Ever leave some place for so long you have no idea how to go back? Thats kinda what I'm feeling now. I pretty much never write in this anymore and so much has happened in my life that it's pretty much impossible to summarize any of it. So I'm not even going to try. For now, this is all I've got. So if I've learned anything in the past couple months, this pretty much sums it up: If you're not confused, you don't know what the fuck is going on. Thats where I stand, thats where I am right now and thats all you're gonna get. But who cares anyhow? Fuck it. The End.

Again I return to say nearly nothing at all.. Well, the past month and a half has marked in itself some major changes in me. I suppose I should explain in chronological order. I went to New York City for CMJ Music Marathon on September 14 - 17. It was my first time in New York City. I must've seen 30 or 40 bands while I was there as well as previewing Martin Scorsese's documentary on Bob Dylan called No Way Home and Walk the Line, a flick about Johnny Cash starring Joaquin Phoenix. I highly recommend everyone see No Way Home, even if you don't like Bob Dylan, its probably the best "rockumentary" I've ever seen. The Johnny Cash movie is alright, but nothing to change your underwear for. Most of the bands I saw while I was there were just a variety of indie bands that most of you have never heard of and, most likely, never will. Just the same, it was a new music experience and a bit of a culture shock. I could never live in New York. Too many fucking people breathing down your neck, too many ipods, too much consumerism everywhere. I need my personal space where I can just sit back and hate everyone. In New York, you're never more than 5 feet from the next person and if you want quiet, you have to shoot yourself in the face. Thats all I have to say about that. The following weekend was the big meditation retreat I was talking about in my previous entry. Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday of meditation and vegetarian meals in a Catholic center in the wilderness known as Our Lady of the Pines. It was an interesting experience. I suppose I learned a lot about myself. I learned 3 things for sure: 1) I can only stay focused for a limited amount of time before I just want everything around me to die, 2) I could never live in a structured environment where every minute of my day and my actions are planned out for me, and 3) I can only go so long before I have to eat something that bleeds. The whole weekend was supposed to be about personal reflection and in that it was successful. I wound up breaking just about every single rule they gave us because there were no real consequences for my actions. I have a problem with authority, planning, and organized religion. Therefore, this place was bound to irritate me. I’m not saying that it wasn’t a worthwhile experience because I really did do a lot of thinking and it gave me a chance to reflect on my life and my interaction with the outside world. Everything there was just so slow and relaxed, which is completely different that the usual environment we are all immersed and pretty much the opposite of the way I had spent the previous weekend. My next 2 weekends were relatively depressing. I learned of my grandmother’s sickness just before I went on the meditation retreat and her condition worsened and, by Friday, things were not looking good. So I went home to discover my grandma, live and in flesh and blood, my flesh and blood in a hospital bed, strapped down by a respirator and a cold sweat. And through the pain and the drugs she looks at me through her pale, fading eyes and says “It hurts and I’m tired of fighting it.” Fighting back tears, I wipe her hair, grasp her hand, and say “I just want you to feel better. No matter what that takes.” The following week, the woman who was flesh and blood transcended the bonds of life, love, and pain to become an object. What was once alive is now dead, what once was “she” is now “it.” Sad, true, whatever you want to call it, in the end, we all just want the pain to go away. And here I am, a week later. After carrying flesh and death in a box to its final place, watching as wrinkled cheeks carried tears of goodbye, here I am. What more can I say than that I am and I have to be until the pain takes me as well. Well, this entry was sporadic as always, but I don’t want to leave on a sad note, so I guess I’ll just leave you with a song. Download it: Willy Mason - "Where The Humans Eat" Where The Humans Eat "Why won't you listen When I speak? Why don't you listen When I stamp my feet? You don't belong Where the humans eat You don't belong. You don't belong to me. I have been working All fucking day. You lie there sleeping Your life away. You don't belong Where the humans eat. You don't belong. You don't belong to me. I just fed you And your fat brothers So why are you still Yelling at me? You don’t belong where the humans eat. You don’t belong. You don’t belong to me. (repeat x2)"

