My Children

I sit in the grass looking up the sky. Clouds pass as a breeze blows. To almost all, the scene seems perfect. Yet I am unhappy. How could I take pleasure in such perfection whilst immeasurable atrocities take place in areas of the world most people don't know exist. My mind is constantly plagued with the struggles of those helpless in the world. Diseased and starving in a war torn land. And we complain about the weather. Why can't I help them? Why can't I at least find a way I would be able to help? Children screaming out at me, yelling my name in panic as they reach out towards me. I try to bridge the gorge between us but it is too vast. No matter how hard I try I am never able to save them. All I wanted to do was help people. They cry my name 'David!' with tears streaming down their cheeks. If I do not save them they will certainly die. Vultures circle over them biding their time. I can do nothing but watch and cry. I talk to them, but words do them little good. Hundreds perish, each face seared into the back of my skull. Our culture is so needless its shameful. Why can't more people see them? Why can't more people here the cries of my children?

My (seemingly) forgotten friends

I'm sorry for what has happened between us. I didn't want it to be like this. I guess I've just changed. Please never think that I stopped caring. I still remember you, I someones wonder if you remember me. I want to talk to you, but sometimes its hard. I know that's a weak excuse, but its the truth. There's just something that stands in the way of the reconnection. Memories fill my mind. It's impossible to forget the moments we shared, for they shaped me into the person I am today. I know its my fault that this gap was opened in the first place but I just want you to know how desperately I want to bridge it. I hold all of you dear to me. You are all my friends. I really do, despite your skepticism, love you all. I won't forget you.

Re: Re: "Why this world isn't an illusion"

Despite the confusing title, I am replying to Joel's post.

http://sky-sailors-handbook.blogspot.com/2010/11/re-why-this-world-isnt-illusion-jason.html

He has the link to the original.

You say that flesh has memory, though I would say this is simply a learnt response due to our bodies complex nervous system, stemming from the brain. Cut off your hands, and they will on their own obviously be unable to sculpt. As for your proposed replacement of hands, your body in time could gain back your lost dexterity, and potentially surpass it depending on the condition of the hands. It is simply a matter of how long it takes the join to heal and nerves to connect.

I would not though, go as so far as to a person is totally encased in their brain. Though a persons thoughts and ideas stem from the brain, these ideas are created from what we see, hear, feel, taste and smell, all functions of the 'shell'. Replace someones brain in a different body, and slowly they will become a different person as their reality is altered by the new shell's sensory perception. This could lead to the argument of devices such as prosthetic limbs and organ transplants, altering a shell's perception which I believe they may very well do.

Your example of brain transplants simple exhibits the thought that as our shells change, so do our selfs. I believe this is true, and is constantly happening on a small scale. Puberty is an excellent natural example of us. Our bodies change which leads to a change in our minds and potential views on the world. Even outside stimuli could provoke a change in ourselves, for example a strong piece of text evoking an emotional response, that could lead to ideas being formed. This leads to the conclusion that though our brain controls our movements and thoughts, the way it decides upon these is based on how we interpret our reality. The self and the shell are intrinsically linked.

Though this has been slightly off topic, I hope my point is clear.

Its what's inside you that I despise, though the outside is pretty dreadful too

You sit there in your little uniforms scheming away. Thinking that your the best of us. Riding your high horse off into a clichéd sunset. But it really isn't true. And we all know it. Sometimes I wonder if you do. You can sit for as long as you like in your little fascist utopia, but as soon as you get out into the real word you will crumble away, weak and spineless. You take picture after picture of yourselves. You think your funny, you think your pretty, you think your clever, you think your weird, you think your different, you think your the best thing ever to happen to the world, you think your gods gift to women. Let me assure you, NONE of this is true. You are so very, very small minded. If you were reading this now all you would be doing is pointing out everyone of my little grammar mistakes but seriously, no one gives a fuck when you do that. Have your fun while it lasts, because sooner or later you will come crashing down and all of your 'friends' will be no where to be found, and you'll find your self in the same pool as the rest of us. Oh how horrible that must be! Us living our lives in filth. Sex, drugs and violence, thats all we care for isn't it? We're not really capable of having a real human connection or being truly happy. But you certainly are aren't you. You pushed us away and you didn't even know us. You didn't know the slightest thing about us. And you know the really sad thing? You could all be such great people. But instead you choose to waste your life in that ironic hell hole. Narrowing your minds and views day by day. When you actually learn a thing or two about life, give me a call.

