Icarus

Just because I do not have wings, does not mean I can not fly.

For you see me; I try, I try, I try.

I reach up high and spread my arms as if to fly because I just want to touch the sky.

My goal is to fly up to the sky to escape the lie, for when I reach the sky I will know I am high and the lie will be forgotten.

The forgotten lie, will proceed to die as I continue to fly ever so deeper into the sky.

So will you not help me? Help me get high so that I can fly into the sky and leave the lie behind to die? Or must I stay grounded since I have no wings with which to reach the sky and lye in my lie. 

Walls

Slamming up my cold hard walls,

made of cold hard stone,

to protect my cold hard heart,

from feeling so alone.

Running in the other direction,

taking a huge step back,

because my cold hard heart,

 was starting to crack.

Slamming up my cold hard walls, 

made of cold hard stone,

to protect my cold hard heart,

from feeling so alone. 

LIVE

We live in a day and age where everyone knows how much something cost, and what we have to do to get it. For example a house can cost $XXX,XXX number of dollars, and that car we want could be $XX,XXX. And then we have this job that pays anywhere from $XX,XXX - $XXX,XXX a year. And we know the price of our grocery bill, and how much it would cost to take our family out to that nice little restuarant down the street. We learn what it means to earn and spend money from a very young age in our society. Which is awesome, right? RIGHT? Because it means we are all going to be amazing, intelligent, business, oriented people who know how to make and spend and manage money? And we allow that to become our focus in life. I want this when I grow up, and in order to do so I have to have this much money, and this much education - that I have to somehow pay for.

But we focus so much on the actual cost of some things, that we forget what they are actually worth. What is the house you want if you can not make it into a home. What is that nice car you just bought, without the memories you will make of trips with your family or friends. What is that meal you just ate without the laughter and conversation shared at the table.

If all we focus on is making the money in order to live, then the living done with said money means nothing; because it is not truely life being lived, merely a puppet playing along its strings going through the motions that society has given it in order to live what appears to be a "happy" lifestyle.

So don't forget in you're quest to gain these things you want from life - the majority of which we associate with needing money to do - to actually live. Don't forget to enjoy the small things in life, take a moment to breathe in the world around you and appreciate things. Find the true worth in that house you just bought, or the dinner you just paid for. Don't let the cost of something take away from the worth it has and don't be so busy going about life that you actually forget to live.

Pathetic Fallacy

Its funny, how these two weeks are forcasted to be cold, miserable, wet, colorless, and devoid of life. Much like college students all around the country. Yes, you guessed it. Its finals time. For the next two weeks the majority of college students around the country are going to be zombies running on little to no sleep, spending hours in the library cramming for an exam worth the majority of their grade, consuming everything from black coffee to adderall in order to stay focused and try to acheive that oh so needed grade.

Yet its pathetic really. It is pathetic that this behavior is even neccessary, and it is pathetic that we place so much value in a grade, when it is really just a number. At the end of your college path does it really matter? I mean whats the difference in someone with a 2.5 GPA and a 4.0 GPA. Honestly? Nothing, because they both have a college degree, and I assure you the person with the 2.5 had a hell of a lot more fun earning that degree. So why as a society do we still place so much value on a number? on a letter?

I will tell you why. Its because it gives us a sense of purpose. We as humans feel the need to seperate ourselves from one another. We want to be different. We do not wish to be part of a herd that is viewed as one cohesive unit where one animal is indistinguishable from another, other than a few asthetic features.

Ok. Im sitting here writing this, and keep going back and forth. Should we have grades or should we not. And honestly my brain is arguing both sides. yes they are good, no they suck. And I think it depends on the situation. I am inherintly selfish so when I know I have worked my ass off and I know the material and can do it way better than someone else, then of course I want to be recognized for it. Of course I want that "A+" however, if I am performing at a mediocre level, its like why? Why should we be graded, I know just as much as that star pupil does, so why cant we both just pass the class and be done?

Honestly, It is 5 am and I dont even know where I am going with this anymore. This is litterally just brain fart on a page. Kind of like stream of conscious but a little more cohesive. However stream of conscious royally sucks, and for those of you who dont know what it is, I advise you to never read "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." Of course unless you enjoy having your brain screwed with, then be my guest.

Wow, I think my brain may actually be fried, and it could be due to the copious amounts of black coffee I have been drinking along with an increased nicotene intake in order to pull all nighters to study for subjects that will be insignifigant in a few years, or it could be due to the lack of sleep. But I am going to roll out of this bed in approximatly four hours, drag myself to a study session, and then go back to the library where I will continue to not sleep, drink coffee, and fill my brain with information that I will forget within the week.

But anyways, Happy Finals to everyone and as Effie always tells us "May the odds be ever in your favor" except really, were all screwed except for that one person who makes a 100 on the final and screws the curve for the rest of us, leaving us metaphorically dead with our C & D's while they enjoy the A+ of a Victor. (yeah, totally brain fried... for those of you who haven't read the hunger games, just ignore this last paragraph)

Depth.

Just the way the word rolls off the tongue when spoken in the English language gives the perception of endless black voids. Initially it reminds one of death, death with a hard p in the middle. And isn't death, deep? isn't that what death is? An endless black void, from which there is no escape? Perhaps, although that would be quite depressing. Because could the word depth not also be used with an endless vision of pure white light that is never ending and continues way beyond the human perception? 