Well, I guess its time again for my bimonthly update. I don’t get on here to update very often anymore, but more than likely that will change. So the month of August was a pretty sweet month for me. At the beginning of the month, I went to the West Virginia on a whitewater rafting trip with my sister and a couple friends. It was a total rush. Then, after I came back from that trip, I went to Destin Florida with my cousin and a few friends of ours. We stayed at a condo that overlooked the beach. It was a lot of drinking and a whole lot of fun as well. Did I mention I love being 21? Anyhow, now I’m back at school and I’m finally living in my own apartment now. Pretty much, I’ve been partying non-stop since I moved in 2 weeks ago. A few pictures: I’m pretty wasted in all of those pictures, if it wasn’t already obvious. Aside from all of that, my classes are actually pretty cool this year. I’m particularly enjoying my meditations class. I had never really given meditating a chance before and I’m really starting to like it. My professor is really cool too. Soon, I will be taking a required all weekend retreat where no one is aloud to talk the entire time. I look forward to it, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to take it or not. It has the potential to be an eye-opening experience. Other than that, I’m really enjoying my Craft of Poetry and Philosophy of Language courses. And finally, I leave you with my favorite song from Death Cab For Cutie’s new album, Plans. It is absolutely amazing. I highly recommend you give it a listen. “I Will Follow You Into The Dark” Love of mine Someday you will die But I'll be close behind I'll follow you into the dark No blinding light Or tunnels to gates of white Just our hands clasped so tight Waiting for the hint of a spark If heaven and hell decide That they both are satisfied And illuminate the "no"s On their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you When your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark In catholic school As vicious as roman rule I got my knuckles bruised By a lady in black And I held my tongue As she told me "Son, Fear is the heart of love" So I never went back If heaven and hell decide That they both are satisfied And illuminate the "no"s On their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you When your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark You and me Have seen everything to see From Bangkok to Calgary And the soles of your shoes Are all worn down The time for sleep is now But it's nothing to cry about 'Cause we'll hold each other soon In the blackest of rooms If heaven and hell decide That they both are satisfied And illuminate the "no"s On their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you When your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark Then I'll follow you into the dark

So I haven't updated this in a while. I've been busy. Busy...and drunk. I just turned 21 on the 8th and, while that was like 2 weeks ago now, I'm still kind of celebrating. I mean, I had a big kegger and bonfire on my actual birthday, then I drank the next two nights at parties and stuff. The week was filled with many different miscealanious hangouts. I've been going out to the bars a few times and I've been frequenting this really cool hookah bar in Columbus. Last weekend I went and saw Pete Yorn play. Afterwards, I went to the bar with him and the band who played with them. I talked over cigarrettes and beer with the bassist and the drummer a lot. Pretty cool guys. They're called Minibar. Check 'em out. Anyhow, I got mistaken for the drummer at the bar once which was kind of weird, but whatever. Anyhow, I gotta go. More later. Okay so I would update this, but no one is going to read it anyways. So what the fuck is the point? Not that I have anything interesting to say anyhow. So fuck it.

"Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot." - Charlie Chaplin "I wait for the punchline, but it never comes." - 'Accidents' ~ Arcade Fire Straight to the point. I think that pretty much explains what I'm thinking right now.

