Passively Goal Oriented.

People often ask me why I have no goals which are set in stone. I tell them the truth... that I feel no need to have goals. I am looking for happiness in life, and that is all. That's it. Whatever else comes is a by-product which will happen regardless.

Sure, I have things I would like to occur, but I do not set my mind to them. I passively pursue them with as much awareness that they may never occur, as awareness that they will.

Many people have goals they pursue. I am saying that's bad? Not at all! Good on you for having goals set in stone! I just find more pleasure in mulling over the future indifferently and passively then ever saying I'm going to do one certain thing later in life. I live to live, not to search for success, and it is by living to live that I succeed in all of my ventures, and will succeed in all of my ventures to come, regardless of whether I fail or not.

"Our life is like a journey on which, as we advance, the landscape takes a different view from that which it presented at first, and changes again, as we come nearer. This is just what happens--especially with our wishes. We often find something else, nay, something better than what we were looking for; and what we look for, we often find on a very different path from that on which we began a vain search. Instead of finding, as we expected, pleasure, happiness, joy, we get experience, insight, knowledge--a real and permanent blessing, instead of a fleeting and illusory one." -Arthur Schopenhauer.

This quote holds that very truth I have found to be inexpressible when others have been dumbfounded by my lack of conviction to my future. Why does my future need conviction? My present needs conviction. My future will gain that same attention and conviction when it becomes my present, but for now, it is worthless and non-existent. My one and only goal is to live, and live happily. What happens will happen, and what won't, will not. My wishes, my beliefs, my goals, will all come and go over time, and all quite passively and without any fuss or resistance from me. I will do what I want, when I want to do it. That is really all there is too it.

I know that, if I put passion and presence into the present, I will gain passion and presence in my future. I prefer living the process, in which everyday is the first day of the rest of my life.

The Psychological Dogma of the Personal Horoscope

I came to a sudden realization only about an hour ago.

Ever since I discovered horoscopes about 5 or 6 years ago, I've kept an eye on them, just to see what they've had to say, and record how accurate they've been. In many ways, they seemed to have a lot of truth to them. I mean, they are so vague as to cause anyone to relate to them. Try it, if you can. Say you're a Gemini, like me. Switch your horoscope for the day with that of a Libra, or a Scorpio, or an Aquarius. If you can fool yourself into at least partially believing that each one is your personal horoscope, you will find that you can relate to them all in the same capacity as you can relate to your actual star-sign due to their vagueness. You'll also realize that, if you truly believe you're a Scorpio on an Aquarius, you will begin to feel and become as they are explained to be.

I did a bit of an experiment. I read up on a few different star-signs, mine included. I wrote down the days of birth in which each applied, and then went on to my Facebook and began checking the birth-dates of both close friends, as well as acquaintances. For all of my close friends, I could find things in their personal horoscopes that could definitely be related to them, but in general, I found many things to be quite contrary. If there is any truth to horoscopes, I think they can be overridden by self-development and an open-mind, because the only people I found that really lived-up to their horoscopes were the ones who I knew had never really taken the time to diversely transform and take complete control of themselves... and even in those people, I found many things to either be semi-accurate, too vague to really tell, or just straight-up wrong, at least from my outside perspective.

I think some people tend to live-up to their horoscopes due to the simple fact that they read them, and subscribe to them as truth, or at the least, a semi-truth. As such, they find good qualities in themselves that they can be proud of, and bad qualities they have an excuse not to avoid, because they believe them to be totally inevitable in being.

It's like religion. If you truly believe in something, then your personal perspective will change to suit that belief, and in a way, make it seem as if it is true. If you truly believe in your horoscope, it will manifest itself within your personality, and you may come to believe that it is the truth, despite the fact that it is only semi-accurate due to your psychological subscription to it. I found that could happen to me from time to time, and not always in a bad context.

I've always been on the rocks in believing in horoscopes, yet I've always observed them with an open-mind, combined with the benefit of the doubt. This has helped me in both resiting their influence, to some degree, as well as opening my mind to a limited influence from them.

In retrospect, I remember many times when I was having a good day, and then I read my horoscope, which said my day wasn't going to be that fantastic and -shazam!- it transformed into a not-so good day. Ah, the power of the human mind.

The same occurred in the opposite direction as well. I remember days that weren't so good, but then I read my horoscope, which said it was going to be good day, and all of a sudden- it was a good day. Basically, all you have to do is choose what to believe in.

