How could I be drunk? I have to maintain control before its too late. Every second counts cause they'll steal your life away for their own hunger. Forever in debt to those that created you, for the thought of you. You will always pay as they always fulfill their monstrous appetites. Fear the baby boom that's covered the land and destroys all. We must stake claim and set things as they were before, before the thundering boom. Times they are changing, a little better, a lot worse, but our own fault.

In these post-modern times most parents end up nailing their children to the cross. Crucifying them for their own sins. Their insatiable appetites and exploitation of others to satisfy them, have guaranteed pain for posterity.

They have sold their children to slavery so that they could be gluttons. They have indulged their desires at the cost of the welfare of their offspring. We are hated for their faults and yet have little input regarding the path we are forced to follow.

They are greedy so we have to work twice as hard for half as much. They don't respect us so they'll surround us with pollution and waste. They're apathetic about our well being, so they stack the deck so that they win and we lose. The collective efforts of parents give more than enough reason to abandon that historic fifth commandment.

The opportunity for change is monopolized in the parents' favor. They use it to further their advantage, while attempting to convince the youth that it's for their own good.

They think that they'll live forever. A childish dream that they were never forced to give up. Maybe they will make that dream a reality. They advocate being drug addicts while admonishing their children for doing the same, only their drugs make them live longer and happier with a full head of hair, hard-ons and settled bowels.

They don't mind killing the rest of the world so that they can endure longer. Even if their efforts toward immortality fail, they will always live on through their infamy.

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A great proportion of the residents of Glen Ellyn could very likely be hideous demons. I say this because they can come and go from their homes without ever being seen. All you can tell is that some figure dwells in those opulent mansions.

In the morning I see them pull out of their attached garages and then ten hours later the return to the same garage. The door closes before they get out of their cars. Their windows are tinted so you can see them driving.

On weekends a team of minorities arrives at their homes to perform landscaping and do regular maintenance to the home. The service is prepaid so the residents don't come out when the jobs are finished.

Various times over the week I see a grocery delivery service drop packages off by their doorways, but those deliveries only come at night when you can't see the residents retrieve the packages.

Maybe they are allergic to the sun. Maybe they have social anxiety. All I know is that no human being is ever seen living in those mansions.

Months and years can pass without ever actually seeing these home owners, even if you are a neighbor. Eight foot tall fences surround their properties, trees and bushes line the borders, all providing privacy from curious eyes.

Why do these people go to such lengths to ensure privacy? The signs point to something hideous at work here.

People come to visit but are greeted by a maid or servant and told that the owner is incapacitated and that they can relay any message the visitor may wish to send. These odd intrigues slowly become forgotten by most neighbors, dismissed as trivialities. The mystery remains strong in the youth of the neighborhood and every year they try to catch a glimpse of the residence. One Halloween night a group of children succeeded...

The monsters won't come in the form of zombies or vampires, rather they will resemble those that are the most trusted in society, that of public servants and representatives of the people or a higher power. Their persuasion will be so powerful that those that aren't constantly critical of authority would be swept away with the current of support by the incompetent hoards.

The support of the masses makes it extremely tempting for other, non-incompetents, to join the crowd in hopes of exploiting the trust for gain, for nothing is more lucrative of a venture than taking advantage of the gullible. I used to think that nobody desired being ignorant or stubbornly wrong, however, most don't know of their ignorance and the wrong don't believe the right due to barriers to accurate information or the abundance of faulty information.

I voted today. That didn't matter a damn. Bush won anyway. He used the terror alerts to his advantage and Fox News was alongside force feeding the public fear every time the level changed, and it did frequently.

Judging myself I wouldn't consider myself a democrat, nor a republican for that matter. They all adhere too strongly to the party lines. Nonetheless, I've thought that this president and his administration has damaged my future enough, and that's why I had to vote against him.

The alternative wasn't much better, but at least he hadn't already failed as president and made no indication that he would change from the failure platform. Kerry did, however, appoint a pretty boy to run with him as vice president. I've listened to Edwards and found him to be a mimbo at best. Kerry was aloof, and distant and appeared to have to force any personality traits, and that certainly worked to his detriment.

Many people overlooked his faults so that they could get rid of the worst president, probably in the history of this country. But it wasn't enough. Bush's Rove machine was more powerful.

The south, the plains, the unpopulated areas all turned red on election night. The states that pay the most taxes, that have the strongest industry and infrastructure, they were blue without consequence. The democratic party failed on an election that should've been won even if they were all sleeping.

Unfortunately the idiots have spoken. Those people that blindly follow their faith. Those people that don't mind killing teenagers and adults, but rage against the idea of destroying a life the size of a pea. Those people that live lavish lifestyles supported by avoiding be taxed and exploiting the people below them. Those people that worship fuel and foolishly believe that having a former oil businessman in office would keep their gas prices down. Those people that adore war and crave the spilling of blood with ardent fervor. Those people that are unable to doubt a person no matter if they have a long history of lies. Those people that fail to realize that we are all on this planet together and we cannot afford to alienate the rest of the world to help out our old business partners. All of those people helped contribute to Bush's victory.

There seems to be too many of these morons for democracy to be good for the world. I think that in the past, our fore-fathers believed that these idiots would never make an effort to participate in government, but today there are greater incentives for them to participate. Politicians pander to these people and like sheep they remain flocked together even at the polls when there is no retribution for deviating from the norm. I'm starting to become convinced that democracy is a failure.

Sometimes I think that we would be better off if those that didn't know better were denied a voice in the process. But there would be no way to determine a criteria to deny voters based upon their version of the truth, because there are so many versions of the truth. We could hope that the idiots would cancel themselves out, however this is not the case since the interests of the moronic are already under the reservation of the republicans and any attempt by the democrats to infiltrate that segment would only make them less appealing.

