I was working on something deeply profound and religious, but got bored, so I did this. Enjoy

She seems to have no fat on her body at all save for two parts, in her legs and ass, though only just enough to eliminate only the minor muscle striations of the perfectly toned body below, and in her cheeks which are as marvelously pink as the shirt that drapes her perfectly proportioned shoulders clinging effortlessly to the two tantalizingly supple breasts accenting the angelically firm stomach underneath. Her eyes, deep brown, show simultaneously the most cushioning softness capturing your heart, and the most piercing intensity locking dead to your lusting thoughts, yet refusing to care. Are matched equally in hue by her hair, pulled back to show the perfect symmetry of her ears, bringing you back down to her cheeks where the fat spreads flawlessly, forming the background for the most amazing part yet, her lips. Surrounding only the slightest portion of her top row of her teeth they capture entirely the joy she is overcome with to simply see you. They glisten in the light. The glistening catches your gaze, it moves almost rhythmically with the rocking of the ceiling fan above you. A creak from the fan averts your attention upward for a mere nanosecond, an amount of time in which your eyes don’t move, yet your mind comes to a thousand realizations at once and you are crippled by the newly present truth that this wonderful creature is not looking at you, but instead at her lover, whom she pictures in her thoughts as she stares stunningly into the digital camera she used to immortalize this image eight months ago. You do all you can to keep the tears welled up inside, but as they come through your gut falls, your eyes drop into nothingness, and your mind wonders around your miserable, down-trodden, pitiful excuse of a life and the reasoning behind your very presence. Nothing feels happier now then the thought of warming your gun while your finger toys the trigger pining nothing more than to end your pathetic existence, plummeting you back into nothing. At least in nothing you won’t have to deal with the pain of knowing there is no one else to share even your best of moments with. At least in nothing you can’t be faced with the harsh reality that your existence remains a mystery to the world. At least in nothing you can’t feel this pain. The barrel feels ice cold against your skin, you can’t tell if it’s the temperature, or the pressure of the moment weighing in on the situation, but regardless it pushes you further. As your finger caresses the trigger you take one final glimpse at the picture on your computer screen, though now all you see is the reflection of the perverted wretch you are. The click of the barrel never reaches your ears. Sound is vacuumed out. Enough of your Brain remains attached to its stem instead of the wall to take one final sweeping glimpse of your room, everything seems to be in order, it’s 3AM. You smile.

I think I am going to join a Buddhist Monastery somewhere in China.

The New Social Revolution

Lately I have been on sort of an introspective marijuana binge (if such a thing is possible), and have been writing mostly about myself. However, as the beginning of the new semester draws near I have begun my descent back into reality and have started to pick up on the outside world again. Anyway, to my post…

1968 sparked a revolution around the world. As people were coming down from the Summer of Love they took with them a communal brotherhood and general good will. As they came back into the “real” world they began to question why it was that those feelings they had felt over the summer weren’t being felt now. Slowly they realized that there were serious problems in the world. They saw how truly unfair the America was. They saw discrimination everywhere, not just in the south, but in every major city around America. They also saw their chance at a socially equal world. As they began to band together change became a more realistic probability. The youth started to organize and fight for change. Not just in America, but in France, England, Czechoslovakia, even Mexico as well. All over the world universal social equality and a general sense of community began to grow in the minds of the youth. In Europe universal healthcare began to become commonplace. The French youth reinvigorated the socialist party, the Czechs won more rights for farmers, and the American youth banded with the blacks to fight for civil rights as well as social change. However, change did not come easy in America. The blacks had been fighting for years for their essential civil liberties, and 1968 would prove to be a hard year for both the blacks and the youth. The loss of both Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy in the same year put a swift end to social change in America. Although the civil rights movement won its fight, the youth movement never recovered, and the rage set in. As students saw their peaceful protests failing they began to become increasingly violent. As the violence escalated the hope of the youth in ’68 became the anger in ’69 and apathy of the youth in the 70’s and 80’s, and gradually universal social equality faded away.