I'm considering distancing myself entirely from horoscopes, as so I'm not psychologically affected by their mysterious and seemingly omnipotent influence, which I know to be a poisonous delusion, but a prominent one none-the-less. Still, they can be fun and/or comforting to look at from time to time, like playing video-games or watching TV.

Just remember, however... none of us are as crazy as all of us, and just because many people may believe the same thing, by no means makes it true. Think for yourself. I think I finally understand the idea that you are not your thoughts, and you're very much less someone else's thoughts.

Pausing to Let the World Catch-Up

While she dodges telling the world how she's feeling, I pretty much put it out there as so it's accessible as common knowledge. While I write heart-felt blog posts on how I'm feeling, trying to get people to understand just how I'm feeling, she counters them with a blog post that avoids her entire personal life, and a second one that talks of 'shoez on the brain.' As disheartening as I found that, as it seemed she was simply countering my sincere and heartfelt posts with something that almost seemed to be mocking my situation, I understood where she was coming from, and actually laughed out loud when I saw her 'shoez' post. Maybe she has a better way of dealing with all of it, who knows? It seems grieving is different for most every person in this world.

When I am deeply upset, I feel a need to vent how I feel via rants, journal entries, and blog posts. All three do accomplish something in the way of just getting it all out there, but beyond that, they cause people to have a deeper understanding for my situation, which eliminates a default and isolated feeling of deep, inner loneliness I find that I feel otherwise.

Sure... posting this all on my blog has pros and cons to it, but so does keeping all of your problems to yourself. I just find it easier to delve into my problems, as so most people close to me know of them in-depth, and that way, I can reflect how I'm feeling off of them and into me, as to gain a better understanding of how I can fix the issue outside of my own emotionally tainted personal perspective. Sure, there are details I leave out... some of them could even be said to be vital to the problem overall... but some things do need to remain private. As such, these parts are between myself and whomever I share the problem with, and no one else.

It's true that I could simply choose one or 2 very close friends to confide in on all of this, but honestly... it's harder to accomplish the whole 'reflection' technique with only 1 other person completely aware of what's going on. Although 2 may be a slightly better figure, it still isn't much better, the reason being that I'm the one that actually lived through all of the things I tell them about, and I find if I tell more then one person, I will disperse my facts and my rants so no single person knows all of the details. In this way, I get different perspectives on how to act, what I could have done, and what to do at this point in time to move forward. Once I've heard many different opinions from the heart, I combine them, process them in my brain, and take from all of them what I think I need or want, and utilize them as such while combining them with my own awareness and opinions on the situation. No technique is flawless, but this technique has got me through many heartbreaks in the past. Why would it be different now?

Anyways, I'm taking a down-time day today, as to let everything that has happened catch up with me, and swallow all the bitter pills I need to in order to move on. Like I said once before:

Life goes on.

1 universe, 8 planets, 204 countries, 809 islands, 7 seas, 6 billion people, and I had the incredible privilege of meeting you.

It's incredible the people you meet throughout your lifetime. Sure, they come and they go... but every time you meet someone who you really come to admire and respect, who fills you with incredible memories you shared with them, in the end, it really doesn't matter how or why they went. Maybe they moved, maybe they changed, maybe they passed away, or maybe you both realized you were just not suited for each other... but anyone who you have incredible memories of and with, you will always love. Whether it's romantic, or family-related, or only a love of deep friendship and/or admiration, you never forget them. In this way, they become ghosts inside of you, and that is how you keep them alive (in a personal context).

Sometimes people go, but they return... just in a different capacity. This is how it's been with all of my ex's, and how it is with anyone who is not direct family. Even with direct family, at times, this can occur, yet it is unusual and highly unlikely. Most family shares the capacity of best friends, but better, and from what I know of best friends, you are able not to see them for days, weeks, months, or years on end... but when you see them again, it's as if nothing has changed, and that mutual love, respect, and deep connection you have with them remains untainted, even if you haven't been able to communicate for a long period of time.

The key to happiness is not to dwell on the unrepeatable memories of the past, but enjoy the fact that they occurred at all, and look to make further unique memories with others around you, or whom you have yet to meet. This early in life, it's hard to know whether anybody who you are romantically involved with will stick around. That doesn't mean you should fear to date, yet that doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful either. Sometimes, you just need to acknowledge the fact that, when it comes to relationships of such depth and value, there's more of a chance that it will end in failure due to the beautifully possessive nature it exerts on the mind, body, and soul. Best friends, in most cases, will stick around in some way, shape, or form, until the very end. That is why I find value in befriending previous lovers and girlfriends, unless I have ample reason not too.