Bush did a wonderful job of courting the idiot. He appeared at a NASCAR event and said, "jenelmin star ur injins". With those mispronounced words, millions of rednecks, hill-billies and farmers became unwavering supporters regardless of Bush's platform. He needlessly led the USA into war. This caused every gun totting NRA nut job, every person connected to the war machine, every asshole and every military family that believes that national solidarity is what wins wars to become mindless republican zombies. He also misnamed initiatives to sound corrective but were rather damaging to our economy, environment and image around the world, so that every person that doesn't dig deeper than the surface believes in his deceptive good faith. He also opposes abortion which is the trump card in getting those lamb-like Christians to support him with religious conviction.

So with all that working towards his advantage I shouldn't be surprised that he got elected. I guess I thought too highly of Americans. I'll work on that.

I saw Kurt the other day in all of his arm flailing glory. He was at a Halloween party at an apartment near Illinois State's campus. He was drunk and eventually passed out allowing some prankster to draw a crude depiction of a penis on his cheek.

I was invited by my old roommate to come down and party around campus with the promise that I could crash at his dorm with my girlfriend. She decided against staying in the dorm and we booked a hotel room for the night. We drove to our alma mater without saying much to each other. I assumed we were enjoying the open scenery of the Illinois farmland.

When we arrived at the hotel my old roommate called me to see if I wanted to hang out for a while before the party. My girlfriend informed me that she had no intention of leaving the hotel before the party.

I said that I would at least go and see all my old for a couple hours. For some reason this upset her that I wouldn't spend that time with her. I explained that we see each other every day and that I haven't seen these old friends for months, so I couldn't squander the opportunity without losing a degree of friendship.

After that comment she was livid - crying, shouting and accusing me of not loving her. I responded to her outrageous outburst by saying that it was a forced response to get me to abandon seeing my friends. She became intensely cool and with angst told me to go and have my fun.

I did and was able to forget about the drama for an hour until she started calling me every ten minutes. I became frustrated with trying to calm her over the phone and told her that I'd be back at the hotel in an hour. She kept on calling and I was so agitated that I turned off the ringer on my cell phone.

Arriving back at the hotel she was irate. I thought she had gone insane within the last several hours. I couldn't understand why she was so upset. I assumed that she had anxiety over seeing people we both hadn't seen in almost a year. In fact, she had never been that comfortable in social settings.

She told me that "we" weren't going to the party and insisted that I spend the evening with her alone. I told her that we have spent many evening together in privacy in Chicago and that traveling 150 miles to do so while at the same time alientating all our old friends was ridiculous.

The argument became even more heated and I just shutdown and stopped responding to her absurdity. This made matters worse and she eventually hit me in the face. I was laying on the bed with my back against the bedboard. Her hit forced my head to strike the top edge of the bedboard and it was quite painful.

I became enraged and subdued her and in the process ripped a sleeve from her shirt. Gathering my wits back together, I realized how irrational she had been and I decided to leave her in the hotel room alone and deal with her when she was more in control of her emotions. I gathered my things, concerned that she would destroy them in her rage, and left for the campus without her.

I found out later that while I was out she ordered room service complete with beer and food, and charged it to the room. Then called her father to drive 300 miles round-trip to pick her up.

Feeling a bit depressed I wasn't in my best spirits throughout the night. At the party while most people were mingling I was sitting on a couch smoking and drinking. I saw Kurt and he pretended that he didn't notice me.

See, Kurt was my girlfriend's ex-boyfriend, the one before me, and they had lingering tension due to a mutual gay friend that preferred her with Kurt because he was more in possession of her rather than the ex-boyfriend.

I went up to greet him and he was slurring incoherently. Someone told me that he had been drinking since ten o'clock that morning. He had been an alcoholic since before he enrolled at ISU. Within the hour he was laying unconscious on the floor.

Antics continued throughout the night with Kurt at the focus. People removed his shoes and placed them on his hands, they drew upon the exposed parts of his body and when no place was left they took down his pants and made vulgar images on his ass. He passed out near nine and by eleven people grew tired of abusing him.

He was laying across from me in a putrid embarrassing heap. I starting thinking that I wanted to attend this party with my girlfriend but instead I got had her ex-boyfriend's company. I finally found the humor in the situation and shook off the depression and started mingling.

I had several good conversations. People were dressed in costumes and were enjoying themselves and each other. I caught up with all I had missed since graduating. A sophomore girl was flirting with me and I had to inform her that I was spoken for, but nothing became awkward and we all had genuine fun.

At the end of the night I told my old roommate that I had to check on my girl saying that she wasn't feeling well and that was the reason she couldn't join me at the party. I went to the room to find it vacant besides a half eaten meal and four empty beer bottles. The next morning I checked out to find the little extras were charged to the room, doubling the expense of staying there.

I went out to breakfast after checking out and met up with my old friends which included an exgirlfriend of mine sitting at a bordering table. We had a terse conversation, briefly catching up on each other's lives. She had dropped out of school and was working full time. I told her who I was seeing and she replied that it was great I found someone so pure. I laughed and agreed. The remainder of the meal we refrained from speaking. I said good-bye to them all after paying my portion of the check, and they all asked me when I'd come back to visit again. I told them that I'd have to play it by ear. They all seemed to understand and didn't give me hell over it.

I drove home alone. It wasn't much different than the drive down.

ACT TWO

B is sitting facing the audience, on the floor, crossed legged. H is sitting on a box, center stage, facing the curtain. C and J are standing by the curtain. I is laying on the ground next to a box. There are many more images of different colors and sizes, some moving some not.

J: There must be a more to this.