Those of you I love, sorry for the generalization, but you'll never read this anyway.

Me good old family

you know I've considered devoting a blog just to family life and such, but I think a post every now and then will do for now.

Everyone in my family seems to function on fads. Alex especially, mum reasonably, dad at times. I've really thought I do, but hey, assuming i'm not adopted, I've probably picked it up from somewhere. The more I consider it, I guess I do go through fads, just not as defined as my other compatriots.

Alex's fad at the moment is comics, to be more specific DC comics, and to be even more specific a rather fast growing obsession with the green lantern. Now don't get me wrong, I love superheros. Anyone who knows me knows I love my batman. But 3 t-shirts, 6 comics, and a proper green lantern ring in the past couple of weeks? Pushing the borders a little in my book. After being shown previously mentioned big bang episode, where sheldon is holding a 'limited addition green lantern lantern' Alex turns to me and says "That one's a couple of hundred bucks, so I'll have to save up for a bit". To be honest I slack jawed a little. Goodness me. Am I living with a 21 year old man child? No, I'm being to cruel. Alex is a lovely fellow and a fantastic brother, and when viewed from his point of view his love of comics is quite rationale. It just astounds me at times.

Oh. And did I mention bond? James Bond? here comes another paragraph haha. So when we were little, we had 'James Bond: Golden Eye' in the N64. To be honest it was a pretty great game. Recently, it has been re released on the Wii. Again, I'm not going to lie, its pretty sweet. Though, as usual it has sparked another of Alex's fads. We now almost have all Bond movies downloaded, a bond theme tune CD in the car, and have Alex occupying the living room most of the day playing the game. Each to his own I spose, just isn't really for me.

Mum's has two big things going at the moment. 1. Getting a new couch and 2. A revitalized love of gardening. Neither of these I am adverse to at all, though after being quite literally drowned in fabric samples I am starting to question the new couch. Could it really be so glorious as to require such back breaking labor to acquire it? It better be a damn good couch. Guess thats about all I got. I can't really bag on gardening, because well its a pretty normal thing to do.

Dad's fads are slightly more ingrained into his behavior. Less of a fad, more of a fully fledged way of life. Just those little acts that make your day. Perhaps my favorite of these concerns every trip dad takes to the dentist. Dad, not wanting to feel a thing while in the chair, pays for happy gas, which he ingests until, and I quote "the roof starts spinning". After the checkup and what not he then goes to Woden plaza, to the same store, and buys a green collared short sleeve shirt. I'm pretty sure that by now he has about 5. Despite mum's efforts of before every trip, telling him not to buy a shirt, he always buys the shirt.

"You always buy that shirt when you've had the gas"
"But it was on special"

"You already have 5 of them"

"But it was on special!"

I'm also rather fond of the compliments I acquire when dad is under the influence of anything, be it the happy gas or a little too much beer on a weekend afternoon. Upon doing the simplest things such as taking out the garbage I'll receive great kudos.

"There we go dad, garbage is out"

"Thanks david, your SUCH a good son"

"... thanks dad?"

"No i mean it. I'm really proud of you"

"thats nice dad"

haha. Oh goodness. Family, your are quite hilarious. Well, i think thats enough of that for now. My brains a little fried, so apologizes if that is actually just boring dribble thats poured out in a moment of weakness. For those of you who do actually know my family, it would be appreciated if you didn't spread it round. I don't want a belting lol.

good lord...

So my brother comes into my room

"David!"

"what?"

"Yesterday I was watching big bang theory, and when they said the green lantern oath they got it wrong"
"Oh?"

"Yeah. they said darkest night when they should have said BLACKEST night"

"-eyeroll-"

He's 21 might I ad.

You know things are up when your brother starts becoming more geeky than the guys on big bang.

Sometimes I swear I'm living in a mad house.

Who am I?