A strange realization I've come too is that I have never truly been in love before until recently. It wasn't until I felt pure and real love that I realized all my previous relationships had been either a superficial love, or on the brink of real love when they blew to pieces. This doesn't mean I am not still attracted to most (if not all) of my ex's... but it does mean I was living under pleasant delusion, and/or wishful thinking.

That's my rant of realization for tonight, however. I hope everyone in the great big universe is having a better day than I am. But my days are about to get better, I can feel it.

Heartache of the Valid Sort.

Life is one tough cookie. Girls are beings very nearly impossible to understand, unless you accept the unacceptable and understand they are primarily ruled by their emotions. That is not to say all girls are like this, but inherently, it is a girls default setting, and as such, has at least the potential to override rational thought or ability at times.
Basically, they don't make sense, and feel they don't need to make sense. To each their own, I guess.
If you haven't guessed already, girl troubles are once again the problem. My ex-girlfriend and I broke up once again. I was the one to break up with her, but it was more of a mutual thing (once again!) due to her agreeing whole-heartedly. At the moment, however, I am not devastated about it. In fact, I'm pretty relieved I've escaped that endless feeling of underlying discontent with it all, and her constant neglecting me. I was beginning to feel that sadness and insecurity manifest itself in anger towards her, and for the first time today, I truly and honestly contemplated breaking up with her. I followed through on my personal philosophy in which I exhausted every possible measure conceivable, and failed. I was left with no choice. Yes, I miss her, and I feel that in my solar plexus every time I think of her, but it's not that desperate and cold sadness I felt in the previous break-up. It had to be done. She wouldn't change the small and insignificant things for the benefit of it all, so honestly, I was cornered.

It's the next day, as I was kicked off of the computer by my mother for the remainder of the night last night, as so she could attend to some personal matters of her own. I guess, in one way, this is advantageous, as I can now chronicle in a single blog post what I'm going through.

All night, I was plagued by memories. They were easier to throw off than the last 2 times, but I was plagued by them nonetheless. My dreams, too, were once again infected with wishful thinking that moved away even from what I wanted. Once again, I dreamed we got back together, because we thought our parting ways was silly and pointless. I didn't wake up crying this time, but I felt a sharp sting in my gut. I was back to sleep within the hour.

I do sincerely believe I did the right thing, and do not regret it in the slightest. But love is a bit trickier than a relationship. Regardless of my validity in ending it, I still do love her, and miss her quite a lot. The underlying stress and insecurity it spawned in me, however, got too much to handle, and my emotional well-being isn't a compromise I'm willing to make, even for love. And I mean, if the other person is going to make no compromises for you, why do they deserve even your attempts? It makes me upset to think of how much I went through, all for her, only to be brushed off so indifferently in the end, as if there was 'no way' to make it work. It may be cruel, but I'm angry with how she pulled my heart-strings so casually, telling me she was going to change things, and that we were going to fix it... but instead, after coming to me, she could not even follow through on the simplest transformations to the relationship. Perhaps she did love me, perhaps she does. All I know is, how she acted, isn't how someone who is in love with another is supposed to act. I don't know. Maybe she's an abstract romantic (or, like her blog suggests, a total 'unromantic'). Either way, I was desperately unhappy, and knew I had to get out, regardless of the further emotional pain it would probably cause me.

All I know is that I give up.

"Emotion Travels."

Environmental effects on emotions is a strange phenomena. It makes complete logical sense, as different colors, lighting, temperatures, weather, and people or lack of people whom surround you are obvious sources of happiness and/or unhappiness, but it doesn't make it any less strange.

All of this comes from a simple and straight-forward observation I made, in which I realized that, at my fathers house, I am generally happier and more secure in myself in mind and spirit than I tend to be at my mothers. This is nothing for or against either of them, and probably has more to do with housing and all the small details of the two environments than anything else, although I'm sure the people play in to it too.

My mothers house is an old and large home that predates the First World War. It's got a generally new paint job, but regardless, there's this feeling of layers to the whole home, as if when you look at one layer of paint, you sense all the others that came before it.

