150,000 Prayers

Agnostic or atheist, Christian or Muslim or Hindu or Buddhist, Deist or Daoist, let us take a moment to pray for those who suffered in the tsunamis in the Indian Ocean.
To those who have lost their families, their homes, their loved ones, or their lives, you are in my heart tonight as we go forth into a new year. I can only hope that the toll does not rise any more than it has, and I will observe a moment of silence at midnight instead of noise in rememberance of the victims.
My heart is with Asia tonight. Let the new year bring relief, hope, and a new beginning.

Mad World

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'Cos I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World

-Mad World, Tears for Fears

IF I WERE. . . SURVEY


If I were a month I would be: November


If I were a day of the week I would be: Saturday


If I were a time of day I would be: 2 am, when there's no moon and no sun and it's truly the middle of the night.


If I were a planet I would be: Neptune- unknown and benign


If I were a sea animal I would be: a sergeant crab


If I were a direction I would be: Northeast


If I were a piece of furniture I would be: The chair that doesn't match any other furniture


If I were a historical figure I would be: Alexander the great


If I were a liquid I would be: mercury


If I were a stone, I would be: quartz.


If I were a bird, I would be: a raven


If I were a tool, I would be: callopers


If I were a flower/plant, I would be: a fern


If I were a kind of weather, I would be: A steady, calm rain


If I were a musical instrument, I would be: a wood flute


If I were an animal, I would be: an elk


If I were a color, I would be: dark silver


If I were an emotion, I would be: contemplative


If I were a vegetable, I would be: potato


If I were a sound, I would be: piano


If I were a car, I would be: a prius


If I were a song, I would be: noah's dove


If I were a poem, I would be written by: ee cummings


If I were a food, I would be: pasta


If I were a place, I would be: ireland


If I were a material, I would be: jean- looks ok and feels ok


If I were a taste, I would be: sweet and sour


If I were a scent, I would be: dirt after being rained on


If I were a religion, I would be: Daoism


If I were a word, I would be: Different


If I were an object, I would be: A strange instrument that nobody knows how to work, like a sextant or a slide rule


If I were a body part I would be: the liver


If I were a facial expression I would be: doubting


If I were a subject in school I would be: English


If I were a cartoon character I would be: wile e coyote


If I were a shape I would be a: a pentagram


If I were a number I would be: 6

Chrysanthemums

I know how to spell chrysanthemums from a spelling bee in 4th grade. I came up with a phonic for it. Chris, and the mum. And now, 8 years later, I can still spell it. I guess that's pretty special.
I'm finally done with the DVD project. I feel drained. I wonder how many people read this I don't know about. I want to write a story. Yes. I think I'll write a story.
My name is Artùr Peterksen, and I'm compiling a vox of what took place in the county of Maris on Winter Solstice, Year 616. I believe it could be helpful to future audiences if I gave a bit of a background to this story. [clears throat. sound of water being drunk] Ok, so...
Once upon a time, there was an oak forest known as Almaden. Digression: I like oaks, because they are strong and they seem to survive, somehow. For example, there's an oak forest in the county outside mine by Gaviota. A fire raged through it, and all the oaks burned. But they were still there, sort of, just charred silhouettes in a hellish, blackened landscape. And still, they were there. The fire had not destroyed them. Well, it had killed them, but they still stood, and I think that's really important. Back to Almaden. This oak forest had been alive for many many centuries, and the trees were very old and strong. It's a strange thing about trees, especially in Almaden. The longer they lived, the stronger they became, and so this forest was built of the strongest oaks about. The local tribe of Eurasians harvested some of the outlying trees for building their ships and houses, and the wood became known to the other peoples as ironwood, because it was as metal compared to other woods. But the Eurasians never ventured inside the forest, for they knew the stories of another world past Almaden's borders. At night, the old ladies whispered, when the moon was shining and the Aurora Occidentis lit the sky, the oaks would glow with unearthly light, and if you looked carefully enough, you could see the faces of another people behind the trees. The faces, they say, were long and thin, with large pale eyes and slender noses. The eyes were the same color as the moon, a soft silvery white, and they had no pupils. But what was most frightening about these faces was the absence of a mouth. And yet, the old ladies say, the faces could talk. They whispered secrets to those who listened, to those who watched them during the Occidentis and the full moon. And their secrets, it was said, could change the world.