C: How do you figure?

J: Well, why do some go and some stay, some move and some don’t, color and size, height and width; there must be a reason for the change.

C: [Sitting on a box] I heard that it’s all an illusion.

J: And how can that be? I’ve used my own eyes and you can verify with yours. Now how can it be an illusion?

C: But if it’s not an illusion, then how do they change?

J: [Sitting on a nearby box] Something must be changing them.

C: Are you changing them?

J: No, I don’t think so. I bet it’s someone on the other side.

C: Why would anyone change them?

J: Maybe it’s a message.

C: That makes sense.

J: But what is the message?

C: That there is someone on the other side!

J: Genius!

C: Wonderful, now I can go back to what I was doing before.

J: Wait, wait, wait is that all the message is trying to convey?

C: I don’t know.

J: There are many things, so wouldn’t it mean that there are many messages?

C: That makes sense.

J: So what are the other messages?

C: That there are things that appear and disappear.

J: Genius!

C: That some things go and some stay, some move and some don’t, color and size, height and width… they all can change.

J: And all because of someone on the other side!

C: [Standing up] Oh my, I just thought of something crazy.

J: Come on, out with it.

C: Aren’t we things too?

J: [Looking at arms] I can’t see why not.

C: Well what if that someone on the other side could change our width, height, size and color?

J: [Standing up] I don’t see why not.

C: And if someone on the other side could do all that, couldn’t that someone make us appear and disappear?

J: I don’t see why not. Oh, oh, what if that someone already made us appear?

C: That makes sense. I really can’t remember before I was, can you?

J: No I can’t.

C: Isn’t that strange that neither of us can remember before we were?

J: That is suspicious, but it’s just more evidence that we’re right.

C: You’re right.

J: So are you. [Shaking hands]

C: [Pacing back and forth] So if we were made to appear by someone on the other side, then we can be made to disappear.

J: [Following C back and forth] I don’t want to disappear.

C: [Stopping and turning, J almost bumps into C] Neither do I.

J: How can we avoid disappearing?

C: [Turning towards the curtain] The answer is probably in a message.

J: But what if we the message came already and we missed it?

C: We just have to try to think like someone from the other side.

J: So, if I was on the other side what would I tell me?

C: I would say that I am in control and you better be listen to me or else!

J: I would say that if you’re not nice, I’d make you disappear.

C: I would say that everything I say goes.

J: Why?

C: Because I said so.

J: Now were onto something.

C: The most important something.

J: [Sitting down] I feel relieved.

C: [Pointing at I] Should we tell him?

J: Why bother?

C: Maybe he’d like to know.

J: If he wants to ask then we’ll tell, otherwise who cares?

C: What if someone on the other side cares?

J: [Head shaking] I don’t see how.

C: Well I’m going to tell him. [C walks over and taps I on the shoulder, he wakes up with a jump]

I: [Sitting up] What nerve? Can’t you see that I’m resting?

C: I’m sorry but there is something, the most important something, that I have to tell you.

I: [Turning away from C] Who cares?

C: [Stepping into I’s line of sight] Exactly. See we figured out the secret about those things over there?

I: [Turning away from C] Who cares?

C: [Stepping into I’s line of sight] You see there’s someone on the other side making those things and us as well.

I: [Irritated] Making us?

C: Yes, that someone has control.

I: [Head shaking] Control?

C: [Head Nodding] Control.

I: [Head shaking] Over us?

C: [Head Nodding] Over us.

I: [Getting up] So anything I do, it’s not really me doing it?

C: I guess you’re right.

I: So if I do this [Punching C in the stomach and C keels over] then it’s not really me doing it?

C: Oh, I guess you’re right.

I: This too? [I kicks C]

C: Ouch, right again.

I: What about this. [I pushes C to the ground and kicks him again]

C: [Hurting] Ah, still not you, but you do seem to be enjoying it.

I: But it’s not me enjoying it, it’s the… um… the…

C: Someone on the other side of the wall?

I: Right you are. [I kicks C one last time and C crawls over to J. I lays back down in a huff]

J: [Smiling] How did it go?

C: [Getting up] Well I think he got the point, but I got a beating.

J: I told you it was a bad idea.

C: But if I didn’t tell him he might have accidentally made himself disappear.

J: But then you wouldn’t have gotten beaten.

C: [Sitting on a nearby box] You’re right.

J: That’s why you should keep things to yourself.

C: I still would have done it if I had known the outcome.

J: You’re an idiot.

C: [Pointing to the curtain] What if it was a test from the other side, to see how well I was getting the messages?

J: Well how do you know that letting others know about the other side is in any of the messages?

C: It only makes sense. If we were created by that someone from the other side wouldn’t it be right to give credit where credit was due?

J: I guess it would be wrong not to, but I still say that you didn’t have to go and tell him. What would you do next; tell everyone else?

C: [Getting up] You’re absolutely right.

J: [Shaking head] You’re an idiot on a mission.

C: A mission from the other side.

J: [Shaking head] You’ll get beaten again.

C: It’s out of my control. [He walks up to H, between her and the curtain]

H: Do you mind?

C: Oh, sorry. [C steps out of the way] Have you come to any conclusion yet?

H: Many. Each one is different and unique unto themselves. And then you have combinations and permutations of existing conclusions. Sequences and sets. The possibilities are endless.

C: Have you figured out what these things mean?

H: What do you mean mean?

C: I mean that the things have meaning. Something is conveyed with those things.

H: Of course, color, size, duration…

C: No, no, no. Why are they there?

H: Because they had the potential to exist?

C: No, because someone on the other side made them appear. They’re messages from the other side.

H: Have you ever seen the other side?

C: No, not exactly… but I’ve never seen my insides either but they’re there.

