"the power of humility" The Last Lecture - Randy Paush

new, clean, green trees. skyscrapers. churches.
against mud, silt, chapati-s, paneer tikka masala, poverty, slums, paranthas,

is it? it is.

I am the number one fan of windmills.
Lying in the lawn, yawning.

A mouse skitters across a computer, searching frantically for cheese, the tasty, delicious, savory cheddar, full, monterrey jack, melting mozzarella, that is the
mozilla firefox icon.

Texas Instruments - T.I. - 84 Calculator - King of the Dirty South - leaves no "Paper Trail", but sure does make one; either way, you can have "whatever you like"

the brand name - converse; for shoes and other gear.

as in "to converse" as in to speak with, have a conversation with.
or converse as in "the converse of", essentially the opposite of.
or the "con" of "verse" - the antithesis of poetry.




"where we make the english accent, the line above the letter e"

Small Arms

From 2002 to 2007, 13129 malformed children have been born in Iraq.

WORD up. domination

been a while - back to blogging.

http://doihaveswineflu.org/

so we got these plastic finger puppets today before the ap english exam. and what i thought about (ive thought about this recently about random mass produced products) is how there is some guy in some place in the U.S. whose job it is to make these finger puppets to perfection. like specify the machines, set the tools, the imprintings, analyze the costs, market, all that good stuff - for plastic finger puppets.

there is a lot of stage crew behind the performance. and is there evena reward

do you ever think of what you appear to be? no, not to other people, not to your friends, not to your teachers, parents, etc. but to yourself?

for example, imagine if you were a different person. and you somehow met "yourself" walking down the street. what would you think? what would you say to yourself? would you say - what a loser? fuck you? would you love yourself? hate yourself?

(this isnt an exercise the measure of security you feel with yourself)

but, its also true that it may be impossible to even think of being "someone else"...because the only conception of the self is what we have - ourself. its utterly illogical, impossible- physically, mentally, intellectually, emotionally - to even picture yourself as something or someone else - you truly dont know anything apart from the self. and if you dont know yourself, then it maybe just be even more impossible...

ever think of the world as one single organism.

as in, the earth itself is one living being, like a beetle, amoeba, or human. it's pulse, its heartbeat, is found in it's inner-most core, and it breathes, functions, and survives as one entity. all that we see - volcanoes, buildings, forests, are simply little marks on the earth's skin - like striations on the shell of a beetle or a mole or birthmark. we, as humans, are tiny specks of "dust" on earth's skin. everything that we see is simply the shell - underneath is where life exists. in the "core" or "mantle" is the true substance of earth, the one organism. who knows if it has a purpose? who knows what it eats, how it survives? does it sleep? does it have cravings for ice-cream?

its funny, people measure themselves only in relation to others. for example, you can't say "im good at basketball" without mentally referencing a pre-conceived person that you are so-called "better than". You can't be just "good" - you have to be better than the imaginative "Person B". it's simply a race - you must be better, stronger, faster, more athletic, better at reading, better at memorizing definitions. you try to be come "something". individual DIFFERENCES are all that we see.

"we only see others as separate from ourselves in the ways in which they are separate. and one of the dramatic characteristics of experience is being with another person and suddenly seeing the ways in which they are like you, and experiencing the fact - that which is essence in you and which is essence in me is indeed one. the understanding that there is no other" - Richard Alpert

why do people feel the need to raise their voices? to yell? to shout? is it so that others can hear them?
or so that they can hear their own voices? to reassure themselves that they still have it? that it hasnt been submerged within the depths of their visceral organs?


also, check this out. it is seriously messed up.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HvivsY6K0U&feature=PlayList&p=0C29E5A25CDB4DCF&index=0&playnext=1

What?

today i played some tennis. doubles. sliding, shapeshifting. up, back, right, left, diagonal, circle. smash, forehand, backhand, volley. serve. serve. fault. hole in the net.

two cocky insecure men as opponents - can't fault them though. let. hole in the net. a partner with the deepest voice ever. baritone. a new grip. white, foamy, sticky. a chill, lingering. a wind, from the back. deuce. ad in. deuce. ad out. 15 love. deuce. time. "allow yourself some margin for error" "1 to 2 feet over the net". double fault. double fault. belly up, stranded. doubles alley. winner. ace. winner. volley. smash. 2nd serve. 1st serve. out. out. out. match point. MATCH

a fire hydrant. painted a deep, scarlet red, paint peeling off. the contours, stretching from top to bottom, in perfect geometric alignment. the screws, brown, rusted. sitting, like a sentinel, on guard, above the plane of the street. a cold metal.

Things I will take away from playing in the All-State Band at the 2009 All-State Festival in Boston, MA:

-"The eyes are the mirrors to the soul." - Robert W. Smith, Conductor

The kids, band, and conductor were all absolutely phenomenal, fantastic, amazing. Unreal, it was, playing under one of the most, actually, probably the most learned, prolific, and intelligent person I have ever encountered, sitting next to the next headliners of the music world.

The players in the band have a true sense of music - one of my roommates had perfect pitch. though some were a little crazy, it was something else to see over 100 people come together to create something new.

Standing amid smiles, a standing ovation, a feeling of euphoria in the grandeur that is the renowned Boston Symphony Hall. A true once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Yet, one cant help feel a little hollow emptiness. These people, I'll never see most of them, ever again. The little waves that are our lives have converged to this one point, but from now, they will most likely ripple outward, increasingly away. These musicians, many will become full-flegded music people - educators, directors, professionals. Yet, they'll still go away, into the unknown, into obscurity. You want to keep getting to know them, even the ones that are a tad annoying, but it ends.

its weird, satisfying but unsatisfying, happy but sad, you want the rehearsals to be over but want to keep playing. a mix of everything. never know

the other thing ill take away, is a new sense of tolerance. things can be slightly annoying, but who am i to hate

color is "created" through the absorption of reflected light in photoreceptor cells in the eyes. thus, it follows that without these cells, color would not exist. would the world be fundamentally different without color? would we be able to tell the difference between dirt and snow, just by looking at it? will all people look like one homogenized race? will black paper look like white paper? will color be equal to the absence of color?


























eyes closed, blotches of color appear within the black expanse. especially, when facing a light source. dive in

All in a day's work.

Today is monday. Monday is a day. How is day defined? Is it a tangible thing? Is it a being in and of itself? What is one day? What is one hour? What is one minute? What is one second? What is one millisecond? What is one microsecond? What is one decade? What is one century? What is one millenium? What is one light year? What is one?

A blue canvas wrapped tightly