There's a town called Almaden there now, but there's no forest. It is only lengths of tract housing, filled with suburban burbanites, and a small city center. In a tribute to the oaken forest, there is a huge oak in the middle of the town where children play. I've researched the legends of the Almaden forest, and it is my belief that none of what I previously told you was true, apart from the existence of a forest. For there was never any Western Aurora, and the idea that there would be another people in the trees is simply folly and not backed up by any anthropological studies whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I think we should preserve the heritage of Almaden and the culture who used to live here, but the ideas of some people are simply rediculous. They would want us to replant Almaden, over all our suburbs and our city. Some of the radicals in the city believe that this is how we could get back in touch with the "spirits" of the forest. A load of tripe, if you ask me. But that's not what that story is about. Not in the least. Well, maybe it is, partly. [clears throat]

The county of Maris lies on a geographic hotspot, a very thin spot on the Earth's crust. Unlike other hotspots, though, Maris does not feature any geysers, volcanos, or any other sort of volcanic activity. There was a hot spring system a long time ago, but that was paved over when the town of Crysdale was founded. Crysdale's not there anymore, but if I explained that it would be another digression, and I'm running out of light in the voxcorder. So back to my story. Winter's Solstice is a large festival in Maris, celebrating the end of the year and the gradual progression of the lengthening of days. It is also the longest night in the year, which may explain some of the events of the Solstice of 616.
I was at a party with my family and we were watching the sun go down, for it is traditional to wave the sun goodbye when it leaves on its longest trip of the year. The curious events started when the sun hit the horizon, for at that moment the sky faded far too fast to be realistic. The sun quickened its pace and within mere seconds of touching the horizon it had sunk completely. There was no afterglow or anything, and we were left in complete darkness. All the light in our appliances had gone out, as well, so my family and I sat in a sort of terrified silence. [pause]
And then the night lit up. It was as if somebody had flicked a switch, and in moments the sky was filled with the eerie blue light of the moon. Everything stood out in sharp, alien relief as the blue light danced across the sky. Shortly after the moon lit up, there was a sort of rushing noise and an Aurora flooded into view. I guess it was an Aurora, because the signature curtain of lights was unique to those sort of solar storms. Bathed in the dual light of the moon and the Western Aurora, everything looked strange. Shadows were cast where there was nothing, and trees began to look much larger and us much smaller.
The light grew more intense, building to the point of where it was painful to look at either the moon or the Aurora. There was a screaming noise, like a thousand voices screaming, and my daughter was sobbing with her hands over her ears and my wife had fainted. I was panicking, and the light and the voices were reaching a crescendo, and then everything faded to white.

This all seems incredible, I know, and sometimes I wonder if I'm not half mad. But I know this ground and I've walked this land, and I know for a fact that this is Maris county. But the strangest thing... the houses are gone, completely vanished, and all one can see from horizon to horizon is oak. But then I'll find some trinket, like this voxcorder, or a doll, or some remnant of my world, and I'll wonder to myself just where I am. This was all long ago now. I simply haven't gotten around to voxing it. There was something else I wanted to say. Oh, yes. Some days when the sun shines really brightly in the cloudless sky, I see people through the branches of the trees. They're not aware of me, except for an old lady who sits and watches me. It's night in their world, and I can see the Aurora blazing overhead. I wave to her and she waves back, and I tell her of my world. I never think she could hear me, but you never know. And then the sun will sink a bit and the old lady and the people fade like a mirage in the heat, and it's times like that when I wouldn't doubt if I had gone completely off my rocker.

Damn. The vox is nearly out of light. Five... four... three... two... [there is a burst of white noise and the playback ends.]

Hahahahaaaaaaaaa

Wow. It's been a long time since I was this happy. I don't know why I haven't been this happy before, but man... I was seriously missing out on life.

And you know what?

Neither do I.