The lighting is not modern at all, and is sporadic and slightly brooding at times, with the brooding atmosphere only being added too by the antique-look perpetuated by the walls, door frames, and furniture designed to fit the whole 'this-is-a-home-of-much-history' vibe of the place. The woefully and perpetually out-of-tune piano originally built sometime in the 19th century is also a strange addition to the overall furnishing.

It's the kind of house that, when you're alone in it for more than the day, you find yourself glancing away from dark corners on your way to bed, as to avoid incurring some frightening image of something you know will still be outside your bedroom door once you've closed it.

My dads place, although not quite a polar opposite, is indeed reverse in many ways to the atmosphere within my moms house. His home, as far as I know, barely even predates New Years 1970. Prior to being inhabited by us, it was owned by an Italian couple, with the husband, Luigi having wired the entire house via extension cords through the walls... which is apparently against the rules in the world of electricians. I can't say I know why, however, but I can easily assume.

Anyways, it has more of a cozy and small feeling to it, as if it's too compact to house any secret threats in dark corners or closed-off rooms. Its lighting, too, is less of a brooding nature, and leaves no corner unilluminated when the rooms main light is switched on.

There are many times when I feel completely at ease with both myself and the world at my moms house. Many times. Actually, I'd have to say the majority of the time I feel pretty content in that house. The same goes for my fathers place. The difference I'm trying to point out here is this: if things aren't going well in my life, I find that being at my moms house, and all those little details I described above, exacerbate the feelings of distress and insecurity. When I'm at my dads house, although those feelings will still be there, those little details coupled with the collective effect of being around people like my dad and step-mom, will ease them to a significant degree. Why exactly, I'm not entirely sure.

I wonder if there's a place on this Earth, in which I could feel blissful and secure in everything, despite everything. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for it on my future travels around the world.

I'M IN LOVE WITH EVERYTHING, EVEN WHEN EVERYTHING ISN'T IN LOVE WITH ME.

Well, it's been a long and complicated past several days.

On Thursday, I could sense things were wrong. On Friday, the same feeling permeated my minds eye. On Saturday, my spidey-senses were proven correct when, finally, my girlfriend and I parted ways. It seems that she really didn't know what she had till it was gone, and as such, we talked it out, took a short break (it was a grueling one, however, as we both missed each other to serious extremes, thinking it was over for good), and then got back together on Monday, despite everything.

I have a very good feeling about the future, now that she's finally resolved not to sever the relationship under duress, and instead, we'll now work together to figure it out any time we feel we need too (all ideas I attempted to implement prior, yet to no avail... it took a big blow to finally get her to see why we needed, and why she wanted them as well).

She stated that very little of what I did prior were the reasons for the break-ups, and although they contributed, they were more convenient excuses than anything. She has a fear, which I have also felt before in the past, of the idea of being with someone forever.

Emotionally growing, I've gotten over that silly fear. It's one that is pointless to even mull over, as the moment is forever, as well as everything... and although planning is essential, plans are worthless. That means, hope and plan for the best, but be ready for the worst; and that's exactly how I'm going to approach my future with her. I hope she, too, approaches it in a similar context, and ceases to perpetuate her pointless (yet natural) fear in the present. Shes definitely proving she loves me by making such an effort to get over such an age-old fear of hers, and all for the sake of her and I. I don't want it to be silly little things like that to pull us apart. If we're ever pulled apart again, I would prefer it to simply be because we may be moving in separate directions in life. I'm not sure of her outlook on such things, but I will look to make it work in any and every way possible for the future. What I mean by separate directions is that we have both exhausted all possibilities, and in the end, after sacrifice, thought, and numerous attempts, we find it impossible. I don't want it to be some little thing, like fearing a future with me... which goes both ways. I don't fear a future with her. I love the present with her. As such, my future with her does not exist until it becomes the present. Therefore, I really have no reason to worry.

You learn from the past to implement in the present, but nothing can be gained from looking to the future. All you can do is plan. And once again, planning may be essential, but plans are worthless. I love her so much, and I've never feared a future with anyone less-so than I fear one with her... which is literally not at all.

On another note, I've gotten sick. Not terribly so... right now, it seems to be a bit of a cold... but the dizziness and the headache it includes make it uncomfortable enough of a prospect to go to school, so I didn't today. I feel like I'm getting better, so hopefully that will keep up, and I'll be well enough to go to school tomorrow and catch up on what I've missed.

I've also been continuing in my creative endeavors as of late, and have finished the first draft of a song I've been working on for about 2 or 3 weeks. I say first draft because I never believe a song of mine is successfully complete until I have had no urge to alter anything about it for 2 months, at a minimum.