H: Just because you have insides doesn’t mean there’s another side.

C: But it makes sense.

H: Many things make sense. It makes sense if I were controlling the things.

C: [Suspicious] Are you controlling them?

H: No, I don’t think so. But I don’t think it’s someone on the other side.

C: But the other side makes everything easier to understand.

H: By making it more complex?

C: It makes more sense.

H: Sense doesn’t make sense.

C: And random chaos does?

H: [Nodding] Sometimes.

C: [Head shaking] I’m getting nowhere with you.

H: At least it’s not the wrong direction.

C: [C, irritated, walks away over to B] Are you crazy too?

B: I don’t think there’s anybody qualified to answer that question.

C: Well, I’m done with riddles and doubt. I need answers.

B: You already carry them with you.

C: I can’t find them.

B: You’re not looking hard enough.

C: But, I’ve tried.

B: That’s where you failed.

C: Can you help me?

B: I don’t think I could.

C: Will it hurt to try?

B: It depends.

C: I’ll take my chances.

B: Then proceed.

C: Well, first off, I don’t know if there is another side.

B: Both sides are different perspectives of the same thing.

C: I don’t know which side to focus on.

B: Focus in between.

C: I don’t know what to want.

B: Stay that way.

C: I don’t know who created me.

B: There is no creation.

C: I don’t know when I began.

B: There is no I, and there was no beginning.

C: I don’t know if we will end.

B: There is no end.

[Stage lights turn off, followed by the lights on the curtain]

The End

[I did finish the story and made it into a short two act play. I'm including it here since it wouldn't fit in my other blog. I'm seperating it by act. Enjoy.]

Characters
H – Female
I – Male
C – Male
B – Either Gender
J – Either Gender


ACT ONE: Five people are sitting on boxes strewn randomly over the stage. Behind them there is a white curtain with lighted images appearing and disappearing continuously, at first vary few images.

H: [looking behind at the curtain at the images] Did you see that?

J: See what?

H: [Pointing at the image on the curtain] That. Did you see that?

J: Maybe, what is it? [Goes close to the image to examine it]

H: [Walking over to B] Do you see this over here?

B: [Looking back and nodding] Yeah, but I haven’t given it much attention.

H: What do you think it is?

B: It’s all the same thing.

H: What is?

B: What you’re talking about.

H: But what is it? [Another image appears on the curtain] Oh, look there’s another.

B: It’s the same thing.

H: [Going close to examine the image] It doesn’t look like the other.

B: Appearances mean nothing.

H: And what makes you so sure?

B: [Shows the other an open hand] See my hand?

H: [Nodding] Yeah.

B: [Closes his hand into a fist] Do you see my fist?

H: [Nodding] Yeah.

B: Well, it’s all the same thing.

H: [Shaking his head] I’m not convinced.

B: You’re not looking closely enough.

[H goes and moves his box closer to the curtain and he sits down facing the curtain. J leaves the image to talk to C who is sitting facing the audience]

J: [To C] You should take a look at this.

C: What? Why?

J: Which one?

C: Which what?

J: What or why?

C: [Confused] What?

J: Well, there are these things over there [Pointing at the curtain].

C: OK, so?

J: They may be important?

C: OK [turns around]. Oh wow. [He gets up to take a closer look] What is it?

J: I don’t know, but there is another one over there. [Pointing at the other image]

C: Amazing! [Walks over to the other image and gets in the way of H]

H: Do you mind?

C: Oh sorry. [Walks back over to J] What could these be?

J: I don’t know?

C: How long have they been here?

J: I don’t know. [Pointing at H] She told me about them.

C: Who told her?

J: I don’t know.

C: Maybe they’ve always been here?

J: No, this one came after that one. [Pointing at the two according images]

C: So at one point there was nothing here and then poof, it’s here?

J: [Nodding] That’s exactly it.

C: [Shaking head] It doesn’t make sense.

J: But that’s what happened.

C: How do I know it really happened?

J: [Another image appears, J points at it] Look, there’s another one.

C: How do I know it’s really there?

J: We both see the same thing.

C: But we could both be imagining it.

J: We’re both imagining the same thing? [Walking up to the image and pointing] We’re both imagining this?

C: What’s to say we’re not?

J: [Pointing at I] Let’s ask him. [Both walking up to I, tapping the shoulder and pointing at the image] Do you see that?

I: Why should I tell you?

J: To help us settle a dispute.

I: Over what?

C: Over whether there is something there?

I: [Irritated] Look for yourselves.

J: But we need another person to verify it’s there.

I: So, why did you come and ask me?

J: Can’t you just say if you see it or not?

I: [Crossing his arms and turning away] Not when you have that attitude.

J: But…

C: Let’s ask him. [Pointing at B, they both walk over to him]

J: [To B] Do you see that [Pointing at the image]?

B: Yes… [The first image disappears] and no.

C: [To J] You see I’m right.

J: [To C] Wait. [To B] What do you mean “yes and no”?

B: Yes because I see it there because it is there, and no because I won’t see it there forever.

C: How do you know it won’t be there forever?

B: [Pointing to where the first one was] It will disappear like the first one?

J: Oh my, he’s right. The first one’s gone. [J walks over to the area where the first image was]

C: [Walking over to J] How do we know it was ever there in the first place?

J: You’re going to have to trust yourself. Did you see it before?

C: Yes, but you said it’s gone.

J: Do you still see it?

C: No.

J: So it’s gone.

C: So at one point it was here and then poof, it’s gone?

J: That’s exactly it.

C: It doesn’t make sense.

J: But that’s what happened.

C: Where did it go?

J: It disappeared.

C: No, I mean where did it go?

J: Nowhere.

C: It had to go somewhere.