Every time I go to write in this, I think I have something to say, but then I open a new entry and all that fills my mind is the blank space that lies ahead. It’s not that I have nothing to say, it’s that I lack the words to express myself. All that I have to do is pour out the internal dialogue that fills my head day in and day out, but when I really try to put it to text, I realize just how lame and uninteresting it really is. I generally don’t like to give the details about what I did with myself lately like where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing because most of the time those are just the trivial details that every other person writes about. That shit is just straight up boring. Unless I do something really awesome like sky diving or getting in a fight with some random celebrity (let’s say Tony Danza), I’m probably not going to write about it ’cause who really gives a shit about what the names of the people I hung out with yesterday, how wasted I was all weekend (which I can’t remember too much of to write about anyhow), or what I fucking ate today? Not that anyone cares about what I write anyhow, but I just the same try to focus on something a little more enduring than just simple dates, names, and places. I’m not saying that I’m trying to be profound or any of that other pretentious bullshit. I just want to say something about me, personally; something that you might not see about me just by a simple conversation with me; something, that perhaps, borders closely with what makes me different from everyone else. I don’t have any illusions about being unique or somehow separate from the rest of the societal masses. On the contrary, I believe myself to be quite very much the same as everyone else. However, the order of the events of my life and the perspective I view these events is unique. I suppose it is only in this respect that I can truly call myself unique. I view the world in a shell which no one else enters in a spatial coherence to which no one else ever occupies or even follows. Behind about 2 millimeters of skin, we are all alone. How much difference can a half of an inch really make? What is kept in this shell that is different from anyone else? What is here that is not out there? Sometimes I think there is nothing in me that is any different than what is in everyone else. Other times I think there is nothing outside of me that has anything in it that is at all like what I am inside. I suppose this is the human condition. To be completely different from everything and exactly the same all at the same time is part of what it is to exist. Biologically we’re the same, physically we are just varying models of the same piece of flesh, mentally we follow in much the same tracks as those before us and those around us, and spiritually we are all faithful or faithless and no matter which side we fall on, there are a million reasons to change our minds. So what is it to be me? The truth is I don’t know and I will never know. All I can say is that I am and that no one else is me. Whether that means I am separate, or that I am somehow connected to everyone else, one thing is certain and that is that no one can tell me the answer. It looks like I did finally find something to say. But who really gives a shit? I’m not even sure that I really do. How can I complain that no one listens to me when I really have nothing to say anyway? Fuck. I guess I'm just a babbling idiot and YOU wasted your time reading about it. I guess the jokes on you then. Thats all I've got. Fuck off.

I've been bored lately so I decided to make pictures for a screensaver because I'm tired of using the same old one that I had been. Its all just quotes and things that I pick up from various places. Its nothing too special and some of them kind of suck, but it keeps me occupied anyhow. Anyhow, here are the images that I've made so far: (Click The Images To Enlarge) I've also been doing some other stuff like this for no reason at all: And here is something I did for friend of mine that I thought was kind of a cool effect:

I have a problem with authority because authority has always had a problem with me. Fuck ’em. After a night of heavy drinking at DJ’s 21st birthday party, Mark and I decided to take a cruise in his dune buggy to see if we could locate our friend Sylas who had decided in a drunken stupor at 6 in the morning to take the 10 mile walk home in the rain. We didn’t get more than 2 miles away when we got pulled over by some fucking cop on a power trip. He claimed that we had not come to a full stop at a stop sign we had just turned from. He noticed we were not wearing seatbelts and asked Mark(the driver) why he had taken his off. He said that he had taken it off when he pulled over to the side to reach for his insurance. I had no such excuse for not wearing mine. So the next thing I know, I’m being called into the back of the police cruiser to speak with the cop while Mark waits in the car. The cop proceeds then to ask me why I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt. I said I didn’t even know where the seatbelts were on this thing (even though I did, but it was a pain in the ass to try and dig them out from under the seat so I just chose not to wear it). This is where the bullshit happened. He tells me that Mark is getting a warning for rolling to a stop and not wearing his seatbelt. I, however, am getting a fucking citation for not wearing my seatbelt. That’s right, ME not Mark, THE DRIVER, was getting a ticket. He says to me, “We’re on a ‘No Tolerance’ policy right now and we’re writing tickets to everyone we find without a seatbelt right now. [Here’s the kicker] I’m SURE you’ve seen the commercials.” Then, he then begins to tell me that he knows my dad and my family really well. He hands me a ticket for 48 fucking dollars and tells me to say hi to my dad for him. FUCK YOU!!! I HATE COPS. THEY ALL FUCKING NEED TO DIE. YOU FUCKING PIG. I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE! EAT SHIT AND BURN BITCH! GODDAMNIT!!!!!AHHHHH!!! At least, that’s what I was thinking at the time. BUT I swallowed my anger and got out of the car and left. The pig had done me on all fronts and blown a kiss to me as I left. Just then, I got a call from Sylas saying he’d been home for over an hour. Well fuck me. So justice was done today. The police once again triumphed and provided a valuable contribution to society. Some real serving and protecting happened today. It’s a good thing he took care of that horrible threat I was posing to society. I’m a changed man, let me tell you. Totally rehabilitated. I’ll never not wear a seatbelt again. I’ll think again the next time I want to endanger the lives of EVERYONE around me. It sure is a good thing that officer was there to set me straight. GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT I COULD’VE DONE IF HE HADN’T BEEN THERE. Christ, I could’ve killed myself (I hope you can sense the sarcasm because I’m laying it on pretty thick right here). Whose business is it anyways if I want to be safe? It’s my fucking life, isn’t it? Whether or not I want that added bit of security that a seatbelt provides is my own fucking choice. The state should not be making that choice for me. It’s not like ME not having a seatbelt is going to harm ANYONE, but myself. But no, I forgot, we’re in America. Here we don’t allow FREEDOM OF CHOICE. Maybe it’s just me, but I just don’t think it makes sense. My own safety is my own fucking business. The real reason I believe that I got a ticket, and I am sincerely starting to believe this, is simply because I have long hair. Mark looks like a short-haired model-for-society young man, dressed in stylish, but conservative clothes and I’m sitting there in jeans, a studded belt, a tight black t-shirt, and a beanie with my wild bangs and locks hanging from all sides. In his eyes, I’m a punk, a stoner, a fucking communist, a true threat to society. I’m not saying that this was the entire reason I got the ticket, but I DEFFINITELY feel I was profiled. And THAT is total BULLSHIT and I for one am sick of it. "This next record is dedicated to some personal friends of mine. The LAPD. For every cop that has ever taken advantage of somebody, beat 'em down or hurt 'em, because they got long hair , listen to the wrong kinda music, whatever they thought was the reason to do it, I'd like to take a pig out here in this parking lot and shoot 'em in they're motherfuckin' face."

TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF - The SurveyName:DougBirthday:July 8, 1984Birthplace:Irwin, Ohio(commonly referred to as the middle of nowhere)Current Location:...Still in the middle of nowhere.Eye Color:BlueHair Color:Dark Brown to BlackHeight:5'11"Right Handed or Left Handed:RightYour Heritage:German mostlyThe Shoes You Wore Today:EtniesYour Weakness:I'm rather unmotivated.Your Fears:Being horrifically stabbed. I just don't like the idea of a slow repeated stabbing. I mean...I think I'd just rather be shot instead.Your Perfect Pizza:Ready.Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year:Attaining a good journalism internship.Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger:C'est la vie.Thoughts First Waking Up:Can't I sleep any longer? I don't wanna get up.Your Best Physical Feature:Its small, but its fierce!Your Bedtime:Ussually really late...or really early depending on how you look at it.Your Most Missed Memory:Obviously, I can't remember if its a missing memory.Pepsi or Coke:Pepsi. None of that Coke bullshit. I've got your taste of originality right here.MacDonalds or Burger King:Burger King, probably. Theres no Satanic clowns there.Single or Group Dates:Whatever the night brings.Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea:Fuck Iced Tea.Chocolate or Vanilla:Chocolate.Cappuccino or Coffee:Neither.Do you Smoke:Yes.Do you Swear:Fuck no.Do you Sing:When I take a shower, I touch myself. Oh Oh Oh!Do you Shower Daily:Yeah.Have you Been in Love:Yes.Do you want to go to College:I'm in college.Do you want to get Married:Maybe someday.Do you belive in yourself:Sure.Do you get Motion Sickness:No.Do you think you are Attractive:I'd say I'm about average, if there is such a thing.Are you a Health Freak:No.Do you get along with your Parents:Yes.Do you like Thunderstorms:Yes.Do you play an Instrument:I have very limited musical ability.In the past month have you Drank Alcohol:Yes. Many times.In the past month have you Smoked:Yes.In the past month have you been on :As opposed to off?In the past month have you gone on a Date:Yes.In the past month have you gone to a Mall:No.In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos:Yes.In the past month have you eaten Sushi:No.In the past month have you been on Stage:No.In the past month have you been Dumped:No.In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:No.In the past month have you Stolen Anything:Maybe. Its possible.Ever been Drunk:Yes.Ever been called a Tease:No, I'm pretty much a sure thing.Ever been Beaten up:No.Ever Shoplifted:Yes.How do you want to Die:In some remote place where no one will ever find my body. I wanna go out with a bang, a grande finale and final salute to the end of all things.What do you want to be when you Grow Up:A journalist.What country would you most like to Visit:Australia or Amsterdam.In a Boy/Girl..Favourite Eye Color:Blue.Favourite Hair Color:Black or Pink.Short or Long Hair:Medium.Height:Somewhere within a foot of my height.Weight:Not morbidly obese.Best Clothing Style:Wow these questions are getting superficial. Fuck you if you need to know.Number of I have taken: Number of what? Lets say ‰ Number of CDs I own:Lots. Most of my music is on my computer, though.Number of Piercings:None.Number of Tattoos:None.Number of things in my Past I Regret:As if theres any real way of calculating that.CREATE YOUR OWN! - or - GET PAID TO TAKE SURVEYS! Yes, I've finally lowered myself into just posting surveys as entries. I think I'm just bored enough to actually be insane.

"There are four blind men who discover an elephant. Since the men have never encountered an elephant, they grope about, seeking to understand and describe this new phenomenon. One grasps the trunk and concludes it is a snake. Another explores one of the elephant's legs and describes it as a tree. A third finds the elephant's tail and announces that it is a rope. And the fourth blind man, after discovering the elephant's side, concludes that it is, after all, a wall." This is analogy to the religions of the world, if you could not already tell. What is missing from this is the fifth man to which the elephant shit upon. He determined that religion is full of shit and killed the elephant. More seriously, though, this analogy is one that a lot of professors of religion like to use to express that all religions have equal authority in the understanding of God. It is easy to see this analogy like that because each blind man is just doing his best to understand what he can based on what he has found. As I see it, however, each man may have an equally valid claim about what they have found, but they are all also equally wrong. It's not a snake, it's not a tree, it's not a rope, and it's not a wall. Its a fucking elephant. To me, the analogy says that all religions can't explain the truth so they jump to the conclusion that the first idea that hits them must be correct. Not to mention that, if the elephant is supposed to represent God, it pressupposes that God exists by there, in fact, being something there for the blind men to feel upon. I just found this analogy and thought it was kind of interesting. Take it as you will.

A tribute...

"If it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic." -Tweedledee "Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet." -Plato "I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments." -Jim Morrison "When you make Peace with authority, you become authority." -Jim Morrison "The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, the most dangerous plaything." -Friedrich Nietzsche “Never Forget!- The higher we soar the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.” -Friedrich Nietzsche Nevermind...

If there is a God, it's the end of the world and he is punishing people. 1st: Cochran, greed. 2nd: Shiavo, vanity. 3rd: Hedberg, sloth. 4th: The Pope, idolatry. Just a thought.