Anyways, blue planet, that's all I've really got to say for today. I hope everyone is having a better week then I've been having, and I wish you all a merry... February.

From the Eyes of the Beast: Grendel's Descent into Infamy.

It is suggested that you read the Anglo-Saxon epic "Beowulf" before you read this short story, as this was written as a branch-off assignment for my Literature 12 class, expressing part of the story from the eyes of the epic's antagonist: the creature known as Grendel. It is written from my own unique creative perspective, which one should note before delving into it, and does not reflect the form, nor any truth the original story contains. I hope all that decide to read, will enjoy.

Dark within the underground cavern that Grendel called home, the sounds of celebration, privilege, and camaraderie echoed back-and-fourth along the slimy walls, slipping unintentionally from the great hall of Herot not far above.

In it, the Danes celebrated, blissfully unaware of the beast and his envy, which was slowly transforming into short fits of violent rage. He wanted revenge. It was not fair that they may celebrate above, while Grendel was too hideous a creature to be respected, let alone included, by King Hrothgar’s “great” legion of warriors. It was not within the dark enclaves of his home, but instead inside the dark enclaves of his mind that Grendel finally resolved on revenge. Should he perish in the process, which he knew to be an impossible occurrence considering his immunity to the blades of man, he would be incapable of loss, as he had nothing. No friends, no pleasures, no material joys, and no loved ones, save for his mother, who he felt stuck between loathing and loving. His life was no blessing, and as far as he saw it, these ‘warriors’ above him deserved no blessings either.

He was also hungry. He was hungrier than he had ever been. He lacked a true diet. All he ever feasted upon was the unsatisfactory flesh of wildlife, which was scarce among the seemingly perpetual frost of the winter months. Tonight, he would dine on the warriors of Herot.

When darkness dropped, Grendel went up to the great hall, wondering what the warriors would do in that hall when their drinking was done. He found them sprawled in sleep, suspecting nothing, their dreams undisturbed. Grendel’s thoughts became tainted with rage and starvation. It was then and there in the darkness that he snatched up thirty men, smashed them unknowing in their beds, and ran out with their bodies, neglecting to realize the blood dripping in a trail behind him, while also slipping like tears of burgundy down his hairy back.

Grendel was a professional killer. He had been alive for over 9,000 years, or so he had calculated during his long intervals of solitude. His mother, too, despite his many wishes to the contrary, was also seemingly immortal in being. She had tagged alongside him ever since finding him once again during their more civilized days in the now decrepit Mesopotamia. Grendel had realized, however, that she may very well not be his mother. He had not seen his true mother since childbirth, and even those images were of a blurred, color-coated and partially imaginary origin. Much of his past had become overwhelming in the small details, and as such, many of his previous knowledge’s had been pushed from his mind by what one might title ‘successor’ memories. The original and required memories had been deluded over time, and there were moments when he questioned their very existences. He vaguely remembered being a philosopher at one time living in ancient Greece. During what he perceived as a political purging of philosophical culture, he fled to his mother’s family estate.

From there, he fled northwest towards Gaul and the barbarian states. It was at this point that he ceased to tend to his appearance… especially his abnormal outcroppings of hair. It was strange… he remembered a time when such hair was normal, and not socially questioned.

Hauling the pile of dead men from his shoulder to the floor of his cave, he smiled in self-serving delight. This evil, he realized, had now become his ecstasy… his reason to live.

Long gone were his days of philosophical endeavor, or his soldiering in service of a state that was not his own. Long gone were his one hundred year adventures, his sexual frustrations, and his true appreciation of emotion. Emotion had poisoned him, and degraded him to the state he was now in. He had become sick of living long ago, yet had always feared seeking death. It was why he now turned the tables on fate, and brought death to others for his own twisted enjoyment, and his quest for self-preservation despite it all.

As he chewed on the bones of one his Danish victims, his well-attuned intuition tingled.
He would soon have a shot at well-deserved death. But his mother must not know.

Perhaps he would finally meet his match.

Those Days when you Wake Up Crying.

I am so upset right now.

I know it'll pass, but I am so upset right now. I cry as we speak, and am having a hard time controlling myself. It's not a 'flail scene' weep-fest, but it's certainly a cry from the gut that's worked its way up to my head.

