Age: 17 years 6 months 19 days
I’ve been avoiding writing this all day because when I do I remember how I haven’t started my movie. I feel so un-creative. I don’t like the poems I write, and I can’t think of a good movie. I need to bust my butt to get this done and I don’t have time.
But I talked to redacted today. I called them. I usually wouldn’t do that, but I had to find out what day they were free for the TEC Wheat party. It was good talking to them. It put them in reality again too. They’re not perfect for me, though I want them to be. Well, they might be perfect for me (possibly) but I should never be so nervous that I can’t talk to them. Our friendship isn’t like that. If we were to date I would want it to be like us being friends. I don’t see how anything would be different. I won’t rush into anything, ever.
My heart pines for
what the future holds.
I remain plugged –
Building the wall
higher and higher
So as to hold
this raging river.
I want to be
freed, but only by the
one in my dream.
He holds the
Chisel and hammer
to melt and sculpt this
preserved token.
Love,
Where do you
Lie?!
Won’t you come
Quickly before
The days are spent?
I trust you
To find me, and
Ever I wait,
Cautiously pining
In the dark.
My favorite show is on! (MythBusters). This show is great, the guys are funny, and you learn things you may or may not have wanted to know. I like supporting shows like this. Whenever it’s on I watch it. Not really, but kind of.
Wednesday February 25th Mel Gibson’s Passion comes to theaters. That’s one week from tomorrow. I will go. I will get other people to go with me. I’ll tell you all about it. It looks good, maybe not perfect, but it looks very good. It’s about Jesus and I’m glad that he has the courage to actually talk about it.
God, I love poems that call attention to meaninglessness. I love it when they give hope but then tear it away with ignorance. I love dismal, dreary, heartbreaking, miserable. My favorite book of the Bible, Ecclesiastes, is all about meaninglessness. I believe that life has meaning. But I like poems that doubt. I love poems that take an evolutionary viewpoint. I like poems that don’t give any hope because they seem more real to me. I like it when happy little worlds get crushed. I like miserable states and that is very weird because I am not a depressed, miserable person. Yes, I have a dark side but I am generally happy and appreciate life (I think). I don’t write about that much. I usually like to complain. But you have no idea the joy I get from little things. I smile at someone pulling back their car so I didn’t have to run around then, the reflections in the water, fresh air, finding a rhythm and running, talking on the phone, getting an email, getting the courage to say “hi”, and making new friends. I love reading poetry for English. I love writing my thoughts in this journal. I love my odd choice of clothes and I love expressing myself with them. I love that I am not conventional. I love that I love film and philosophy. I love that I am a self-motivated hard worker. I love who I am and take pride in it. I really see myself as maturing and becoming a whole complete person. I am a great, huge package that’s wonderful, I just have to find a person who is also wonderful for this odd shaped package. I will someday, and until then, I’ll dream and appreciate the crushes I get, the feeling I experience, and the love I hope to share.
Now I want to write this poem down in here that got me to write all of this.
Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold
The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast, the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
///
Dualistic approach v. (Materialistic) monistic view of humans
- deterministic
How does the Mind / Soul interact with the body if they are different things?
I hate determinism. Why are human dualistic beans and why is it that there is no way in hell (or it is hell!) that we live in a deterministic world?
“ Life’s too short to be in a hurry”
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