Wednesday, June 30, 2010


Scientists say that if your mind believes something strongly enough, that your body begins to believe that that is actually happening. If you were to believe so strongly that your arm was on fire, then your mind would tell your body, and your body could actually feel pain in your arm and your arm could go red as if it were burning. When we doubt ourselves and say, "Oh no I'm going to drop this plate" then we are more likely to drop the plate than if we were to think that we weren't. Coaches tell their players, "Imagine yourself making the touchdown" or "Making the basket", so that the players make the shot because they believe in themselves so strongly. However, why can we not put this kind of belief into ourselves and into our everyday thinking's? Why do we not believe in ourselves so strongly that we can make anything happen? I once was told that I can do anything i want to, anything at all if I tried hard enough. I believed this for the longest time, however, up until recently, that saying has begun to fade. I don't believe as strongly in myself, I don't believe as strongly in what I do. But I have no reason not to. As we get older and we face new challenges such as, "What college" and "What am I going to do with my life?" we begin to doubt ourselves and our capabilities so much, that we fear our future and we fear our lives beyond the exact moment that we are living in. We want things to just work out, and we want things to go as if everything is going to be OK because that is what we have been taught, but when faced with our own choices and our own fears about the future that no one but ourselves can sort out, we loose that confidence and that belief. But why can we not believe in ourselves and in our own burning passion for the future and its mysteries, as our mind would do about a fictional burn? Why can we not believe in our talents, as strongly as others believe in us?

Monday, June 21, 2010


Look through the window to see the sky.
Blinding lights, blinding eyes, blinding mind.
I reach out. Air swifts through my fingers with nothing at the end.
Heart pounds. Speeds. Races. Leaps from my chest.
Heartless, Cold, Unfeeling.
Smoke fills the room and stings my eyes.
Hazy, blurry, blinding.
Up and down, up and down, up and down.
The movement numbs my breaths.
Congested behind my eyes. Pressure building but no release.
Shot one.
Heart races.
Shot two.
World is silent in anticipation.
Shot three.
Words build in my chest and flow from my lips.
Feathers in my stomach tingle around.
Drums in my chest leave me restless.
Cars speed through my mind with raceways never ending.
Peace is imminent.
Imminence is dead.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

goldfish, the simple creature.

What if we lived our lives like a pet fish? Cornered in glass all day, with the same 4 walls. Hitting the glass when we forget where we are and weaving through the same plastic plants and the little pirate chest of gold. I wonder what they think when they look at us. Their big eyes bulging from their heads as they swim around and scrutinize us. Go up for air, go back down. Small air bubbles escape their mouths and the blup blup sound pops against the surface. Do you think they know what they look like? That they know their body parts, they know that that flowy thing that catches their eye when they turn around and then disappear is actually their tail? I like to wonder how the rest of the world sees us, rich beyond compare. We have so much, give so little, it’s quite incredible that people as a species hasn’t killed off its own population out of greed. Oh wait! We do do that.
People in countries that have so little, actually have so much. They have the knowledge to appreciate every little thing, to appreciate family and clothing, to appreciate schooling and fresh water. We curse school, we drink soft drinks instead, we hate our parents and we always want more clothes or material things. If you put us, in our own little four walled glass box, and told us to look out on the world and not participate but just observe. What would we see?

Power of power

“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace” – Jimi Hendrix. Today in society we are power driven, financially driven and more or less focused on what’s in our bank account than the words coming out of our mouths. We draw our conversations from the news, the stock market and the economy. Without these things our communication skills are limited and short, leaving us to “how was your day?” and “What’d you have for lunch?”. People are becoming less dependent on social skills and more dependent on money and social standing. People are monopolizing themselves. They are making themselves the most important thing above everything else, and that they almost charge us for talking to them or being friends with them. The infinite quote “time is money” has become the international symbol for socialization. Creativity and imagination is an abomination in the real world. You can’t really make a living off of that unless you are incredibly talented and even still mostly in cinematography such as James Cameron or Quentin Tarrantino. Being oneself is a downgrade from what we could be. Ourselves is no longer good enough for society or for today’s expectations. Just look at the job market. People who may not have experience in a certain field will not get a job because they are not good enough. Their personality and approachability doesn’t matter anymore. It’s how good you look on paper. We love money, we love social hierarchy and above all we love power. We love the things that cost us. Cost us happiness, creativity, originality we love the things that take away from who we are and what we think we should be. We are forced to cocoon ourselves until we are what society has made us; Money making, power driven machines that strive to be the best without considering their happiness or the happiness of others. Since when does happiness have a price tag in the form of a new TV or the latest cell phone? Since when has personal entertainment and creativity not been enough? Since when has being ourselves, not been enough?