My Body is a Cage

I haven't written anything in a while, so allow me to apologize for that. I've been very busy recently, that's all. Today I'm going to share with you the lyrics to the song "My Body is a Cage", by Arcade Fire. To be honest, I never listened to the original version, but instead discovered it through Peter Gabriel's cover of it on his album "Scratch My Back", which contains orchestral arrangements of songs by various artists, where the vocals are covered by Gabriel himself. The symphonic arrangement for this particular track was enchanting, and Gabriel's vocals were amazing. I'm sharing the lyrics because they're particularly interesting. They invoke amazing images, ideas and thoughts.

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MY BODY IS A CAGE:


My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

I'm standing on the stage
Of fear and self-doubt
It's a hollow play
But they'll clap anyway

My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

Standing next to me
My mind holds the key

I'm living in an age
That calls darkness light
Though my language is dead
Still the shapes fill my head

I'm living in an age
Whose name I don't know
Though the fear keeps me moving
Still my heart beats so slow

My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

Standing next to me
My mind holds the key

My body is a . . .

My body is a cage
We take what we're given
Just because you've forgotten, that don't mean you're forgiven

I'm living in an age
Still turning in the night
But when I get to the doorway
There's no one in sight

I'm living in an age
Realizing I'm dancing
With the one I love
But my mind holds the key

You're still next to me
My mind holds the key
Set my spirit free
Set my spirit free
Set my body free
Set my body free
Woo!
Set my spirit free
Set my body free
Oh, oh
Oh, oh

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Blogger didn't let me embed the video, so here's the link if you want to listen:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeFezGJF7mA

God bless.

(:

We are the People

We are the people. This is our time, our place, our world. You will not torment us. You will not stop us. You cannot overthrow us. We will have our revenge. We are our own vengeance. We are the streets shouting freedom.

We are the wind's howl,
We are the sea's rage;
We are the fire's scowl,
We are time's age.

Oh, freedom we are!
Peace we will be!
Stretching out and far,
Making this world free.

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Consider this as my reflection on the events of 2011 in general, and a celebration and recounting of the Egyptian 25th of January revolution.

In memoriam Egypt, on 25 / 01 /2011

A few intriguing thoughts...

I always enjoy 'munching' on a good thought, so I thought I'd share some of the interesting thoughts I have with you. Hope you enjoy thinking about them!

1) Are negative dimensions possible? We live in a world that has many dimensions, and we can only perceive four of them. So can negative dimensions exist? I'd say that these are what we'd find on the other side of black holes. I also believe that right on the 'surface' of a black hole would be the zeroth dimension; the point of nothing.

2) What is the opposite of space? If everything exists in space, then space would exist in an even greater space. So, the question is, is there something that isn't 'space'? What would that be like? Is nothingness the opposite of space? Is it that it doesn't exist or that we can't imagine it?

3) What is 'nothing'? When I try to imagine nothingness, I always imagine this white space that extends in all possible directions. But that's not 'nothing'. That's space, and it's colored white. Nothingness wouldn't even be this same space even if it were transparent, because what color would that be then?

4) What would colorlessness be like? A black-and-white life isn't colorless. It's colored, only monochromatically. Could something be colorless? By the way, I don't believe transparent material counts in this case, because it takes the color of whatever is behind it (or the light shining on it). Imagine it like this: if the whole universe was transparent, what would that be like?

5) Can we imagine something with less than two faces? Think about a coin, for example. It has two faces. Can you imagine it with one face only? It's impossible for me.

Poem - Growing Up

This is not my regular poetry; nevertheless, I'm taking my chances. I'll save you my interpretation of the poem and will leave this up to you. I think it's better that way. The idea for the poem is partially inspired by William Blake's "Songs of Innocence and Experience". Now, without further ado, the poem:

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GROWING UP:

I feel the days grow old,
And I still remain the same.
I see the nights unfold,
And I'm more than just a name.