J: Why?

C: Because it makes sense.

J: Why does it make sense?

C: Because it does. [He walks over to the second image leaving J staring at the blank curtain area of the first area. He gets in the way of H]

H: Do you mind?

C: Oh, sorry. [They both stare at the image] Did you know that the other one disappeared?

H: Yes.

C: Yep, there one moment, gone the next.

H: If you think so.

C: [Turning to H] Well, what do you think happened?

H: When the first one disappeared, another one appeared. So the first one must have turned into the other [Pointing at the newest image].

C: Where did the first one come from?

H: It came from the potential of it’s being.

C: The potential of it’s being?

H: Yes, that’s where the second one came from as well.

C: That doesn’t make sense.

H: Sense is our creation, it doesn’t have to be for that. [Pointing at the curtain]

C: Well it should. [Walks over by B who is sitting cross-legged, looking out toward the audience] So…what’s new?

B: Nothing is new; nothing is old.

C: [Head shaking] Nothing?

B: [Head nodding] Nothing.

C: Funny you say that, because someone thinks that’s where that thing that disappeared went.

B: Well, he’s wrong.

C: I thought so. [Starts to walk away]

B: And he’s right.

C: [Coming back] What? You have to learn to make up your mind.

B: Wrong because nothing is created and nothing is destroyed.

C: And right?

B: Right, because this is all nothing.

C: [Head shaking] Nothing?

B: [Head nodding] Nothing.

C: How do you figure?

B: Nothing and everything are basically two perspectives of the same thing?

C: What do you mean same thing?

B: What is nothing other than a void of everything? What is everything other than the antithesis of nothing?

C: That doesn’t make sense.

B: You’re not looking hard enough.

C: [Looking from B to the curtain and back again] But you’re not even looking at the things.

B: Looking within is just as effective as looking out. Our mind is a model of everything around it.

C: [Looking around] I don’t think it can all fit [measuring his head with his hands and examining the size].

B: That would be the case if you tried.

C: So if I don’t try it would fit?

B: But first you have to forget that you want to.

C: Want to do what?

B: Want.

C: So is that why you’re not facing the things, because you don’t want to?

B: Yes.

C: And that’s why you know so much about them?

B: No. I know nothing.

C: [Head shaking] Nothing?

B: [Head nodding] Nothing.

C: So what is your relationship to these things?

B: I am in harmony with them.

C: How do you know?

B: I don’t, and that’s why I am.

C: OK, if you’re in harmony with them, how did the one that disappeared become this other one that suddenly appeared?

B: They always were time is what is preventing you from seeing that.

C: What about the first one, how did that one come to be?

B: It has always and never been.

C: [Head shaking] That doesn’t make sense.

B: You’re not looking hard enough.

C: My whole mindset has changed for the worse.

B: Change is an illusion.

Write a story about five sentient beings that exist peacefully together. At some point they learn that they are all part of a greater whole through undeniable signs. One being realizes that all the signs mean the same thing, another interprets al the signs individually and distinctly.

The other three vary in relation to the original two and try to combine the original two interpretations causing arguement and bickering over frivilous details. Two of the three try to reconcile the difference of interpretations by including an outside authority controlling the signs. They more easily answer the "why" question by invocing the authority.

The two attempting a reconciliation confer with the original two as to why signs come and go. An original interpreter explains that everything is in flux between the two extremes and that as beings themselves, they are also in flux between creation and destruction, going from one to the other and back again.

The reconciling beings are confused but like the idea of always existing, even though the idea of a cycle of creation and destruction is hard for them to swallow. The original interpreter states that existence imprisons us into our current form, but only in death are we free, but we will inevitably take on this form again unless we grow to understand how to escape the cycle and understanding that path cannot be taught specifically, for each path is different.

When asked how he escapes the cycle, the original interpreter responds that he becomes the whole by acknowledging the whole. The reconcilers are confused and take the lesson as meaning that they should acknowledge the authority. So they go about trying to understand the authority that they invented.

One reconciler thinks that the authority wants to be known otherwise he wouldn't have made himself apparent, so this reconciler goes and tells others his persuation and meets with rejection at every turn. He thinks he's saving these people from their prisons while the others think he has a personal agenda. One of the reconcilers believes that death alone ends existence since their is no way to tell otherwise. The other thinks that everything is controled by the authority so there is no use to ever try to temper your convictions.

This needs more work. To be continued...

Truth is so arbitrary. It is impossible to identify it if it cannot be measured by some objective tool. That means that any abstract concept is impossible to measure. The oddest thing is that concrete concepts become abstract when dissect and examined at the most minute levels.

Love cannot be a truth, even though there are people that say that love is truth. When a person dissects love they find that it is really a compilation of many different emotions, dependencies and conditioning based upon previous mutual concessions. One can hold the position that the combination of the elements of love create a value greater than the sum of the parts. That's debatable.

I am not saying that love isn't responsible for some great things, but some equally terrible. A father, so interested in the betterment of the lives of his children that he becomes the sole deterrent to their happiness. A mother, so dedicated to her family that she is slowly killing herself to maintain harmony within it. A girl willing to stress her resolve by closely examining objects and activities of aversion so that she can better connect with the man that she loves. Each of those examples spawn from love.

But, if those people were to look closer they would find different motives that they label as love. The father, raising the children, he has conditioned himself to control certain factors of his children's lives, and when they are adults, responsible for their own actions he is as unable to let go as they are to take on their responsibility. The mother, being conditioned to enjoy the happiness of her family finds that the lack of that happiness upsets her and she works herself to maintain a semblance of happiness even if it is costing her years of her life. The girl, forcing herself to do what she otherwise wouldn't is pursuing the elation that she experienced when she "fell in love", for she knows that without her concessions, she risks drifting away from the source of her happiness, whether that be a person that brings joy, resources, or prestige. Each have different reasons for their actions and yet each is labeled love.