My world is a clock without numbers. The dizzy spin of a confused incrementation leading in all directions towards a return. In the end, I am always back where I started, constantly getting nowhere. This phantasmagoria is my disjuction, is my distraction, is my delusion, is my detention. I need to get a sense of direction, I need to plot a course, But most of all I need to decide upon a destination. I have a grasp on who I am, but I feel the need to reinvent myself. I want to become something new, something better. I want to change. I want to evolve. I want to get involved in something I believe in. I want to believe in anything. I am the lyrics never written, a vampire never bitten; a secret never hidden, a taboo never forbidden. And I'll never be forgiven for the life that I've been livin'. Careless and misguided is the path that I've decided, dazed and resided on top of disorder divided.

Republican, democrat, it’s all the same; two hands shoved up the same cow’s ass, feeding bullshit to the masses. Whether you’re on the right wing or left wing, we’re all on the same plane crashing. Naive liberals and stubborn conservatives are defined on the same page of the Divided Man’s dictionary. The childish bickering of our two party system is what keeps us from unity, stunts our evolution, and ultimately denies our freedom. The labels and lies that we are force-fed from birth promote this insanity, keeping us from revealing any real truth about the disease of our social order. We are blinded by our own eyes shut, gagged by our own tongues deceiving, and strangled by our hands working. The denial of our fate as fools in a flock is surpassed only by our egos on our journey to the slaughterhouse.

The time again has come to update. Anymore I'm either too busy to write here or just to lazy. For whatever reason, I decided it was time. I'm on spring break now and it is really lame. I was going to go down to New Orleans, but none of my friends have enough money to go. They're all either working or just sitting around like I am. Not that I can blame them. The only reason I would have had money was because my parents offered to fund me. So now I'm just sitting around the house, trying to distract myself when I can't get to sleep. Video games and movies are all I have to do now. At least I've got my computer...that at least offers me some way of reaching the outside world. I could drive someplace, I suppose, but there just isn't anywhere to go out here in the middle of nowhere. Its like living in prison here...minus the walls and free sex. Not that I can complain. I've been having a lot of fun lately. I've been going out to the bars and house parties to watch local bands play all over the place. A couple of weeks ago I went to one of the best parties I've been to in a while. Several different bands played and they were really good. Not to mention all of the cool people I've met. And theres nothing like a little alcohol and some greenery to put my spirits on high(Yes, pun intended). I'm thinking about going to see Death From Above 1979 this Saturday, but I'm not sure yet. My roommate really likes them and he might visit this weekend for the show. We will undoubtedly party in Columbus afterwards. Although, my parents are going away this weekend and I guess I could have a party here. Most people don't want to drive all the way out here for that though. Who knows? On a more serious note, Hunter S. Thompson died a few weeks ago. I realize its been a while since it happened now, but I feel like I have to comment on it. He apparently shot himself in the head while talking on the phone with his wife. According to this article, though, it doesn't look like it was unexpected. He would have felt trapped if at any moment he couldn't commit suicide. Honestly, I couldn't imagine him going any other way. Don't get me wrong, it really makes me sad that it happened, but its just how I think it was meant to happen. If Hunter would have just faded away like a fart in the dark, it would have been far sadder. People like him need to go out with a bang, not with a whimper. Hunter was and still remains one of my major influences on being a journalist. His death hits hard on me and still weighs on my chest. But let it be said here that Hunter did it right. His was a life well lived and his genious will ripple onward forever. Hunter, you are missed, but you live on just the same.