But it's a strange thing, I don't have much to say when I'm happy. I'm much more eloquent when I'm sad or depressed, which does not bode well for any plans I had for writing as a career.

a poem about nothing at all

I don't feel anything today
no punctuation or exclamation
no dangling participles nor anguished outbursts
the heart is dead, the secret gone
and I wished I cared a little more
because it seems a shame
a crying shame that something so me
could be lost in the rain
classic rain, sadness and beauty
impotent and sad somedays
but today its nothing. nothing
at
all
and i was almost tempted to use a period there but i didn't
and this could be considered a stream of conciousness but it isn't
and tomorrow could be happy but it won't
and maybe now
in the between-times
with the starless night and silent rooms
maybe now i could not feel something
i don't i mean
i don't feel anything
i mean i think
that i feel empty inside
i don't really feel anything and i think that's bad
for christ sake it's 3 in the morning and i'm
i'm writing about how i don't feel
something anything nothing at all

nope
i don't feel anything today

Laurels and bay leaves

I would like to point out, for those unaware, that Windows 98 is quite possibly the most revolting and utterly shitty program I have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. It truly should not be as hard as it is to burn a DVD, but no, I am put through hell itself to get this shit to work. I truly am amazed at the sheer difficulty of completing such a simple task. Never before have I been so frustrated as I was working on this movie.

Enough about that. I'm leaving for Grandma and Grandpa's tomorrow, up in the Bay Area. Their house is like a second home to me, I love it. I spent every summer there when I was younger, but I don't make it up there often enough anymore. So I'm looking forward to that.

For Christmas I got a massive collection of high-quality colored pencils, a Pink Floyd album, two sweaters, watercolors, a cue stick, calligraphy pens, and other miscellanea that slip my mind. I would really like to use them, but at the moment I'm so wrapped up in this incredible shitfest of DVD creation that I have not had time to enjoy the spoils of the holiday.

And the DVD didn't burn again, erroring twice. That's 2 DVD-Rs I've lost now, and I'm out of time. I hope the Computer Gods come down and smite the PC when I'm on vacation.

I feel... drained. Emotionally empty. Like, I'm angry at the DVD burner, but there's nothing deeper. Even that familiar heartache is gone. It's sort of interesting in a good and bad way. I was tired of me being so depressed recently, but at the same time it's weird to not feel anything at all. I don't feel... real. Kinda.

Damn DVD burners. Screw with your emotional states.

How dumb must a group of people be that would buy the excuse "Oh, no, I can't sing, my voice is sub-audible when I try"? I mean... that takes some level of stupidity.

and I'd like to point out that iMovie is the most frustrating program I've ever used on a Mac, with the exception of MS Office. It's slow, it's limited, and it's just... grrrrrr.

I want to move to Ireland.

Thought Police

I though I'd write this down, this dream I had this morning. It was a strange dream...

I had a glimse of something horrible happening. It involved a kid named Louis, Clint Eastwood, and the Thought Police. No, wait, just listen. So I have this memory of this thing that's going to happen, and I'm in my car.
I see Louis and a girl on the side of the road. I stop to pick them up, I'm not sure why. They say to me: "So, whatcha doing, Erik?"
I reply, "I'm just driving."
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere, I'm just driving."
"You're weird."
I see in front of me a large collection of blue-helmeted police surrounding these cars. And I think... "Oh christ, it's happening." I pull over and jump out of the car. I'm running down the sidewalk, as fast as I can, when I run into my friend Matt. He grabs me by the sweater and says "Erik, where are you going? Clint Eastwood's over there. Let's go see him!"
I try to keep running but he has a firm grip on my sweater, so slide out of it and keep running. I hear him calling to me
"You're weird."
I remember running across the intersection, trying to get a car to hit me. They're going to slowly though because they're just pulling out of the stoplight, so they can avoid me. But I remember thinking that it was of the utmost importance to die there, now, before the police could get me. It was a radical, paranoical fear. I finally ran and jumped off the highway overpass, into the cars rushing below. I woke up before I hit, as usual.

As a totally unrelated tangent (or maybe related in some sort of way), I was in Costco today. As usual, I gravitated towards the computer section. I was fiddling around with one of the shitty PC laptops when I noticed the screensaver programmed into the largest computer there. It was the scrolling marquee one, where you can choose the text. well, somebody had decided to write
"fags and lesbians go home"
so that it was scrolling in bright red text over and over and over like some sort of... I don't know. But i'll tell you one thing. I'm tired of this shit. I know why I'm here now, I think. I'm here to fight these sort of people. People who judge before they know, act before they think, speak before they understand. It's these sort of people who make this world a worse place to live in.

Next tangent: tonight is Winter Solstice. I'm going to go outside at midnight and watch the sky, because tonight is the night when the sun will be furthest from us. I think that's important in some way. I think I'm going to watch the sunrise as well.

Namasde.

Evaporation

Listen as the wind blows, from across the great divide
Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time
The night is my companion, solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here, and not be satisfied?