Who am I to think that I can do these things that fill my mind? Consumed by ambition, I rarely notice the ridiculousness of my own thoughts. Greater men that me have tried and failed. Who am I to even think I can change what I am, or shape what I will become. A decision can only take you so far. I am trying to take action, to change what I can, but so far little has come of it. Perhaps I need more time, but I have no idea how much time I have to work with. A pretty picture isn't going to change anything. Where does this sense of purpose stem from? Some mis guided sense of self righteousness perhaps. Maybe I'm trying to prove that I can do this, that I'm not crazy for hoping. I wait wondering what it is I shall achieve, and in the meantime I do nothing.

Is it really so wrong to wish for a single light to illuminate the night?

For one voice to muster thousands?

To have faith that people can change?

I am, most definitely, a man of faith. It may be an impossible feat. I may be delusional. But I will feel no shame falling short, knowing I have put every ounce of my being into achieving my aims. There is no way anyone is going to hold me back.

Make up

I'm not ashamed to show myself to the world. I won't lie when you ask me a question. I want you to see me as I really am. No mask. No make up.

Why am i always such a whingy bastard when it comes to love?

Why am i not always happy with the perfectly fine life i lead?

Why am i so slow sometimes?

Why does it take me so long to understand things?

Why can't I think deeper?

Why can't I put more effort in?

What if I don't achieve my dreams?

What happens if I let my friends down?

What do people really say about me when I'm not around?

Why do I get weirdly obsessive over things?

Why do I find it so hard to get on with people?

How many of my friends do I actually mean anything to?

Have I ever let the people who mean everything to me down?

Should I hate myself for what I've done?

Have I waisted my youth?

What does it matter anyway, I'm only one of 7 billion. Relatively, I have but the simplest of problems.

That perfect someone

So we sit and wait for them, twiddling our thumbs while the whole world passes us by. No matter how long I wait for her, she never arrives. I am not the first, and nor will I be the last in a long line of suitors, waiting for that dream girl to walk round the corner. How did I know that my perfect girl has already found her perfect man? Yet still I waited.

I no longer desire perfection, that boyish fantasy has passed. What I long for is a connection. Someone who I can talk to deep into the night. Our lives are filled to the breaking point with superficiality. I have friends. I know people. But how many of them do I actually know things about? If you had to give a 5 minute talk about all of your 'friends', how many talks do you think you'd be able to finish? I don't care if she's smarter than me or I'm smarter than her. I don't care if she's christian, jewish, catholic or muslim. I don't want it to be a big deal. I don't even care if I'm not their 'everything'.

I lie alone thinking if I'll even know if its them when we meet. I doubt that I would. I wonder how long it will take me to realize how important they are to me. These questions plague me constantly. The deeper my thought protrudes the less sense I seem to make.

So many people are obsessed about sex all the time. Even in physics of all classes there are guys constantly trying to get laid. But how much pleasure can be gained from such an encounter? You know them no better, and they probably don't even know you that well. Why at its core must humanity be so brutal and animalistic?

Right now I'd swear that I couldn't want you anymore, but I guess i'm still pretty young and dumb. Please know that this is not a whine. I am not looking for sympathy. I am not depressed. I am simply trying to make sense of things. Waiting hasn't hurt me in the past. I'll just continue to do that.

I want my suitcase

I want to get a big suitcase and put all my things in it. All my possessions, in one bag. I have so much fuss and clutter, so much needless stuff that i don't even know I have. I crave so badly to squeeze it all away, turn it into something useful instead of just sitting there, proof of my indulgence. Slowly, my cupboard is thinning out. It might take a little a bit, maybe even a year, but it will be done. My life in a box. It probably sounds insane to most people, but i really can't wait. It'll be my bag. I'll take it everywhere I go. It might even get lost once or twice along the way. But I'll find it again. My travels will be grand. Me and my bag wondering the world. What a freeing thought. We'll trek through the jungles drenched in sweat. We'll walk along the beaches, the cool wind tussling my hair.

Two shirts

Two pairs of pants

Two pairs of shorts

Two pairs of socks

Two pairs of underpants

Two singlets

Two hankies

A jacket

A jumper

A water proof something

My teddy

My survival things

As many books as I can fit

My toothbrush

Some toothpaste

My soap

Something a little fancy to wear.

That's all i'll need, one to wear while the other one dries. Let my good times begin. I'm looking forward to meeting you bag