Today we are still faced with the same problems we faced in the 60’s. We still have yet to receive universal healthcare, progressive taxes, or free collegiate education. All of which are commonplace in many European countries. Why is it that everywhere else in the world these changes have been in place for years yet hear at home we have yet to pass anything at all similar? The answer is simple. We are still a country driven by the wealthy. Who else could logically oppose these types of social reform? All help both the middle and lower economic classes, which make up the majority of the population, but the change has yet to happen. Why are the poor not voting in large numbers? It’s really quite simple. The lower economic classes don’t care. Not because they don’t want a better life, but because they don’t realize the impact they could have. They don’t give a damn about politics because no politician cares about them. They have to fight so hard every day just to get by and survive that universal social equality means absolutely nothing to them. The lower economic strata of America could, if united, take over politics and bring about any change they wanted. They could better the lives of majority of America, while giving no inconvenience to the minority. However, they are plagued by poverty and crime rates so severe that simply surviving is, on a day to day basis is amazing. The lower class is not the only group who is not fighting for a social change from which they could benefit. While the middle class sits around and bickers over propagated problems, the rich maintain their stranglehold on American politics. Issues such as Gay Marriage are only ideas made up to divert attention away from the injustices being committed on a daily basis. Under the separation of church and state, a church has the right to refuse anyone any church service on any grounds they see fit; however they are not granted the right to interfere in a civil union or marriage performed by a government official. (Now that that issue has been completely resolved in one sentence let us return to what is important.) Universal healthcare, progressive tax rates, and free collegiate education would drastically improve the lives of the middle class without much a change to their daily lives.

America was once the land of opportunity. Now it is only a place where the rich get richer and the poor get babies. For America to truly be the land of opportunity again all of its citizens must have an equal chance at that opportunity. The poor need it the most. Their life is the hardest, yet they are treated the worst. People act like the poor have brought all of their problems upon themselves, by not fighting for their share of the American Dream. But, of all of the people who make this argument, which has ever had to live in South LA, the Bronx, or even the 3^rd Ward of Houston? Kids don’t join gangs because they want to. People don’t apply for Welfare because they want to. And they sure as hell don’t commit crimes because they want to. They do it because they have to; because it is the only life they know. Sure there are success stories like Homeless to Harvard, but the number of people stuck in the life they are born into far outnumber the amount of people who make it out, and a few success stories is by no means a reason to think that everyone can do it. The fact is, if you are born into an inner city ghetto you have far too much going against you to pursue the American Dream. All the while, the middle class sits around debating Gay Marriage, or whatever else is popular like it is going to affect the fate of the universe, completely forgetting that the have to scratch and claw for every single thing they have as the rich just breeze through life. The rich may have worked hard to get rich, but that does not allow them to force the bulk of America’s taxes on the rest of us. In his The Wealth of Nations, Adam Smith described his view of the right tax system.

The necessaries of life occasion the great expense of the poor. They find it difficult to get food, and the greater part of their little revenue is spent in getting it. The luxuries and vanities of life occasion the principal expense of the rich, and a magnificent house embellishes and sets off to the best advantage all the other luxuries and vanities which they possess. A tax upon house-rents, therefore, would in general fall heaviest upon the rich; and in this sort of inequality there would not, perhaps, be anything very unreasonable. It is not very unreasonable that the rich should contribute to the public expense, not only in proportion to their revenue, but something more than in that proportion.

If America truly is the land of opportunity, why is it so wrong that all of her people be granted a fair chance at that opportunity? The wealthy can afford it, the poor need it, and the middle class can most definitely use it. So why do we not have it? Think about where you fit among the economic classes that make up America, and then consider your stances on universal healthcare, our tax system, and state funded collegiate education. If your views don’t match your income ask yourself why. And most definitely let me know.

Don't Really Have a Title for This

I love movies. I love all movies. I love being temporally transported to an entirely new world in which I can experience both the highest highs of joy and the deepest bowels of depression. In a mere two hours I go through more emotions than I have previously felt in my life. There is no such thing as a bad movie. Even cheap “slasher” flicks like House of Wax, bestow upon me a special sadistic pleasantry as I watch Paris Hilton die. However, out of all the movies I have seen there are a select few that I will venture out and sophomorically call the best. I label them as such not for their cinematography or use of color or special effects. I keep this group of movies separate from all of the others I have seen because it is from these movies that I learn something about myself. Whether it is from the plot or the characters, I leave each movie deep in an introspective frenzy of thought. The movies are (in no particular order):

The Libertine

Saved!