Every day is shot through with mocking hope towards an impossible goal. Each morning Dawn draws a blank canvas, but each day is the same, only written on by the same hand in slightly different manners. It doesn't matter what happens by now until it happens, and I know it won't.

Into this night I wander- it's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread
Into the sea of waking dreams I fall without pride
Because nothing stands between us here
and I won't be denied...

I can't stand knowing what I could have. I don't want to see what I don't have. It's not like I'm in physical danger, but emotionally it's tearing me apart. I can't see the world anymore for what it is, only what I want it to become. Nothing is ever perfect, not even for a moment. I don't understand this anymore, I don't understand this life. Every time I seem to find something, I lose it. I've lost it so many times now I can't look at anything with a clear eye. I'm lost in the stupidity of hope, of actually thinking maybe I could love. I try. I feel like I don't get a chance though. I feel as if I'm losing something I desperately need, yet something I never had.

It is raining outside, a black rain in a midnight blue sky. Water ripples quietly on the shore of the lake, and trees rustle in the the cool wind. I'm on my knees staring up into the sky, into the rain and the blackness. I'm asking a thousand questions and every raindrop is an answer. I'm praying and every gust of wind is a mocking response. Heaven's inverted and hell walks the earth. Dark clouds part to reveal an thick black starless sky. The answers stop falling. All hope fades, every last demented strand of it. The lake dries up and vanishes. The trees wilt, fall, and decompose. Sandy tendrils reach from the lake bed and wrap themselves around me, holding me, drying me out. My soul is drawn from me like poison from a wound, and it too evaporates. The fingers of sand reach around me, caressing me, and finally, achingly, I crumble into dust.

random spitup on the net

"Heaven is the chain that binds us upon this earth..."
I believe that the links we forge on earth leave scars
healing only in the wastes of eternity.
I think maybe the empty phrases I write are simply
echos of lost innocence or
cliches wrapped up in carapaces
with hollow dreams of broken hearts
and a memory of what might have been.

And just once I think it would be nice to set the oceans on fire
with the power of my emotions
and watch the air ignite while people burn
in holy confusion.

It's not like it's emptiness, after all
it's only the realization of helplessness
and the hungry feeling of knowing you're alone when the world looks on
in smug oblivion.

Shock the world, rock the earth, dance to the stars
when nothing was nothing, was ever real.
Why live when your dreams are others' reality
when others burn your soul
and your reality is the stuff of nightmares?

Two Thousand and Four

So. The year's almost over, and what do we have to show for it? Nothing good, that's certain. Let's list some of the darklights of this year:
1. Bungled and costly war in Iraq, including but not limited to a bloody insurgency, the Abu Ghraib fiasco, and the invasion of Fallujah.
2. The verification of and support of President Bush's extremist agenda by the American people, stating in effect that as a nation we approve of the war, the diplomatic crap, the fundamentalist social policies, and the destructive environmental campaigns which are such a hallmark of this bullshit administration.
3. The Madrid train bombings, which killed an estimated 200 people.
4. The Beslan school massacre, which... I don't even know what to say about that. Children... how could they do that? How on earth did they think that would help their cause? I simply don't know what to say.
5. Vladimir Putin's tightening of his grip over Russia and the neighboring post-soviet satellites using unconstitutional and controversial methods.
6. The whole gay marraige fiasco, from the nullification of the licenses granted by San Francisco to the 11 state constitutional amendments banning it, including one in Virginia that prevents not only marraige, civil unions, and the like, but also makes it illegal for any company or organization to give benefits to homosexual domestic partners.
7. The crazy heating patterns that conclusively prove that global warming is not only true, but it is happening faster than we thought.
8. The numerous hurricanes that ripped through Florida. I think we got to the J's with those ones. You know something's wrong when there's over 10 hurricanes in a short period...
9. The proposed re-instatement of the draft and the tightening of the borders with Canada, thereby preventing any form of draft dodging of a war that is unconstitutional, unjust, unfair and simply wrong.

So yeah. What a year. But I'm focusing to much on the large picture. Let's look closer into my own personal lifestones:
1. I went to Mammoth Running Camp, and kicked ass. Then got injured and spent half the season nursing my foot.
2. Reaching a personal record of 19:30 for a five mile course in cross-country.
3. Getting my laptop!
4. Buying an iPod mini (silver)
5. The weird and eerie relationship with a certain somebody I shall not name.
6. Finding my soul sibling.
7. Buying a pair of jeans for the first time ever.
9. The May Revelation and the August Revolution.
10. The discovery of the wonderful world of the Sarah McLachlan's music.
11. Meeting lots of cool new people and coming out of my weird, self-obsessed shell.