I can't believe how terrible I felt when I woke up with morning. Last night, I had a few strange dreams. One was one of far-fetched and foolish wishful thinking, in which my girlfriend and I realized what a mistake we were making by parting, and as such, we got back together and lived happily ever after.

I woke up, realized it was a dream, felt silly, and began to cry.

Short of losing a loved one to death, I've heard, break-ups are the hardest human condition to deal with. I just miss her in every way, shape, and form. Although one side of me speaks with reason and tells me I really shouldn't miss her, the other side of me remembers all these plans that were made, all the love that was expressed, all the 'I would never break up with you... unless you killed my parents,' And it hurts. A lot. It hurts more to think that she may be getting over it by now, for the most part... or she's not going through it quite as bad as I am. But why would she? She got what she wanted from this... she got her freedom satisfaction, and another part of me is happy for her.

I feel like I have to go in-depth. I know this blog isn't my diary, and I apologize and don't mean to grovel on about all this, but I do want people to read this, and I want them to relate and understand... otherwise I feel lonely in thought and feeling, like no one would ever be able to understand this pain.

I miss the feelings of her lips on mine, my cheek rubbed against her soft cheek, her cute smile when I did something nice for her, like carried her books home, or waited outside the school washroom with her things. I miss holding her in her sleep, and then chuckling at how cute she was when she stretched herself awake. I miss when she used to write me little notes on my iPod, or on a sheet of notebook paper that read: "My girlfriend thinks I'm amazing!" And then, I would find them later, after she left, and smile about how incredibly lucky I was to have a girl like her.

I miss debating with her during walks, talking about life and what was wrong and right about it. I miss her opinions, and her silly little pass-times. I miss thinking about the future with her, and how we naively planned the next 2 years together, only to have that beautiful flame licked out in just under three months. I miss absolutely everything about her, and if I could have one thing in the world right now, it would be her... but my common sense, I hope would override me in that decision and, at the least, give it all time.

I keep trying to tell myself I don't love her, but I do love her. I love her more than I've ever loved any girlfriend I've ever had in the past. Naive? Maybe. Foolish? Definitely.

I just wish it was December again, and her and I were still in the throes of our love. Back when we could never get enough of each other... when we used to go to bookstores and mull over interesting ideas and literature for hours on end, never buying anything while there.... or when we used to go to the library together, fool around like kids, and then finally came out with 2 or 3 books each.

This hurts so much. :(

What Generic Weather for a Terrible Day.

It's not that I couldn't see it coming. I saw it coming from a million miles away.

After everything finally coming to a 'self-perpetuated' boiling point today, in practically every area of my life, I'm not quite sure what to think, feel, or do.

This morning, my girlfriend and I broke up after she stayed the night. The reason we broke up, is because I brought everything that was wrong with the relationship to the surface in an attempt to clear it up. She seems to think it can't be repaired... perhaps she's right, I wouldn't know. All I know is I had the aim of repairing it in mind. It's not so much of a shock this time as 2 weeks ago she broke up with me out of nowhere, but we (temporarily?) figured it out. I could look back and say all we did was place a band-aid on the wound, and maybe that would be true... but she lacked the will to repair anything. She was dead-set on the idea that the entire relationship was hopeless. And who knows? I guess neither of us will really know which one of us was right, if either. It doesn't help that a relative of mine has been diagnosed with a dangerous sickness, but that's something I've been advised not to reveal in detail to the internet, and as such, I won't elaborate. All we can do is hope for the best.

Regarding the break-up, I'm not totally devastated, as might be expected. I'm certainly nowhere near happy, but I'm not devastated. Yes, I miss her a lot. A lot, a lot, a lot... but at the same time, if the relationship really was on such shaky ground, I think this might be best for both of us. At the moment, I'm in that state of mind in which I don't think anyone can really understand how I feel, despite the fact that I'm sure I would be surprised by how many really do understand. I mean, most (if not all) people 17 and up have been through a few break-ups before.

Despite my sadness and feeling of loss, I have a strange sense of calm in the back of my mind, which is a welcome comfort, especially now. Although, one part of my mind keeps wandering, and wondering... where is she right now? Is she ok? I hope she's ok, while another part of my mind is realizing I'm never going to be able to kiss her, or hug her, or hold her, or feel her, or tell her I love her ever again, and I think that is one of the most painful parts of any kind of loss, especially those relating to people. Loss regarding materials is much different, as those materials are technically re-obtainable in the future. With people, even if it is possible to re-obtain them, it's unlikely given the reality of autonomy of thought and feeling as compared to an object someone physically owns.