Many lies they have told,
In order to win their game;
But lies aren't made of gold
And soon will die their fame.

My honesty shall be bold,
And my desires I shall tame;
My future I will hold,
I will not be the same.

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Just after I finished writing the poem here and revising it, I noticed that there's some sort of secret message in there. If you think you've found it, post it as a comment and I'll reply telling you if you got it or not.

God bless.

(:

What Do You Go Home To?

We live in a strange world that we yearn to explore, and we're too afraid to explore what should be explored, and we exploit what shouldn't be exploited. But, in the middle of this whole word that vibrates with life, both the malignantly narcissistic and harmlessly optimistic of it, lies what we call 'home'. Home is where we find all we need: love, safety, memories and warmth. Yet, in our youth, we do yearn to escape this 'home' of ours and explore the world, because 'home' has become some sort of a trap. Then, as we grow older, we realize how important 'home' can be, and that happens as soon as we're away from it. But... what is home? Is it a physical location? A certain person? A song? A distant memory? A grand deception?

I'd argue that 'home' is a combination of many factors linked to one major factor that dominates all others. Thus, in the absence of the dominant factor, all other factors will serve as reminders of the greater factor; the actual foundations of your 'home'.

So that's home then. And here's the question: can we live without a 'home'? I'd say yes, but it wouldn't be a very pleasant life. Tormenting the soul on purpose would be less of a pain, to be honest. The suffering may be strangely pleasurable at first for some, though, and is taken as a source of inspiration.

This post was inspired by an instrumental by the post-rock band Explosions in the Sky, titled "What Do You Go Home To?" The question got me thinking for quite a while... what do I go home to? Where is home?

What do you go home to?

God bless.

(:

Just some questions...

Why does the truth elude us? How valuable is the truth? Do we seek the ultimate truth because we are predestined to, or is it just because others have done so before us? Is the truth the same for everyone? is there  a truth in the first place? Is it that we can't find the truth, that there is no truth (which is a truth in itself), or that the truth is what is actually leading us astray?  If the truth is what purposely leads us astray, is it still truth? Since the truth itself is unknown, is humanity's venture to find it worth it after all? Can we create a different truth? can we live without any truth? Is it truth that gives purpose to life, or life that gives purpose to truth, or are both just a misconception of humanity's? Would life be worth it if it all made sense? If, upon reaching the truth, one realized that what made it precious was the journey, would they still share it or would they keep it to themselves? Is it the truth that leads us onto the false paths and ways, or is this part of human imperfection? If perfection demands the existence of imperfection, does perfection still really exist? Is existence subjective, objective, or both? Why do all contradictions seem to agree on the same basic principles? Does one choose his own principles, or do the principles choose him? Why is life clearly vague?

The 12 Faces of Humankind

I always love interesting album art. I collect pictures of all of the different albums I listen to, and admire the art in them. The following is the album art from King Crimson's album, "In the Wake of Poseidon", released in 1970. The album art is a painting by Tammo De Jongh, called "The 12 Faces of Humankind", or "The 12 Archetypes". The idea behind the work is the following: The artist believes that there are four elements that make up this world: air, fire, earth and water. And, each of these 12 archetypes is made of a combination of two of these elements. The 12 archetypes and their respective elements are:

- The Fool (fire and water)

- The Actress (water and fire)

- The Observer (air and earth)

- The Old Woman (earth and air)

- The Warrior (fire and earth)

- The Slave (earth and fire)

- The Child (water and air)

- The Patriarch (air and water)

- The Logician (air and fire)

- The Joker (fire and air)

- The Enchantress (water and earth)

- Mother Nature (earth and water)

[Note that the order in which the two elements are listed is important.]