There's probably other stuff, but I've forgotten it.

Cadillac Dreams

Staring out of his window as the world rushes by,
Arthur Robinson closes the glass and replies
"I dream of ballerinas and I don't know why,
but I see Cadillacs sailing.

I was born on the shores of Chesapeak Bay, but
Maryland and Virginia have faded away
And I keep thinking tomorrow is coming today
so I am endlessly waiting..."
-Counting Crows

I've decided that I don't belong here. Its a sort of weird feeling, like being in a stranger's home. Everything seems... I don't know, false. School, home, life... it all seems like a staged production. I like to think that each day will be different, but truthfully I can pretty much guess with accuracy what's going to happen. It seems to me that life is a play- a really badly acted play, stiffly played by unwilling actors.

I keep seeing myself running out of my house to the misty forest outside my door (there isn't one), running into the forest, never to be seen again by mortal man. I don't see anything after the forest, I just see myself being absorbed into the mist and being happy.

This world is such a load of crap. Everybody is just acting a part they think they have to play, when they don't realize all that matters is simply noticing the creaks of a piano bench during your favorite song. And in the end of our life, when we look back, we'll remember all the stupid things we did, all the failures and the shortcomings and the crimes. It seems like we'd be better off by simply acting true to ourselves so we'd have less to regret at the end. And somehow we never do that.

I write this and yet I'm basically living a lie to all but a few people. Way to stay true to yourself, Erik.

Fucking hypocrite.

If you've never stared off into the distance, then your life is a shame...

Food for thought...

Here's another survey by yours truly. Feel free to take it, or not.

0. What name would you choose for yourself if it was anything besides the one you have now?

What would you want to be the last:
1. Song you ever heard?

2. Food you ever ate?

3. Words you ever said?

4. Thing you ever saw?

5. Person you talked to?

Now that you've covered the ending, tell me about your beginning.

1. Where were you born?

2. What is the first thing you remember about yourself?

3. Is your family predominantly happy, stressed, or completely dysfunctional?

4. What was your favorite food when you were little?

5. Would you say you had a happy childhood?

Random crap:

1. Is it just me, or is Christmas a very melancholy holiday?

2. What would you want for Christmas, if you could have anything in the world?

3. Would you rather be ruler of the world or be the richest person in the world for the rest of your life?

4. If you were the ruler of the world (or at least a very large country) how would you govern? Generally.

5. What would you want to do for all eternity?

6. What instrument can you/ do you wish you could play?

7. If there were 3 things you could tell the world and have them listen, what would they be?

So yeah... there's the survey. It's short, but I like to think the answers are a little more though-provoking than most. Thanks for reading or taking it :)

Christmas time, and the children are singing...

New favorite smell: the smell of my house when a fire is burning and the christmas tree is put up. I could spend the rest of my life in front of a fire, watching the christmas tree sparkle and everything is happy and toasty and nobody's arguing for the moment. It's times like those when nothing really matters besides the present, when the whole world is contained in that little room with the fire and ornaments and tree and warm orange light.

I also obtained lots of money so I can buy people presents for the first time in like forever. Yay! What do you want for Christmas, people? Except for those of you who live beyond like 25 miles of me... would be hard to send presents to you... I could send you a postcard or something.

R.E.M is a good band.

There is no spoon or knife or fork or, for that matter, any other dishware.

I hate doing the dishes. I'm so slow at them because I get bored and stare off into the night and wash the same pan over and over and over again. One thing that my parents cannot complain about is that the dishes are not clean enough.

I had a brilliant idea for organizing my music library. Compared to other people, I have very few songs (424) but I like mostly all of them. So anyway, I was having trouble making good playlists so I decided to organize it through colors. I don't know if anybody else sees colors when they're listening to music, but I do. For example, Tool and 3 Doors Down are black, while Counting Crows and Jeff Black are brown, and Sarah McLachlan is blue. I have a whole spectrum of colors and it works brilliantly. And the recently imported smart playlist is called "vibrant" while the infrequently played song playlist is called "faded". I'm so proud of myself.

Tool is such an excellent band. Fits my mood perfectly.

I also got a haircut. I don't like it at all. It's too short. Blah.