Well, its been about a month since I've done anything with this. I suppose its about time I update. Honestly, I don't even remember most of the stuff that I've done lately. Nothing too terribly important, obviously. Classes are going well. I'm still keeping up with all of my reading and so far I have A's and B's in all of my classes. Although, we're only like 3 weeks into them so nothing has been too hard yet. But who really wants to know about how my classes are going anyways? That shit is boring. Aside from classes, I have pretty much been partying nonstop. I live in a perpetual state of phantasmagoria. Living this way has offered me the chance at a new point of view on life. I've come to certain realizations that lead me to believe that nothing really exists but the here and now. I have to deal with the things that are happening now, one moment at a time until my eventual demise. I've also come to realize that time exists only as a concept set in our heads by routine and constant reminders of order. The basis for our standards of time come basically from two sources. First is St. Benedict, a monk who lived in 480 A.D. St. Benedict came up with the basic principles of daytime and nighttime in basic periods of time. Basically, this was just a way to determine when to pray. Also, he was the first to use a bell to signify what time it was. Monks prayed every 3 hours. If they were asleep, they were awoken to pray at each set interval of 3 hours. We use the same sorts of systems today. For instance, television is an event based schedule. How do you know when a new show is about to start? When the credits come on and a short(extremely long) commercial break. Secondly, the numerically based system of time that we use today was created by the railroad system to prevent collisions and keep a schedule of arrivals and departures. The system was then taken to the cities to divide up pay into hourly wages for factory workers. These workers, who had no clocks at this time, had no way of telling what time it was and were enslaved by the whistles and bells of the pocket watch-toting upper class business owners. Ever since then, we have had to measure our time down to the second to attain some greater concept of “promptness” and “order.” Back to St. Benedict, I would like to offer my opinions on him. He was an Italian monk who founded the monastic order known as the Benedictines. He also preached that every poor person on earth was doomed to hell, a concept that was also held onto for a long period of time. Some more extremist religions, in fact, still cling to this standard as well. Benedict rationalized that if God truly blessed his children by their essential goodness and how often they prayed to their lord, than all of the truly good, heaven-bound people would be rich. Those who were not wealthy must then surely be going to hell. Obviously, this is just bullshit. I'm not even going to try and refute such an incredibly retarded idea. Its just not worth my time. If you can't see the obvious bullshit behind that concept, just stop reading and smother yourself to death. I’m not saying that time is necessarily a good or a bad thing, but surely we must not allow ourselves to be completely subservient to one singular concept which carries with it sacrifices in the free choices of our lives. When evaluating our schedule, we must consider these consequences in each moment of our lives. We should not readily accept a value or ideal without considering its source and the things it changed at its inception. There could await serious long-term consequences if such a concept is accepted without a thorough evaluation. On that note, goodnight.

"They are cold, Still, Waiting in the ether, To form, Feel, Kill, Propagate, Only to die" -'Those To Come' by The Shins I generally don't list song lyrics, but something about this song hit me. I don't think I really have anything to say about it, take it as it is. My classes are actually starting to grow on me. I feel ready for this kind of work that I've got ahead of me. I've been reading and working dilligently since I got here while also maintaining a relatively healthy social life. I suppose it is only the first week and I shouldn't get too ahead of myself. I've got a lot of work to do over the whole semester; not just the first week. My philosophy classes are going over a lot of stuff I've already read and, to some extent, am already familiar with. It looks to be relatively the the same over the whole semester. I am actually happy about what I'm going to be doing, which is a change from my usual apathetic nature. Its an interesting feeling. It almost feels like true optimism. I actually feel like maybe things might work out for a change. Dealing with my friends in their problems have really made me realize what I have..or more what I don't have. I don't have these restraints on my life. I don't have any reason for regret or for disdain. For the first time in my life that I can remember, I actually feel like I might just yet make something of myself. And I'm really enjoying the things we are talking about in my courses. Not just the usual discourses on justice and happiness, but true analysis of life and beauty have entered into my coursework. And in my philosophy of film class, we are actually watching movies I enjoy watching. Well, I'm going to go read up now...so this is the end.