Below is a picture of the painting:

You can identify each character and see a bigger version of each individual here:

http://thehope.tripod.com/rgface12.htm

Now that I'm done explaining the art, I'd like to say why I like it very much. First off, it's very easy to relate to. I believe that everyone passes through these 12 archetypes during their lifetime, and we choose the one that we are most comfortable in. Second is the elements: thinking about the relation of each character to their elements opens up worlds of beauty for me. Third is the colors: I love the combinations and different shadings of all of the colors in the painting. Fourth and last for now is the album itself by King Crimson, especially the eponymous track, "In the Wake of Poseidon." The elements and characters make an appearance in the lyrics, though not under the same names. Below are the lyrics, written by Peter Sinfield:

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IN THE WAKE OF POSEIDON:

Plato's spawn cold ivyed eyes 

Snare truth in bone and globe. 

Harlequins coin pointless games 

Sneer jokes in parrot's robe. 

Two women weep, dame scarlet screen 

Sheds sudden theatre rain, 

Whilst dark in dream the midnight queen 

Knows every human pain. 

In air, fire, earth and water 

World on the scales. 

Air, fire, earth and water 

Balance of change 

World on the scales 

On the scales. 

Bishop's kings spin judgement's blade 

Scratch "faith" on nameless graves. 

Harvest hags hoard ash and sand 

Rack rope and chain for slaves 

Who fireside fear fermented words 

Then rear to spoil the feast; 

Whilst in the aisle the mad man smiles 

To him it matters least. 

Heroes hands drain stones for blood 

To whet the scaling knife. 

Magi blind with visions light 

Net death in dread of life. 

Their children kneel in Jesus 'til

They learn the price of nail; 

Whilst all around our Mother Earth 

Waits balanced on the scales.

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The lyrics are abstract in some points, amazing in others. I hope you do enjoy them. And please forgive me if this is different from my regular posts; I just felt like writing this today when I saw a status update with the word 'madman' in it today on Facebook, so I instantly remembered this line from the lyrics:

"Whilst in the aisle, the mad man smiles. To him it matters least."

Anyways, I'm working on a new poem that I'll share with you soon... I'm also working on finding a word or phrase that you (yes you, blog readers), would use to identify each other around the Internet. I know it's only something like twenty people at best who have seen my blog, but it's still fun. You know, just like a small secret that we share together. If you've got any suggestions, please post them in the comments section. Meanwhile, I'll be thinking. Let's hope for the best.

God bless.

(:

Finding the Truth?

I've been torn apart by this thought lately... the essence of existence. Not life, but existence. Here's the thought:

We, as humans, seek the truth. We live searching for but never finding it, and we pass on whichever clues we found to those who will live after us in order to continue this search. Yet, over all of the years during which man has lived, nobody has found the truth and passed it over to others. Is it that the truth is actually non-existent? Or is it that the truth is so simple to the point that we cannot comprehend it?

When searching for the truth, we think about the essence of life, the point of existence and the nature of man. But, what is the truth that we seek? What will it explain? Does it serve any purpose? Does it actually exist?

It seems that the closer we get to this truth, the more it eludes us. The further we go on in our chase of this truth, the more we realize how futile our devices are and how imperfect we actually are. It seems as if the closer we think we are to the truth, the more it tears us apart and torments our souls. It's as if the truth itself is what is leading us astray of it, but to what end?

Perhaps all of our established premises are wrong. Perhaps there is no truth.

But is it possible? Would existence without truth be possible? Wouldn't that demand the non-existence of anything that isn't part of this truth, and is inherently false? Is there a truth or not to begin with?

...and then we think again. What can't we comprehend? Humanity has reached the point of arrogance where it claims that it can explain almost anything with time. We can come up with all of the different scientific theories and experiments to explain the world, but we can't explain why it is so in the first place.

The 'truth' that I have found is that the truth is not a 'thing'; not an idea, not a physical object, not an emotion. The truth was, is, and will always be beyond our comprehension. We are confined to a world with a set of paradigms, and we can only seek the truth outside the borders of these paradigms; outside our confinement.