I also posted a picture thing. That is me in the background, highly posterized. And if you haven't read 1984 (which you should, immediately) that quote is from the government. Thought it was appropriate.

Happy Thursday, everybody.

I'm sorry I'm diluting the already low quality of my blog...

... but I felt like doing one of these lame surveys. So here goes.

THE BASICS...
01. name: Erik Liden Clarke
02. d.o.b.: 06/16/1988
03. location: santa barbara, ca
04. religion: Daoism
05. occupation: Student/writer/poet/graphic artist/loser

APPEARANCE...
01. hair: dark blonde
02. eyes: hazel
03. weight: ~135-140
04. height: 6'

STYLE...
01. clothing: something comfy that is handy and satisfies the requirements of covering my ass
02. music: anything besides rap and most country
03. make-up: lol no
04. body art: i draw on myself all the time, if that counts...

RIGHT NOW...
01. wearing: shorts, t-shirt, socks
02. listening to: Hold On by Sarah McLachlan
03. thinking of: what I should do regarding the fact that I haven't done any of my homework and there's a test tomorrow...

LAST THING YOU...
01. bought: mountain dew
02. ate & drank: ice cream & water
03. read: 1984 (for the 5th time now)
04. saw in theatres: Ummm... the Incredibles, i think

EITHER / OR...
01. club or houseparty: no idea
02. tea or coffee: Tea with extreme amounts of sugar
03. achiever or slacker: slacker who wants to be an acheiver
04. beer or cider: cider
05. drinks or shots: i dislike alcohol in general. can't stand how it tastes.
06. cats or dogs: cats remind me too much of humans, so dogs.
07. single or taken: single :(
08. pen or pencil: Pen (dr. grip all the way, baby)
09. gloves or mittens: gloves
10. food or candy: sweet food
11. cassette or cd: cd
12. coke or pepsi: pepsi (sweeter)
13. hard or mild alcohol: none
14. matches or a lighter: blowtorch

WHO DO YOU WANT TO...
01. kill: but i don't want to kill anybody, I'm a pacifist. on the other hand, those assholes that murdered margaret hassan... i wouldn't mind seeing them die in a painful manner.
02. hear from: my predestined lover who would then profess undying love for me
03. get really wasted with: i prefer to retain as much control over my body as possible.
04. look like: Matt Damon. People say I look sorta like him already, except uglier.
05. be like: myself
06. avoid: people that want to kill me
07. have sex with: lots of people, preferably all at once. lol.

LAST PERSON YOU...
01. touched: becca, hugged
02. talked to: becca, on the phone
03. hugged: becca (seeing a pattern?)
04. instant messaged: a fool of a took
05. kissed: my imaginary lover.

WHERE DO YOU...
01. eat: where there is food which I am eating
02. dance: er... dancing?... i'm a proud owner of 2 left feet and no inner ear...
03. cry: usually in my room, never in public
04. wish you were: new zealand/ireland

HAVE YOU EVER...
01. dated one of your best friends?: yes
02. loved somebody so much it makes you cry?: yes
05. broken the law?: yes
06. ran away from home?: yes, unsuccessfully
07. broken a bone?: nope
08. cheated on a test?: sure
09. skinny dipped?: yes
10. played truth or dare?: what's that?
11. flashed someone?: i'm not that mean
12. mooned someone?: again...^
13. kissed someone you didn't know?: no
14. been on a talk show/game show?: no
15. been in a fight?: Yes
16. ridden in a fire truck?: yes
17. been on a plane?: yes
18. come close to dying?: depends
19. cheated on your boy/girlfriend?: never
20. gave someone a piggy back/shoulder ride?: yes
21. eaten a worm/mud pie?: no, unless you mean the chocolate ones
22. swam in the ocean?: Yes, unfortunately.
23. had a nightmare/dream that made you wake up?: yes and it haunted me for the rest of the week.
24. had sex?: only in my dreams

FAVORITE...
01. food?: pasta- ususally fettuccini or spaghetti with alfredo/marinara (homemade)
02. drink?: water, by far.
03. color?: silver-blue
04. album?: Fumbling Towards Ecstacy by Sarah McLachlan
05. shoes?: whatever I'm wearing...
06. site?: it used to be RAD.E8 but it got lame. so probably Iconfactory or Spymac.
07. dance?: er... funky chicken?
08. song?: oh mah goodness, you cannot expect me to choose... I'd have to say "Stop" by Pink Floyd. 30 seconds of bliss.
09. vegetable?: bell peppers
10. fruit?: strawberries
11. scent?: baking cookies