I'm surprised, this time around, that I'm not fearing returning to school on Monday. It's especially strange considering the circumstances in which I'll be returning. My ex-girlfriend and I have 2 out of 3 of the same classes together, plus a free block at the same time. In both of the real classes we have together, she sits generally close to me. I could always switch it up and sit on another side of the room... but I think for the first day, I'm going to leave it how it is and see how I feel about it. If it's extremely awkward and/or uncomfortable, a change of scenery is more than welcome. Otherwise, I may not bother moving, as I'm generally pretty comfortable where I am in both classes.

Another option is dropping one of the classes I have and replacing it with more of a leisurely class which I was planning on taking in the first place... Digital Media.

It would definitely be welcome, as I have 2 or 3 close friends in the class that takes place that block, but... we'll see. I'm not quite sure how deep I've dug myself in the current class I'm already attending. It also is, despite everything, a generally interesting class (even if the archaeology unit was a bit of a bore).

I know... life goes on. In the back of my mind, that has become the default answer to all of my hardships... Life goes on. Her and I will be friends again eventually... but for now, I think it's probably healthy for the both of us to completely distance ourselves from each other for about a month. After that comes the month of awkward friendship, and then after that, the friendship will either revert to what it was prior to the relationship, or it'll level out at a 'good friends' level... both of which I'm alright with. I'm friends with all of my ex's, and hold no grudges against any of them... just memories; none of which cause me to miss the relationship I had with them. I simply smile because it happened.

It'll be a little bit before I'm completely over this most recent break-up, but in the end, I will smile because it happened, and it'll be a smile that stretches from ear to ear.

Life goes on.

Time Isn't Wasted, When you're Getting Wasted.

There was a time when time was expendable,

When all broken hearts were found snapped and unmendable,

Whilst others found solace alone, and in pain;

Escaping a world which they thought was insane.

There was a time when our minds were unbendable,

And we all had one person we found so dependable,

Yet now we have many we find undependable,

But offensives from them, we find indefensible.

There was a time when time was a luxury;

When to sit down and waste time was found to be blasphemy,

To the very value excreted by life;

We would let time bleed out, as if dug deep by a knife.

"Time isn't wasted, when you're getting wasted!"

An ignorant mass enjoy this when it's pasted,

On posters in bars and at parties and raves;

I think I would rather revert to the caves.

Like turkey's, we're basted,

In adverts and anger; Entertainment Tonight;

Time isn't wasted, when it's death that you have tasted,

Perhaps you must wait till you die to be bright,

Perhaps on your last day on Earth, you'll see light.

The Value of History in Relation to the Now

The value of history, both within the scope of humankind, as well as the history of existence that swallows up the fraction of the ‘Great All’ that us, as humans, have managed to occupy, is swallowed in the ocean of what is the overarching story of both space and time.

In the modern world of mankind, human history plays a vital role. Without recently passed lessons such as World War I and II, we would still be stuck in the arrogant mindset that allowed certain civilizations to horde the world into individual breadbaskets, while others gathered smaller breadbaskets, and still others looked on in envy as they demanded a share of imperial loot. With time, and slow, painfully gained progress, we have begun to learn the true value of human life for what it is… but even more recent lessons, such as the war in Iraq, and the present conflict in Afghanistan, suggest that humanity, as a whole, still has a long way to go before any final lesson relating to world peace between all living things is finally reached, let alone successfully learned.

Human history is but a spec in the overwhelming reality of the ‘Great All,’ and as such, it is even more important that we preserve it while we can. The future of humanity remains as uncertain as it has always been, and, despite the prospect of man reaching the stars to expand into eternity, it would seem that said possibility is not only a long way from being achieved, but on shaky ground as to its coming to fruition in the first place.

For all we know, humanity will be wiped off the face of the Earth before it reaches the stars, and, as such, will be wiped out of an indifferent existence that took no time, nor made any effort to record the small and insignificant role we played in the universe. For this very reason, it is vital that we continue to remember, as well as continue to learn, despite of, and because of the futility in doing so.

Life, it would seem, is simply one big time-lapse; both the individual’s life, as well as the collectives. All the labels, eras, years, and other sorts of arbitrary boundaries were not established to record past occurrences in our memories until we were able to look back in retrospect, and place them where we felt was necessary. In this way, it is similar to the fantasy of a ‘nation-state,’ in which we, as humans, have drawn imaginary boundaries as to differentiate between locations, and the kinds of people each location contains. The same goes for history.