The truth is something that we know is there but can never understand. It is by design that we cannot face this truth until we've  been released from our paradigms by whomever made them. Is death the answer then? Is it that death is the truth? That's possible; but death is part of the paradigms, and therefore cannot be the truth. Ladies and gentlemen, the 'truth' we've been looking for for so long is God.

God. He understands, but cannot be fully understood. It is beyond our capacity in this life. Omniscient and omnipotent he is. You might be thinking now, 'But, if God is the truth, why can't we prove to us that he exists? Why can't we prove that he exists?' The answer is simple enough. First off, He is testing our faith. Second, it's by design. Let me elaborate...

We cannot prove God's existence because we are creatures, while He is the creator. He has showed us the way to him through faith. He has given us two different, double-edged blessings: the mind and the heart. The mind will observe, explain and analyze what it meets. The heart will judge what to do and how to act. Both of these faculties were put to test with two other gifts: logic and faith. Logic will be the device of the mind, and will be monitored by the heart. Faith will be the device of the heart, and will be monitored by the mind. The point is having the two work in harmony: whatever the mind's logic can explain should strengthen the heart's faith, and whatever can't be explained by the mind's logic should be accepted by the heart's faith.

That's where the basic drive behind our existence comes from. The mind can't rationalize the existence of God, but, with the help of faith, can accept it. Find this balance and you have found the way. The problem is, some people choose logic over faith because it's what appears to be right to them. Faith can't be proven and can't prove anything, while logic can. Thus, when logic is chosen over faith in explaining God's existence, one can reach the conclusion that God doesn't exist. The problem here is that the premise is false: the logic which is being used is faulty. God doesn't exist; He is. God is.

This is the truth to me. I may be right, and I may be wrong. Perhaps you agree with me, and perhaps you have another opinion. Perhaps every person's view on what the truth is is different. Perhaps the actual truth is different for each and every one of us. And perhaps it still doesn't exist. Perhaps the truth is a lie. We'll never truly know, but we can choose what to believe in.

God bless.

(:

The Complexity of a Real Woman

This idea has been on my mind for a long time, a very long time. It's the kind of idea that haunts you with its beauty, though. I'm not sure if I can explain this, but I'll try my best to do so...

Let me start by saying that trying to understand all women is like trying to understand quantum physics. Whenever you think you've got it, you find out that you've failed. What works for one woman does not work for the other, and what works for one woman at one time may not work at other times. But that's not the complexity I'm discussing.. let me be more clear: a woman is complex on many levels: the mental level, the emotional level, and the spiritual level. There's also a special factor at hand that I like to call the femininity factor.

The first and most obvious of levels in a woman is the mental level. I wouldn't call this a measure of how 'smart' she is, because I believe that there's no single definition for 'smart'. I believe that one can be 'smart' in any given direction or field, such as maths, music, the arts, language, and everything in between. You're 'smart' in what you excel at, and that applies for both men and women. Thus, a woman's mental level is determined by what she excels in and what interests her the most; that which reaches her and excites her on the intellectual level.

The second level is the emotional level, the place which no man understands. I'm not going to explain this level, but rather how to react to the different emotions. It's a simple rule, I'm just stating the obvious: if they're happy, embrace their happiness with them. If they're not, ask them what's bothering them and sympathize with them. Offer to help them with your problems if you can. The problem is, sometimes a woman can change back between, say, three or four different emotions in a few minutes. That's problematic, but you just have to wait until she's calmed down and settled on one emotion.

The third level is the one where you shouldn't venture, but should act upon. The spiritual level defines a woman's beliefs in everything around her. You can't force a woman to believe in anything, but you can do actions that'd change her views regarding the world around her.

Now comes the femininity factor. While that may sound like a measure of how feminine a lady is, it's not that. This factor is a measure of how complex a woman is on all three levels. Some women are only strong on one or two of these levels. Others may be strong on all three levels, but prefer to hide one or more of them from other people. You have to dare and explore the woman's 'world' if you want to find out the true measure of the femininity factor; you'd be surprised how much of themselves they keep to themselves.