WHAT IS...
01. the most embarrassing CD in your collection?: this french guy singing old 1930s music.
02. your bedroom like?: a mess. two walls lined with desks, which are covered in computer apparati, papers, a bed shoved arbitrarily against the other wall, a bookshelf, books, more computers, CRT screens, stereo, 3 lights... and my drafting board.
03. your favorite thing for breakfast?: french toast
04. your favorite thing for lunch?: anything besides sandwiches with wilted lettuce and soggy bread.
05. your favorite thing for dinner?: whatever my mom is making, because she's the best cook in the world.
06. your favorite restaurant?: don't really have one, i guess maybe baja grill...
07. your most embarrassing moment?: going on a long rant about christianity in class and having everybody yell at me, including the teacher, who was the instructor for the Christian Club. *sigh*

ARE YOU...
01. a vegetarian?: When its convenient
02. a good student?: compared to other kids, yes, otherwise no.
03. good at sports?: bahahahaha no
04. wakeboarding/snowboarding.. etc?: never done any of those things
05. a good singer?: oh dear lord...
06. a deep sleeper?: not really
07. a good dancer?: what is it with this survey and dancing?
08. shy?: some of the time.
09. outgoing?: some of the time.
10. a good storyteller?: er. no. I ramble.
11. last words?: hello world

Life:

Where green eyes and wildfire hearts drown in a sea of glittering black hair, swung from the head like a trophy of some long ago panther hunt; when Rasputin's voice quavers and the holy triad sinks into the ignomity of oblivion; while New Zealand ghosts wait for redemption and retribution; who sat and cried in the dark of an oaken woods among scattered weeds and a small roadsign that says:
Motor Vehicles
Prohibited

I wonder how many people who have those "Ally" pink triangles really are "allies." I mean, its like people in Alabama saying they're not prejudiced, but if you drop a black person into their Suburbia, they flip out and lynch him. The world seems like a pretty hypocritical place sometimes. And yes, I know I'm just beating a rotting corpse of a horse that's been beaten to death. Sorry. Just sort of realizing that now.

I got back from tutoring this kid today and I went and set up a nice toasty fire with some hot chocolate and my history book, and I was all snug and comfy and the world was good. Then my dad walked in the door, told me to "put the fucking chair back, that's not where it belongs," and then had me clean the kitchen, and the world was bad. So now I'm sitting, as usual, in my room, being totally emo and listening to extremely loud music because I'm extremely pissed off.

I will bring you to life. I will make you out of pain and despair and passion, and you will be my one, my only. You will be red as the summer blood, green as the rot on a piece of bread, and black as the darkest rage. You will be yellow as dead daisies and blue as asphyxiation. And I will love you with all the darkest passion and lust of a thousand plagues, with all the fury of avenging demons.
You will be clear as diamond and iridescent as the night sky. You will be as beautiful as a monarch and as pure as the snow falling around me. I will shape you with understanding and with care, with temperance and with love. My blood will be yours, my life will be yours, my soul will be yours.
You are my beautiful contrasted one, my creation. You are mine but I am really yours, and I always have been. Because the truth shall set me free...

Death, darkness, and human fallacy

It is strange to think how many people have died over the years. It is some huge amount, I would imagine. Trillions, quadrillions, God knows how many. And then you think of how many of those people that died, how many wives or husbands or families cried over their death. How many thousands of tears were shed over how many trillions of deaths. And maybe that's the one permanent thing in our existance- sorrow. Happiness and sadness are fleeting individual emotions, but through the world, I believe the dominance would shift towards sadness and despair. I think it always has.