Someone, somewhere, at some time, drew an imaginary line differentiating us from the age of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, or the Ancient Egyptians, or the defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo; and the further away we move from such past ages, the more concrete those imaginary lines become, just like the fantasy of a nation-state in the mind of a patriot.

Some see history from a single-minded perspective; that it exists only to teach us the lessons of our ancestors, as so we don’t end up repeating the same foolish mistakes, whether they were born of ignorance, arrogance, or just plain stupidity. In many cases, it was all three, and then some. But seeing it from such a perspective is not only self-mitigating, it is ignorant, as well as arrogant, and as such, it is not learning from our ancestors past mistakes so much as it is repeating them on more of a microcosmic scale. Some may argue that, as long as such a microcosmic scale exists only in the certain individual, then it is of no harm to the rest of us… yet they fail to realize that a collection of individuals born of ignorance and arrogance on such things so important to us as history, may well be on there way to becoming an ignorant and arrogant collective, and, as we all know from history’s past mistakes, an ignorant and arrogant collective exerts an influence over the rest of us whether it means to or not.

It is for this reason that history must be studied and approached from many different mind-sets at once. There is no such thing as a definite and untainted knowledge of anything, especially those relating to the past, which, by the fundamental laws of the universe, cannot exist in the present, nor be perfectly replicated to the point that a fact is undebatable, as all knowledge is born of observation, as well as individual perspective and opinion. There is no such thing as an omnipotent observer; only our attempt at creating such an observer, which is the collective memory of mankind that we have conveniently decided to call “History.”

History is our most valuable asset, especially now that we enter a completely unique and rapidly changing future in which anything and everything seems to be possible. Perhaps, one day, we will find a way to make our race immortal; if not in physical being, then in a collective, universal memory.

Perhaps, one day, the idea of ‘his’ story will alter to become Humanstory as we progress to the stars and beyond; to levels of consciousness never thought possible.

To true immortality.

A Self-Initiated Exile from the Empty Void of Modern Communication

With the suggestion of a friend of mine, I've decided to temporarily close my Facebook account, as well as temporarily discontinue my texting feature.

For 2 weeks, at a minimum, we will deliberately cut ourselves off from both the modern forms of communication. Why? For many reasons.

The main reason, announced via a note on my Facebook profile, reads as follows:

"I've come to realize, technology rules my life. I sit on Facebook for hours on end, having distant conversations with distant people. No real emotion, no real interaction, all simply a mask. I have degraded myself with Facebook, and my cellphone, and constant contact to the "real(?)" world. I think it's time I severe my dependence on it."

There is always a state of craving and longing, which will reveal itself sporadically throughout the 2 weeks of self-imposed virtual exile, when one denies themselves of something they used to rely on to such an incredibly addicting extent. I already feel both a mix of coming distress, as well as coming relief at the idea that, within about an hour and 45 minutes, I will no longer be active on Facebook, nor texting.

The thing to do is to persevere through those moments of longing and discomfort, and, in doing so, forcing yourself through a restrictive wall that once held you back from something you've been longing for all your life. In this case, it's something I'm not entirely sure of, that I have been longing for since the onset of my teenage years. This will be a journey in which I will disconnect in order to reconnect.

This does not mean I will be abandoning all technology; not by any means. I will still use a computer, and, who knows? I may be on it just as much, if not more often than prior to closing my Facebook account. The thing is, I will be using it for more constructive things, like more blog posts, for example... documenting to the world my couple of weeks of both self-denial, as well as increased personal freedom from the cage that I myself placed my mind in.

If I find I prefer my life without Facebook or texting, I may decide to keep it that way. Most likely, however, I will have ripped myself free of Facebook's escapist void, and will return after 2 weeks to re-instate myself as a casual user.

I believe my freedom from Facebook will increase my sociability in the real world, and will make me appreciate my time with real people all the more, especially those who are close to me, and who I feel I distribute too thinly my concentrations of interaction with them. This will cause me to truly appreciate who I have in my life, as well as what I have, and what I have neglected to do in the real world, both alone, and with others.

Between now and 7 PM PST, I will be deliberately running my minutes on my phone down to $0.00, and at 7 PM PST sharp, I will be closing my Facebook account until sometime on February 20th, 2011, earliest.

I'm on a mission to fall in love with life once again.