The Basketball Diaries

Good Will Hunting

Each one of these movies leaves me speechless each time I see them. However, most recent in my mind is Good Will Hunting and is my inspiration for writing this.

There is a line in the movie that made me stop and really think. The line is given by the psychologist Sean (Robin Williams), and is, “You don’t know about real loss, because it only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself.” I love this movie because I am Will, just not a genius. I can’t open up. I have kept everyone I know at an arms length my entire life. I don’t know what it means to be vulnerable. I can let people love me, I just can’t love back. I don’t know how, and instead of just diving into a relationship head first I have always just stood back and done what I thought I was supposed to do to make whichever girl I was dating at the time love me. Then once I get to the critical point at which I have to actually give something I just pick apart whoever she is until I go back to my safe little single mode. I know why I do it, because when I meet a girl that intrigues me I focus so heavily on what captivates me that I start to think she is perfect. I have done it with every girl that has ever held the minutest piece of my imagination. Most of the time I usually just become “friends” with the girl and eventually once I have enough evidence against her perfection I realize how much of a dumb ass I am and stop any further pursuit of a relationship, and openly greet a new friend. However in the time between arousing my intrigue and then shattering it all at once I severely manipulate my exposure to her and hers to me. Because just for that short time she really is perfect to me, and I can fantasize about what a relationship would be like with her. Once as pathetic as it was, I would not be around this girl I new, LeeAnn , without my headphones in because she was so perfect in my head that the slightest utterance of sound from her mouth would completely ruin the idea I had about what she was like, and who she was. It’s pathetic I know, but I really don’t know how to honestly open up to someone, and wish I had the chance to go back into some of my previous relationships and actually do so just to see what could have happened. I’ve always envied people who find love, and wish I could, but I just do not have the slightest fucking idea on how to open up at all. I guess the only thing that I can do is just sit around and wait until I find someone that just makes me happy. I need to find someone I can talk to and really just let loose with. Someone I can be stupid with; and when I find her, well I really don’t know what to do, I gather that it is suppose to just kind of come. I guess the key is to not look for perfection too hard or at least not nit-pick the imperfections. But then again I really don’t know at all, and the vast majority of this is just kind of coming out of my ass.

A Melancholic Recurrence

In a crowded lobby after a play it hits you again, the laughter. Immediately you attempt to suppress it for fear of the unwanted attention it will bring. You stopper it, and as sudden as it came, it leaves. Slowly, the relief felt at its departure is replaced by the silent wondering as to the cause of its arrival. Then as quickly as the peak of the elation arose, the depths of the depression hit. Panic strikes. Your heart races. The room spins. The pulsations pounding your ears caused by the conversations of the surrounding people split your eardrum like the crescendo of a Kodo Drummer concert, sending you into a dizzy bleeding frenzy. You feel ready t0 collapse as every thought entering your mind is not only horrific, but so terrifyingly true. You will never find love; and everything you could ever hope to accomplish in life will be meaningless and forgotten ten years after your death. You will be forgotten. No one cares about you. They couldn’t possibly care, they don’t even know you.

As the depression descends and the centripetal velocity of the room reaches its high point the one thought reverberating in your skull is “Why?”. Why are you here? Why is it just you reacting to existence this way? Or are other people feeling what you feel, thinking what you think; and if so how can they possibly cope? Is this a problem with all human existence? It doesn’t seem likely. No one else in the room seems to be having any problems. In fact they rather seem to be enjoying themselves. Why is it that you are having this breakdown? Could it be that the other people have just adapted to this constant depression known as existence?