I was looking at my class sylabi today and all I can say is "Wow." I have got a lot of shit ahead of me this semester. Daily quizes, papers, and required readings will be my tortures for the next 4 months. I'm really going to have to shape up if I want to pass. Looks like its going to be a loooong semester. Thankfully, however, I have no classes before 12:30 and I'm only taking 4 classes so, with a little luck, I should be able to handle myself. In other news, I found out one of my good friend's is pregnant with my other good friend's child. She dropped out this semester and he is currently looking for a better job. Both are moving away and both are seperating for a while. My friends' lives completely changed in the course of just 3 days. If there is a God and he did in fact create the world in 7 days, he's deffinitely working harder to destroy theirs.All because a couple inches of rubber protection was absent. What a horribly beautiful creation life is? Even before a person is born, it is amazing how many things he or she changes. The effects of one life expands exponentially in all directions from the moment it is cast forth into existence. From one moment to infinity, life is amazing.

Lately, I've been, as many others have before me, trying to decide what love is. Despite the many resources that I have found, I am still unable to find a solid, unmistakable definition for the term. Here, on Dictionary.com, a definition is provided with as many technical deffinitions as one can muster using all of the complexities of a language which has yet to satisfactorily communicate emotions: Love:(lŭv) n. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance. Sexual passion. Sexual intercourse. A love affair. An intense emotional attachment, as for a pet or treasured object. A person who is the object of deep or intense affection or attraction; beloved. Often used as a term of endearment. An expression of one's affection: Send him my love. A strong predilection or enthusiasm: a love of language. The object of such an enthusiasm: The outdoors is her greatest love. Love Mythology. Eros or Cupid. often Love Christianity. Charity. Sports. A zero score in tennis. The problem with all of these words is that they are just that; words. Words are dead. They truly cannot communicate the abstract. For instance, if I was to say to you "I am in love," the sounds would travel from my voice to your ear. From there they would convert to electrical signals in your brain, triggering your experiences of love or lack of love, and you say "I understand." But how do I know you understand? Maybe your feelings of love, your ideas of what love is, are completely different than what I mean by love. Its not like you can show me an example of what love is. Its not something you can hold out and say "This is what love is" like you could if we were to define what an apple or a pencil is. No, since love is not an apple, all you can do is say you understand and all I can do is trust that you do. No test will ever suffice to prove the existence or non-existence of love. I believe this is why we have such difficult problems finding love in our lives. No one really knows what it is. And, more importantly, since no one can show you what it is, you can never know if you have ever felt it. You just have to trust yourself that you understand it. Even after you've figured out that you are in love, you will never really be able to tell if someone loves you back or not. I think it was said best by Diane Ackerman: "Everyone admits that love is wonderful and necessary, yet no one agrees on just what it is." Diane points out the logical problem with love. How can you determine the value of love without even being able to determine what it is. Is it a good thing? Is it a bad thing? One thing is for certain, though. Love requires something to work upon. An object of affection is always included in the contexts of which it is mentioned. Most would say that love is a good thing. However, most would also agree that it is not good to love the wrong things. For instance, it is often said that the love of money or greed is a bad thing. And then there's the egotistical problem. Everyone seems to agree that we have to love ourselves, but yet at the same time, we call someone an egotist who loves himself too much. What is too much? The answer to this question lies in another: how can love be measured? The truth to that is that it cannot. It is small and it is big, it is wide and it is short. It seems that it is always adjusting its depths. To find an accurate measure of love is to define it. Here is a story of what can do. Its up to you to determine if its false or if its true: It has been said that love is limitless, that it grows, that it comes, and that it goes. We can find it, we can lose it, we can run from it, and we can choose it. We can take it, we can give it, we can die for it, or we can live it. It can be left, it can be kindled, it can be kept, and it can be dwindled. Its something we can fall into, but can't climb out. Its something we can quit, but can't seem to time out. Love is chain that can be constricting, a drug that can be addicting. Its concept that evolves, and if you believe in karma, it revolves. It can be given, but cannot be lent. And any whore will tell you that its not up for rent. It is a slander that can't decide what it taunts, but when it is dead, it is sure that it always haunts. In short, love is a chance given to you by fate, an experiment in the early stages of hate. So here I am In the grave of love. Starved for its affection, Pushed without a shove.