If you find a woman who excels on all three levels (and thusly has a high femininity factor), then you're in luck: you're in front of a woman who can, and probably will, lead the future in her respective field(s) of interest.

Now, the simple fact is, most, if not all, men are haunted by this complexity of women because they fear that they cannot understand it all. That's a point, but that's not how to look at it. Look at it the other way around: if you were to live with a woman who is completely understandable, imagine how boring your life would be. It'd be pointless, and you'd get bored of that woman and would start looking for others you don't know. So, my point is, women's complexity isn't scary.

Look at it like this: the complexity of a real woman is beautiful. A real woman is as complex as you want her to be, and then some. The point is not being able to understand her all the time, but letting her be able to understand you correctly. A woman should be a mirror for you conscience at all times; an opportunity for you to reflect on yourself in her. Unravel her secrets, explore her potential, let her bloom. That's the mark of a truly great woman: she blooms over time. That's because she's much more than a body. A woman is a free spirit, a living conscience, a blooming life. Women are the essence of the world.

So it's not all about liking, marrying and/or loving women. It's about embracing much more than what they are. It's about embracing who they are and growing into them and with them. So, to all of the women of all the different ages who have made a difference in my life, thank you. It is a pleasure to know you, and you will always be remembered.

God bless.

(:

King Crimson - Epitaph

Today I'm not presenting something I wrote myself, but I'll be sharing with you a poem by Peter Sinfield, which later became the lyrics for the song 'Epitaph' by King Crimson. Enjoy:

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EPITAPH:

The wall on which the prophets wrote

Is cracking at the seams.

Upon the instruments of death

The sunlight brightly gleams.

When every man is torn apart

With nightmares and with dreams,

Will no one lay the laurel wreath

When silence drowns the screams.

Confusion will be my epitaph.

As I crawl a cracked and broken path

If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.

But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying,

Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.

Between the iron gates of fate,

The seeds of time were sown,

And watered by the deeds of those

Who know and who are known;

Knowledge is a deadly friend

When no one sets the rules.

The fate of all mankind I see

Is in the hands of fools.

Confusion will be my epitaph.

As I crawl a cracked and broken path

If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.

But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying,

Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.

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God bless.

(:

Play the Piano

It's around five o'clock in the afternoon. I'm alone at home, and I've just awakened from a session of lucid dreaming. I head towards my room, and, as soon as I enter, I realize that the sun now gently shines its rays on our planet in the form of the slightly darkened atmosphere of my room. I close the curtains. The sunlight is scarce, but it's still there, like a glimpse of hope in the darkest of hours.

I sit down at the piano. For just a moment, and before I touch the piano, I close my eyes for a second. I remember how many great people have done the same thing I am about to do right now, and how they have sat in the same spot as me. Perhaps not in the same physical location or time, but that doesn't make a great difference to me. A musical instrument is a mirror of the soul to some, and to others it can be even more: it's where the soul speaks. That's why you can't place a date on proper music, for a soul should live as if it were to exist for an eternity. Perhaps it may have forgotten about the moment when it was created, and perhaps it doesn't know when it will pass on to the next life. But that should inspire it. Music can't be old, music can't be new. Music can be an echo of the most distant of pasts and the most haunting of futures, a place and time where no other soul has ever trodden before. Perhaps even more.

I open my eyes. I look at the keys with a keen eye and an alert conscience. It feels as if every key glows with character, as if each key was a whole new world waiting for me to discover and unravel its secrets. Which opportunity for visiting a beautiful world should I choose this time? My fingers hover over the keys, not knowing which one to pick. Suddenly, they stop. Slowly, I play the key over which my fingers stopped, and I listen to the note as it sounds until it dies out. I play it again, and I keep doing so until my soul resonates with the note. I am the note. I am the piano.