As the depression reaches depths previously uncharted it culminates into one single driving thought. It’s just you. They don’t feel it. In fact they don’t have a problem at all. They even seem to be happy, truly happy. An emotion that you cannot even remember feeling. You flirt with suicide but not dangerously. You don’t want to die. Not yet. You want to find this supreme joy that everyone else so enjoys. Suicide can’t take you there, but something else can. You don’t know what it is yet, but you know it is out there, somewhere; and hopefully you will find it someday. And just like that you realize that depression not only engulfs your entire life, consuming everything, pushing you towards suicide, but also keeps you alive and gives you a reason to keep living. If you could just find that happiness, just hold out one more day and you might find it tomorrow. Just one more day, its not that long. Just one more day…one more day…happiness is out there...somewhere...just one more day

A Melancholic Revelation

Imagine a feeling of elation that is so powerful you burst out in recalcitrant laughter. You could be watching a deer jerk and moan out its last painful breaths and just smile. You can’t contain it. It just comes at you for no reason, and leaves as mysteriously as it came. It doesn’t feel sadistic or odd, but healthy. As the laughter peaks a previously latent feeling begins to emerge. Within seconds of it hitting the peak the realization that you are empty takes over and dominates your thoughts. There is nothing going on inside. No joy, no sadness, no anger, no fear. You are at the plateau of the purest depression imaginable. Just sitting there, not giving a rat’s ass about anything. In this vast storm of dismay there is only one beacon of light standing tall, and projecting the truth into your miserable, gloom-ridden excuse of a life. If you would just take a revolver and paint the wall with your brains you would never have to feel this again. All of the previous thoughts and assumptions you had about suicide and those who do it go fly out the window. All you can think about is ending this horrible feeling that has led an emotional coup d’etat on your psyche. You have no soul. All you can do is just sit there; and the longer you do the more you realize that everything you are thinking about how pointless life is is really true. All of your worries are gone. You want to cry, but you can’t, you just sit there, laughing. And all of a sudden suicide begins to really make sense. Not even as a means to end the pain. It just feels right. The longer and longer you sit there the more and more it becomes logical. Just kill yourself, end it now, because life has no point. You are not here to serve a god. There is no driving purpose of life. Going to school, and getting a job won’t make you happy. All the drugs in the world wouldn’t take you away from this. There is only one escape. But you couldn’t kill yourself if you wanted to. You can’t stop fucking laughing.

My Girl

I want a girl. I want a girl that I can love. That I can fall for every single time I look at her. A girl that no matter what she says or does I will never think anything less of her; A girl who knocks me off of my feet by just looking at me. I want to love her so bad that it hurts. That it kills me every time she has to go away. I want to love her so bad that I would do anything for her. God I know that sounds so fucking cheesy, but when I think of it whenever I have thought about wanting a girl this is what I wanted. No girl has ever really made me feel this way. Not Jaimie, not Lenora. It’s sad. I care about both of them, and did while we were and are going out. I used to think that I just loved differently. But now I know. I don’t love differently at all. It’s just all of the girls I meet and start to date don’t live up to my standards. I know it sounds selfish, but shouldn’t I be entitled to everything that everyone else claims to feel? Why shouldn’t I? I hear all these people talk about the love they’re in and it pisses me off. I used to be so damn bitter. I never knew why. Now I know. I want to experience what I see in the movies. I want to meet a girl that is amazing. That I would introduce to my parents with pride. I want to love her for my whole life. I want to look into her eyes and know that she is everything I could ever want; and I want her to see the same in my eyes. I want to grow old with her; I don’t care if it comes easy or hard, if we are dirt poor, or filthy rich, as long as our love is true. That is all I care about. The rest of life won’t matter as long as I have her. This is why I love epic movies so much. Epic movies have epic love stories. Achilles’ and Briseis; Tristan and Isolde; Rick and Ilsa; Fuck, Harry and Ginny. It doesn't matter at all. Every great movie has a great love story. And every time I see one I melt. No, that’s not gay. I fucking go crazy when I see love like that. I want it so bad. I want to be able to love someone as fiercely, passionately, and insanely as these characters. I want her to be my equal in every way. I don’t want to look up to her nor do I want her to be anywhere near below me. I want her to be someone that I am crazy for; and who is crazy for me. I want her to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but brilliantly intelligent, horrendously funny, and amazingly real. I want a girl that whenever I see her I get butterflies in my stomach, goose bumps on my skin, and pains in my heart. I don’t know what else to say, but please God, whoever or whatever you are, if you even give a damn about me please help me find her.