Enough of that seran wrap that binds people together, there is nothing more tiring and at the same time more invigorating than love...

Recently, I've had to ask myself the question: to what extent does one accept kindness from family? A problem has arisen because some family members haven given past the point that they inflict injury upon themselves. This is partially their own fault because they haven't asked themselves the question: to what extent should one offer kindness?

The rule of thumb in these situations takes the form of the golden rule. Accept kindness tot he degree in which you feel willing to offer under the same circumstances. Offer kindness as much as you would accept from that person under the same circumstances...

This is where the source of the problem is spawned. Some people might be willing to accept a great amount of kindness from others but the others might not be willing to offer such kindness. This causes a lack of balance between the two parties interacting and is only corrected by a true understanding of the other person's thresholds of giving and receiving, which is only possible to learn through personal experience with the other.

You can regard these thresholds as trait vectors.

accept <--O--------------> offer
-The diagram above shows that the giver is far to good to others and should re-evaluate the threshold for either accepting or offering by raising or lowering respectively. Outsiders can help this person by not accepting kindness.

accept <-------------O--> offer
-This diagram shows a user that will accept far more than what he/she offers and should either offer more or accept less. Outsiders can teach this type of person a lesson by simply not offering kindness.

accept <--------O--------> offer
-This diagram represents balanced individuals that follows the golden rule, by accepting as much as they're willing to offer.

Unfortunately those that are willing to help a giver and user by rejecting their offers or pleas will most likely lose something in the relationship and might even lose the relationship itself. This makes it difficult for outsiders to help another. Ideally, a giver or user should look at themselves objectively and determine what corrections they should make to their trait vectors without the need of an outsider imposing a correction "for their own good".

A man is trying to quit smoking. He promises to himself that he will only smoke when the character in his stories does so. He sits down to write a story about a man that breaks up with his girlfriend and ends up spending his Saturday night locked away in his studio apartment drinking tequila and smoking cigarettes while trying to fix the reception on his television. The man is running low on cigarettes and must walk to the convenience store on the corner to buy more. After leaving the lobby of his building he lights a cigarette and decides to take the alley to the store. During the walk a young guy around 18 stops him to ask for a cigarette. The man tells the guy that he only has a single cigarette left and apologizes. The guy pulls out a knife and demands to be given both the man's last cigarette and his wallet. Stunned the man hands over his smokes and his wallet. The guy sees that they're not menthol and crushes the pack and throws it at the man before he runs off. The man is relieved to be safe and opens the crushed pack to repair the broken smoke. After he performs tobacco surgery he gingerly lights up and walks to the convenience store, hoping to be able to use the phone. The store is apparently empty. After calling out for the attendant for some time, he decides to steal a pack of cigarettes and a litter of tequila. He is spotted by the clerk as he leaves, and with his adrenaline pumping he runs back to his apartment. He checks his pockets to see that his keys are missing. He walks back to the alley in search of them, thinking that he dropped them while being robbed. There he finds his wallet, with the little money he had missing and his cards and pictures strewn about. He gathers them up and puts them back in his wallet and then the wallet to his pocket, lights a cigarette and heads back to his apartment without finding the keys. Near the end of the alley he hears a voice asking for a smoke and he breaks off in a run back to his apartment. A policeman sees him running from his squad car and stops him asking if he had been by the convenience store. Winded the man says that he was robbed while walking through the alley. The cop brings the man towards the alley only to see the mugger start running away. The cop tells the man to stay put and runs after the perpetrator. After weighing his options the man decides to go back to his apartment. He retrieves his tequila and climbs the fire escape to his window. Checking the window he finds it locked from within. He lights a cigarette and debates whether to break in through the window, but, inevitably decides against it since the super probably wouldn't fix it for weeks and he can't risk another break in. While sitting with his legs over the side of the landing, drinking tequila and smoking cigarettes he considers his options. Besides the super that rarely responds to help, the only other person that has a key is his ex-girlfriend. At four o'clock in the morning he decides to call her on his cell phone to help him out. He doesn't get a answer so he leaves a drunken message telling her about his night and his current position. Midway through the message he decides that the call was a mistake and hangs up. He takes a drink and lights a smoke and then calls the super to open his door. The super tells him that it may take a couple hours and that he'll call back when he can do it. In the meantime he awaits the super on the fire escape, smoking cigarettes and finishing his tequila. He planned on watching the sunrise, but fell asleep while he was trying to light another smoke. While dreaming he feels the cigarette on his lips being pulled on, and awakes just in time to see his ex-girlfriend tossing it over the side of the fire escape. The window to his apartment is open and they both go in and decide to talk. The super never returned the call.

There is a character that occassionally visits my thoughts when I consider a protagonist for a novel. He is a teenager between 16 and 19. He is reserved, very capable and yet without many accomplishments. Anything he attempts is extraordinary and his peers hold him in disdain for this. Although he excels he loathes the activity once he masters it. He realizes that the world offers no means to achieve lasting happiness. So, like most juveniles, he hates it for that reason.

Some may lack instinct but they compensate for that flaw by working especially hard on their goals. Talent is therefore made up for by stamina and effort. This is how seemingly unintelligent people can rise to positions of importance. This is seldom the case for the most publicized positions for they tend to be reserved for those individuals that posses certain relations to those already in positions of importance. These fortunate fools may not be of blood relation but there is an interest in the party with the power to appoint the other to such high positions. So, success can be divided based upon two distinct, but not necessarily disjoint characteristics: those that know the right thing, and those that know the right person.