At the Hospice event I attended tonight, there was a priest, a rabbi, and a pastor (no, this is not some lame beginning of a joke), who spoke to us about the triumph of light over dark, of life over death, of happiness over sadness. But I believe that is a delusion. In the end, death wins always. The night will come when the sun finally runs out, and if nothing else, a neutral emotion where sadness or happiness should be will win out. It is not a bad thing, to have darkness win. It is only natural order. And perhaps, this is where the fallacy and the allure of religion factors in. Perhaps religion is what people create when they feel the darkness gliding through the world at night, when their loved one dies, when they are always crying. Perhaps religion is the antithesis of the natural order- a forcible fallacy that we perpetuate in order to convince ourselves that some abstract "good" will win in the end. And I think it shows how many people hurt, how many people are scared, by the dominance of religion. It is comforting to think that someday all the wrongs will be righted, all the darkness will be banished, and death will be abolished. Isn't that what the Christian view of heaven represents? A city of light, of happiness, of immortality. I have also noticed that this is most common in the western, Judeo-Christian religions. Often in the East the ideas of negative immortality surface- Nirvana, becoming one with the natural order. This makes more sense to me. When I'm coerced into going to church, I feel somehow that we're going the wrong way, that the whole congregation is fighting against the tide. We constantly remind ourselves that we cannot sin, that we must strive for wholesome goodness. Our whole point is to refine ourselves to be 'good' where the ideas of the East strive not for 'good' but for acceptance, for understanding.

Can you imagine a world without darkness? Darkness is what defines what we see, silence defines what we hear. Death defines life and sadness defines happiness. A world of only light, of only happiness and joyous noise and immortals- it is a world of no contrasts and of no definition. It has no point in existing. And ultimately that is where Buddhism and Daoism make more sense to me- the idea that everything has a balance and that neither side is right or wrong. Light with dark, happiness with sadness, and life with death. Judeo-Christian teachings of good and evil are ultimately artificial human creations with no link to the natural world and therefore no relevancy.

We are all immortal and we are all dust. We are lightness and we are darkness. We are jubilant and we are despair. We are not good and we are not evil.

We simply are.

Survey

Erik is bored and boredom, naturally, produces surveys so that other bored individuals can relieve their boredom.

1. What is your full name and birthday?

2. Do you like chocolate? Explain.

3. Do you think the world presented in the book 1984 is possible?

4. In the fundemental progression of humanity as a species, do you think we're heading in a positive direction or are we regressing? Like, say we skip forward 200 years. Will society be better then, or will it be worse?

5. Would you rather spend your life watching a bonsai tree grow or watching water pour from a fountain?

6. Which is more destructive, fire or water?

7. Do you like disco?

8. Suppose, for a moment, that there was a massive right-wing conspiracy one night and suddenly all the food was turned into peanut butter. In fact, every manufactured product from that point on was peanut butter. Assume, for the sake of the question, it was all chunky. What would you do?

9. Would you rather burn for four trillion years in hell or spend eternity bored in heaven?

10. What would you name your child, assuming you had one?

11. What do you wish your name was, if it had to be something different then your current name?

12. Are you, or have you ever been, romantically involved with anybody besides yourself?

13. It is unlucky to have a question on the thirteenth.

14. Are you religious? If so, which religion do you affiliate yourself with? Why?

15. Suppose dying was optional. Kids played with real guns and fights regularly turned fatal. How do you think this would affect society?

16. Do you support using the death penalty? Why or why not?

That's all, folks!

Stop

I want to go home
take off this uniform and leave the show
but I'm waiting in this cell because I have to know
Have I been guilty all this time?


"Well, I have to go now."
"Aw, why?"
"Guess."
"Your dad needs the phone?"
"Nope..."
"George?"
"He's supposed to call about now."
"Oh. *...long silence...* Bye then."
"You sound sad, Erik. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I was right, that's all. See you tomorrow."
"Um..."
*click*

Just breathe. Reach inside and breathe. Everything is going to work out, everything is going to be ok. Everything seeks equilibrium. Then why the hell am I crying? It shouldn't even matter to me. So she wants a boyfriend. Okay. I'm not her boyfriend, I'm not even attracted to her. Why the fuck do I care then? Am I really that starved for attention? Am I angry that the one person who loved me for who I am is trying as hard as they can to leave me? Yes. Yes, I am. And this time it feels real. It is real. Soon they'll start dating, and sooner or later this empty shell of my life is going to be rolling down the highway, chucked out of the pickup truck of their relationship.
And why shouldn't they? What have I offered her that would make me worth keeping? I can't love her like George would love her. I'm just a shoulder to cry on, a pillow to punch, an ear to yell in, cry in, whisper in. I'm simply an emptiness that talks back.


And after I wipe away the tears
just close your eyes, dear...
Into this night I wander
it's morning that I dread
another day of knowing of
the path I fear to tread
into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
because nothing stands between us here
and I won't be denied,
and I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away
and after I wipe away the tears,
just close your eyes...


I want to go home...