And then of course, one cannot forget the ocean. The word depth is typically used when describing those areas hundreds of miles from a shoreline where undiscovered species still linger, and the water becomes so black that even the fearless do not venture there. Yet even with that depth, one merely has to swim back into the light by going up, then they reach the sky. Which has it's own depth, but not in the same way...

When you consider depth, and how deep you're willing to go, do you lean more towards the black void? Or is it a clear bright white expanse that never ends? 

Neither is wholly bad, nor are they wholly good. They just merely are. They are deep, and anything could be discovered in those depths.

My childhood ended with Harry

"The stories we love best live in our hearts forever"  

~ J.K. Rowling

The first book in the Harry Potter series was released in 1997, when I was only four years old. However, the books did not begin to gain popularity until late 99 early 2000. At which point I was a 6 year old boy. Somehow (I don't remember how) at the age of 6 I found out about this book and wanted to read it; however, my mother was skeptical as to whether or not I should read it, due to my young impresionable age. So, she read it first, and once she decided it was not about satanism or devil worshiping she concluded that I could read it, as long as I understood that it was a fictional book and was not real. Which I did. So at 6 years old, my mother and I started reading the first Harry Potter book together. Thus bloomed my love of reading and overall love of the series. As the years went by J.K. Rowling continued to release books, and I continued to eagerly await the release of the next book in the series.

In a sense I grew up with the novels, with the characters themselves. I was around the same age as the characters as the books were released (especially further into the series, because I aged quicker than the books could be released). And I remember the many adventures I went on with Harry, Ron, and Hermione with great fondness. While yes they are merely characters in books, I would consider the three of them to be some of my bestfriends growing up. (for you non-readers this may sound really weird... however, if you love reading the way I do, then you understand exactly what I am saying!) The three of them, as well as many other characters will always hold a special place in my heart. And the best thing is, the memories I made as I went on adventures with them will always be accessible to me, because I can always just pick up the book and re-read it! (which I have done many times over with the entire series!) And for those of you that do not enjoy reading the way I do, or understand how it can take you to places you could never actually go, I am deeply sorry. Becuase you will never be able to understand the place the novels and stories I have read over the years hold in my heart. You will never understand how it has helped to define the man I am today.

To me Harry Potter represents a huge part of my childhood. Many of my childhood memories I can associate with Harry Potter. Such as how while I was reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix my dad left me at a service station. He left me there for over an hour without even realizing that he had. And I didn't realize it either, because I was so caught up in my adventure with Harry and friends as we broke into the Ministry of Magic to find the prophecy. I remember laying in bed at night when I was 6 years old, reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone with my mother and devoloping my love for not only reading, but also my love of learning and words. I remember having several birthday parties going to see the movies as they were released. I remember making special trips to Gastonia (which was a huge deal when I was in elementary and middle school) in order to go to Books-a-Million to pre-order and purchase the books. I remember laughing out loud and being filled with such a feeling of triumph and joy when Molly finally killed Belatrix whie defiantly exlaiming "not my daughter you Bitch" (possibly my favorite line from the entire series). I remember spending hours at my grandfathers side watching the movies with him when I would spend the night (because we would always stay up as late as possible when I spent the night, and watch movies all night! We would watch westerns for a while, and then we always had a Harry Potter marathon. Or at least watched 2 of them). So many memories from my childhood go hand in hand with Harry Potter. And as J.K. Rowling said "the stories we love best, live in our hearts forever." And Harry Potter will always hold a special place in my heart.

The reason I say my childhood ended with Harry, is because as the final novel/movies were released, I ended my high school career. I turned 18 and started to have to grow up. As Harry went on his last adventure, I was also pursuing my last adventure as a child. I was graduating high school, preparing to leave my parents and go out and make my own way in the world. So in a way it seemed perfect that the series ended when it did. Because the characters I had grown so fond of, were at the same stage in life as I was. As there schooling was ending, as they were becoming adults, so was I.

Fire and Ice

I'm laying here thinking about fire and ice, and that poem by that one guy, oh yeah, Robert Frost, and how I never really understood it and probably still don't. But that's besides the point. Fire and Ice are two completely different things, one is extreme heat and one is extreme cold (although some would argue that cold does not technically exist, it is merely an absence of heat, but whatever). But as I lay here I keep having this mental image of two icy wolves at war with a single flaming horse. You know a stormy background, lightning flashing, the elements at war with themselves. Let your imagination run with that one (I know I'm weird, get over it) And for some reason I see myself in both of them in several ways. Not only because they are my two favorite animals but also because of the intensity of the colors that I picture and the emotions I associate with each one. The firery horse I associate with passion and life. Freedom and power. A love that burns incredibly strong. Then the icy wolf is also strong, however intense and deep. Free and powerful but in a different way. I then look at myself and I see both fire and ice. And sometimes they are in conflict with one another and wage a war within me that leaves no room for anything else. Both fire and ice are constant yet not. Fire changes and bends and moves almost like it is alive. You can look at it, yet one flame can not be studied because it is spent in seconds and another replaces it. Ice however is still, almost cold and dead. Yet, one can not clearly perceive the depths of the ice due to the ripples throughout and the way the light bends and breaks as it attempts to penetrate the cold heart of the ice. So in essence fire and ice, while completely different, are also the same. And I, like fire and ice am not simple.