I start exploring the beautiful world in which I am now in. I start seeing more of that world as I move around the other notes on the piano. Once I've figured out the musical scale, I see the whole world unfolding in front of me. It expands and grows as I play the keys, and I explore it. As soon as the melody has been found, the world in which I exist sings with joy. Then come the chords, which give the world its rhythm. I move around, absorbing in all I can. Sometimes it's joy and mirth more than I could handle. Other times it's sorrow and woe more than I could imagine ever existed. Either way, the journey is always a beautiful one.

I then feel a change of moods; an inclination to play a different chord sequence or scale starts haunting me, so I do so. I, being the sole note I started playing originally, am still nothing but a soul. Then, some of the other notes around me start changing. Some are born, some die. At the same time. Beautifully horrifying, horrifyingly beautiful.

I explore the most distant of places and times, some which never existed until I visited them. I keep playing; sometimes with my eyes wide open, and other times with my eyes closed. I keep playing until I reach a natural stopping point, the point at which I've either found or created something new in myself. Perhaps a newly found passion for something old, perhaps an old friend discovered in a person I just met. Perhaps something else about myself that I know but don't understand. I'm not entirely sure.

I reach my natural stopping point. Gradually, I start playing slower and quieter. I finally reach the point at which I stop playing, and lift my fingers off the piano slowly. I sit there for a few moments, contemplating and internalizing this journey of mine. Perhaps my room has now become darker, but the new light in my soul outshines the darkness; the flame has been rekindled. I get up, leave my room, and face the world with a whole new outlook on myself.

Poem - The Miserable Humorist

I started writing this poem a few days ago, then I stopped (because of a mood shift), but came back and finished it today. It is titled 'The Miserable Humorist'. I will not disclose the identity of the Miserable Humorist at the moment. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the poem:

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THE MISERABLE HUMORIST:

He is, was, and will be

Since birth and until he dies,

Neither the worst of the fools,

Nor the best of the wise,

He is the Miserable Humorist.

With a smile on his lips,

And a tear in his eyes,

He finally understands,

And out his soul cries,

I am the Miserable Humorist.

A life full of truths,

A truth full of lies;

His life he did love,

His life he did despise.

You are the Miserable Humorist.

The world suffers in vain,

He won’t let that idea go;

He only lives to lament,

And to drown in sorrow.

From the most ancient of futures,

To the very far-fetched past,

He only lives for sweet sorrow,

And on that he will fast.

He is the Miserable Humorist.

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God bless.

(:

Do you fear death?

Hello. Do you fear death?

You've probably asked yourself that question before, but have you actually thought about it? I believe that we, as humans, don't fear death. In fact, we even experience it on a daily basis. You're probably wondering how. Well, don't you go to sleep every night? You probably do. When you go to sleep, do you have any guarantee that you will wake up the next day? You don't; you just sleep because you have to. It's the same thing with death; we die because we have to. But it's not the death itself that we fear, but rather the journey to the unknown afterwards. We've become so familiar with this world and we're not ready to abandon it for another one. The following is an excerpt from the lyrics of 'Animae Partus' by Pain of Salvation:

"To become is just like falling asleep.You never know exactly when it happens. The transition, the magic. And you think, if you could only recall that exact moment of crossing the line, then you would understand everything. You would see it all."

So, since becoming is just like falling asleep, death is just like falling asleep. Substitute the words 'falling asleep' in the quote above with 'death', and reread it. It should make more sense now.

God bless.

(:

Music and emotions; the connection..

After telling my friend about my decision regarding the name of this blog and the reasoning behind it, my friend replied to me with a message. The following words are from that message:

"It never ceases to amaze me. That everything always goes back to music in your mind. It's really beautiful."