She is intelligent, funny, aloof, but most importantly she loves me like no other woman has. She is the human comparison to the most inspiring muses. Her body designed by a master architect, her face more painted by a Rembrandt, her character defined by the immortal poets and her voice carries one further than a grand symphony. In her presence I have no wants. The only consequence of importance pertains only to her. How soothing, how encouraging, and how empowering it is to be inlove and be loved so dearly in return. I am truly blessed and for this I thank you from the bottom of my heart, that heart which is yours.

[Greatness] will come when theory becomes instinct. You must abandon all doubt and give in to the current.

---

I have been exploited by my own father against my brother. I do not wish to explain more.

---

Salinger is like steak, you've got to savor every morsel.

Missy

---

The Squalid Student: One neglected, poverty stricken youth; learning without direction, ridiculed without correction.

I fear that I will either implode or explode. The pressure is too high, the temperature too hot and the space to confining. This is why so many people disregard the benefits of a long-term relationship; they cease being considered in a sensual regard and become solely regarded as a resource (bread winner, valet, maid, therapist or parent).

Minding the detriments of time I know that this vigor won't last forever, so why do I choose to squander this gift? Because you're in love stupid! But why does she get SO defensive if I ever even remotely try to broach this subject? Because she feels criticized and defends herself and being a delicate subject its hard to know how to react... I just can't talk to her about it.

True I may come across somewhat blunt and tactless, but that is because I want to let her know she can be honest about the topic. Unfortunately, whenever I bring it up I'm not be delicate enough to keep the conversation from getting heated. She, on the other hand, won't even address it as an issue.

The frequency is not fitting for a person with my drive. It wasn't always this way. The first six months were great, I was satisfied and grateful, but since then the rate has continually dropped, with a few rare good weeks.

When we began the relationship I made it clear to her about my appetite, I didn't try to in any way mislead her to believe that I would be content without release. I even warned her that I can be quite miserable if left without it. I also confessed that I abhorred women that would use intimacy as a means to ensnare a man, and then gradually lessen that which helped them lure the men. I had experience with women like that and felt it dishonest and malicious.

She insists that this deterioration is beyond her control and that it will get better later on when conditions improve, but it just keeps getting worse no matter what happens.

Is it that I no longer have that newness value? Did we start off too hot whereas all we could do was cool down? Will we ever be able to get back to how things were? All these questions might never be answered.

It seems odd to me that education hasn't improved with time. I've looked at my father's old textbooks and even though the diagrams, pictures and aesthetic appeal has greatly improved the content is basically the same.

The education system is required to cover a broad range of topics: math, physics, chemistry, biology, history, english, etc... All these topics are served via taxtbook and sometimes workbook, to students. Does this prepare them for a life without a textbook to explain every issue with exact precision?

Students should be tought how to question and search for answers. The current system does not encourage doubt, which is the primary factor in questioning. Sure there is a chapter in most science books about the scientific method, but the doubt continues no further. We do predetermined experiments, follow formulas, commit to a specific reresentation of the past, and adhere to a structure that doesn't accept deviation.

Schools don't stress the student's ability to search outside of textbooks and the dewey decimal system. Are students encouraged to search outside of the guidelines imposed by the system? Teach them how to search both in outside resources and within themselves, and you provide them with a tool that could propell them in any direction they choose. The knowledge they acquire on their own could spark interests not otherwise spawned from the formal education. Currently, the education system is based upon giving students fish in the form of textbooks, but they should refocus their efforts to teaching the students how to fish.

Today, in my Systems Development III class, I interviewed a senior official in the department of labor for the great lakes. I was able to play a consultant with a respectable authority figure instead of being a consultant to shady businessmen.

This interview consisted of a series of questions developed to get a better understanding of the IT problems that are encountered at the DOL. I learned that even with the Patriot Act and the government agencies' ability to share data more freely and without the need of passing through as much red tape, that these agencies haven't a clue as to how to go about accomplishing this task.

This official informed me that most development contracts that went to creating their database management system went to companies that don't exist anymore. A main frustration for him was that the development time exceeds the lifespan of the certain technology. He told me of several projects that, once completed, were never used because the technology was antiquated and out of date by the time the new system was to go live. He said that his department still works on the original mainframe system, that has quite limited functionality.

Another problem he faces with system development was that the contractors, whom most are awarded their work without bidding and through association with a person of influence, tend to receive their money without furnishing the finished product. Describing one instance, he said that for 7 years a company kept requesting more and more money to finish a project that was supposed to take 3 years and he has yet to see the finished product.

There have been successful projects that delivered results, but this official said that often the interface to these systems are so technical and cryptic that the people in his department opt to continue working with the old system. It reminds me of a child that begs his parents for a guitar, promising that they'd grow up to become rock stars, but, instead the guitar sits in a closet only to gather dust upon its enameled birchwood.

If I ever end up writing a book, I must make certain that the cover is covered. It must be flashy and flamboyant, chic and catchy, titillating and tasteful, and above all it must capture the potential reader's attention, so that they will grab it off the shelf without reading the inside cover, back of the book, introduction, first page or even the last page, but rather mindlessly bring it to the register, purchase it along with a holographic bookmark, bring it home, place it on a coffee table, where it will sit, untouched, for four to six weeks after which it would be transferred to the book case, milk crate and then put on sale at a garage sale for a quarter where it would be bought by a little old lady for a dime, that will most likely die before she ever gets the chance to read it.

In the dead of sleep I was awakened by the sound of shattering glass. Startled I looked to the windows relieved to find them all intact. Then I noticed that the glass of ice water on the bedside table was gone. I must have shifted the position of my head and the pillow brushed against the glass, sending it crashing below on the hardwood floor. Of course, at that time, being sleepy and disoriented, I didn't connect those events together and simply rose to a sitting position and turned on the light.

I was about to rise to my feet when I noticed the shards of glass below my feet. The base of the glass held together and with it shards that formed jagged teeth. And that menacing fragment just chanced to land bottom down, several feet away from the bedside table and the other shards, and right below where my right heel would have landed if I were to have gotten up.

If I had arisen without looking, those teeth would've lodged themselves in my heel, no doubt severing my Achilles heel, providing me with a permanent limp, leading to back problems and a life of growing pain and suffering... All because of chance. Chance led me to place the glass too close to the bed. Chance was responsible for my moving the pillow in my sleep. Chance sent the glass plunging to the floor. Chance had the glass hit a sensitive point and shatter. Chance allowed the cooling process when forming the glass to create a weakness throughout the glass in the shape of teeth. Chance let the base of the glass avoid breaking. Chance sent that lethal shard several feet from the rest so that it would rest under foot. Chance granted the glass permission to land with the teeth raised to greet my foot. Chance was out for my blood.

Science dictates that nothing happens without an observer. So all those chances that accumulated into an assault on my well being, since they weren't observed by me, then I have to blame them on the higher power. That eye behind the eye allowed for that sequence of events to occur.

But I didn't let fate fuck me. An instant before I was to place my foot on the floor I looked below with drowsy eyes to witness destiny's pitfall, and stopped just in time. I actually felt the highest tooth of the shard brush against the underside of my foot. Did I subconsciously take all those possibilities into account the moment before? Did my looking below actually solidify all those events in the past that led to this potentially tragic situation? Or was I lucky that fate didn't get to injure me?

I was immediately seething over this circumstance. I blamed fate. I blamed God. I blamed the Universe. I blamed every bit of randomness that led my path towards that moment. My avoided injury was not due to a lack of faith, it was prevented by doubt and disbelief. It was pessimism that saved me. By consciously being prepared for the worse I increase the chances of experiencing the better.

Without a doubt, I know that the moment that I slip up and take my eye off of fate, that cursed nemesis of mine will take the opportunity to cripple me. By having faith in the fortune of chance I could end up getting out of bed and step of a broken glass severing tendons and arteries, ensuring a permanent limp reminding me forever of my folly of trusting fate. Fuck fate!

I'm pathetic. My brain is so reliant on sleep to function that its amazing I can accomplish anything without having to take a nap midway through. There once was a monk, I think from India, that loathed sleep to such an extreme that he voluntarily cut off his own eyelids to keep himself awake. Now I don't know if he was able to see after his eyes shriveled up into white little raisins, maybe he invented an ancient form of Visine and kept them moist, but I envy his decisiveness regarding the sleep/consciousness conflict. Why can't I be like that monk? What faculty do I lack that binds me to that unproductive activity? Well, at least I dream...

---

Is there any reason to fight? There are so many problems that could be fixed, but there is hardly a way that an individual can change a system so broad and powerful. Its as though you need a system that compensates in speed to influence the current system that has such momentum. Gravity! You little shit! Always making it harder on the little guy. Go suck on a hadron!

---

Crosses of crimson give way to green gallows, and yet I will forever remain blue.

He always appeared to others as ungroomed, for he never grew accustomed to the symbiotic relationship with his hair. His hair never lessened its burden upon him either. Entire mornings were spent using various hair products to tame a lock that refused to obey. Once he was forced to passionately use scissors to quell a revolt, followed by martial law under a restrictive baseball cap.

---

Every romantic relationship begins as a great personal experiment. Happiness comes when the results validate the theory that loves exists.

---

I often appreciate love for its justifications...

• Love is a pardonable insanity
• Forgive him sir, he suffers from love
• It is a shame, the boy had such promise, but he gave in to the childish belief in love
• His only excuse is that he loves
• Love led him astray
• Another tragic case of love
• Love squanders and abandons all goals held previously
• Why don't you go out and work? I'm in love
• Eat something. I'm love sick
• Say Something. I'm lovestruck
• Leave her. I'm love locked
• Why do you put up with it? Its tough love
• Could you please explain to the court why you climbed the bell tower? Because of love...

Love drives one to extremes and the onlookers to pity.

---

Pure evil personified... That would be the devil, not being bound by any laws, not answering to anybody, deciding his own future, defining his own morals, forging his own trail, not honoring tradition, doubting every experience... What's wrong with the devil?

---

Pure love personified... Would that be God? There would be no waste, everything would matter, nothing would be abused, no crime and no need for forgiveness, pefectio always improving, every path would be the right path, nothing uncertain, no reason for faith... Couldn't evil fit right into love?

LIFE THEME: The quest for perpetual ORIGINALITY

Most writes state that their prime writing time is during the morning and afternoon. For me its the night. I hope that doesn't mean that this will never be a career and that it will always remain a hobby. I could write during the day but, unfortunately, I already have a career in the way.

But I program - that's a form of writing - telling a computer what to process instead of prompting a reader to imagine a situation or concept. I write the smallest discrete commands, assignments, storing, retrieval, processing, keywords, equations, functions, structures, methods, classes, subroutines, macros, scripts, tying them all together into one cohesive application optimized for a specific platform to accomplish a specific task.

I'll admit that I don't put as much thought into my coding as T.S. Eliot did into his pages of poetry, but my code has a tangible benefit, it keeps people employed and keeps the company functioning and making money. Sure the comments in the source code may be witty, but I'm the only one to see them. So I guess I'm trying to amuse myself.

My programs may lack the magic of Four Quartets or A Catcher in the Rye, but I still have style in my code, whether it be a spaghetti-digressing quality or concise and efficient, that code has style... By god, I better have some style...