Those phrases got me thinking; why does everything go back to music in my mind? I know I've got a passion for music, but that doesn't quite explain why this happens. I believe this happens because music, to me, is much more than something I listen to. Music is something I feel, something I live, something I experience. as Matt Bellamy, frontman of the English rock band Muse, once said, "Music is a matter of emotion." I believe that is very true; music does not only speak to the emotional side of people, but it is the emotions that we feel, only in a different form.

Sometimes I think in music and then translate it to words. The feeling is beautiful until I actually have to talk. Whatever was on my mind then loses its brilliance automatically, unless it was spoken in music. If only everyone could appreciate music properly...

I'll leave you with a beautiful piece of music; 'Nuvole Bianche' by Ludovico Einaudi. Enjoy:

God bless.

(:

Simple rule for treating others

I woke up today thinking about how some people just fail at treating others as they should. It's an issue that I've suffered from a lot before. Sometimes I'm not in a mood to talk; not necessarily because I'm sad, but because I'm brooding over something. I don't like being disturbed when in deep thought. And, as a general rule, I don't like being disturbed by others when they have absolutely nothing to tell me. These abrupt interruptions aren't pleasant at all. So, after some thinking, I reached the following conclusion:

If you're not going to give people a piece of your mind, then leave them in their peace of mind.

God bless.

(:

In memoriam J.R.R. Tolkien

120 years ago, and on this day, John Ronald Reuel Tolkien was born. I don't have the words to mourn his passing, and I don't expect to. He may have been one man only, but his writings have influenced the lives of millions, and have continued to do so for over fifty years now. His most famous of works are The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings, and through them he has provided millions of people with what I'd argue and say is one of the greatest stories ever written.

May he rest in peace, or in Middle-earth.

"A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities." -- J.R.R. Tolkien







God bless.

(:

Just a small thought on my blog's background...

I was just choosing the background image for the blog a few minutes ago, and I had a really hard time picking one of the many excellent options that are available. Thank you Google, photographers, and digital artists. I finally decided on the golden leaves because I liked the colors and because a related thought struck my head. The leaves in the picture fall of the tree; it essentially loses part of itself. However, this process provides the observers in world around it with a sense of beauty. So, when thinking of the tree, don't think of it as the tree losing its leaves, but think of it as giving part of itself to the world around it as part of the process of renewal, in which it grows new leaves.

...and then I look at the selfish man who thinks his life would be better when he has 'more' of anything. It's sad what how humans have ruined capitalism so that it produces consumers only these days; the days when most people appreciated the simple pleasures in life are long gone, but there is still hope to get them back. Just get rid of the capitalist machine. We are simple creatures; too simple to understand that any complexity we believe we have is just a figment of our imagination. An illusion, that is.

Be simple. Give from what you have to the world around you. Renew yourself.

God bless.

(:

First post... I can't think of any other title

So, this is my first post on here... hello world :)

I've created many a blog before this one, but I always ended up deleting them for no apparent reason. I'll try to stick with this one and I'll try to update it often.

I'll be posting all sorts of random things on this blog: any thoughts on my mind, interesting news, nice pictures, etc. So, since this is the first post, I won't leave you empty-handed. While creating this blog, I kept thinking of an appropriate name for it; a name that would be interesting to others and yet I'd be able to relate to. So I asked a friend of mine for some suggestions, and here's the amazing list I got as a reply:


- Voices
- Times
- Me, Myself, and I
- Stream of Consciousness
- iWrite.
- The Force (Star Wars. :p)
- Black holes
- Mindsteps
- Soul Salad!
- Catharsis
- AwesomeTimes
- Breath of Light
- Musi-mental/InstruMental
- A Symphonies
- Pieces of Things
- Upstairs
- Rays of Thoughts
- Beyond.
- StringSmiles
- MazeInside
- A Piece of The Mirror

I read the list and really liked many of the beautiful suggestions. However, I had already decided on the name after reading the first item on the list: "Voices". It reminded me of an instrumental by the Irish post-rock band And So I Watch You From Afar, titled "The Voiceless".

This is it:

(: