I just noticed that I've been blogging for over a year now! My first post was posted on 03/01/2012, and I was just reading. I guess I haven't really changed. (People who have met me in real life might tell you that I may not be a human. In my social circles, as far as I know, I am the only one who doesn't change. As Monk would say, "It's a gift, and a curse.")
On a regular day, I can't really ask for more than great music. On awesome days, I get to experience great music differently.
I've always wished to live inside a music album, and so I have tried many ways to reach that goal. One of these ways is to have a paper and a pencil with me while listening, and I have to draw and/or write anything that crosses my mind. It doesn't have to look good, but it has to be honest, so to speak. When I'm done listening, what I have is, essentially, a self-portrait of myself inside that album.
I listened to album with a friend a couple of days ago, and we we wrote (a very short story) for four minutes together. Today, we listened to another album together, and each of us we decided to write poems inspired by our own reflection on the album, and not necessarily the album itself. Here is mine:
Eyes, running down, receding to clouds;
A mother's sun and her mountain drown.
Failing water never meant to lie underground,
Smoke inspires yours trees and sound;
Shining stars, ever so slightly gleaming,
Glow worms with such delicacy seeming.
- Lonely child, only child,
Singing poems to the night,
Come inside, forget the wild,
There's no reason for fright.
- Brittle golden leaves fallen on the hardened earth, beautifully failing at keeping up with the world. Miserable failure has never seemed more elegant. The wind blows softly, steadily... the leaves weaken over time, and then finally give way to the wind. They let the wind take control as they realize that they are insignificant leaves, and that they will all die alone, but the wind remains immortal.
- (Sing a hymn to the immortal wind.)
- The wind we are feeling today is the same wind that was here thousands of years ago... the same dirt, the same planet. We think we can still outlast this. In a hundred years, none of those who are alive now will still be around, and you'd think we'd start anew, but nobody ever does.
- Not all old men are bitter.
- Not all old men are old, but not all young men are young either.
- (Sing me a song of complete misery and terrible, beautiful agony. Sing me your swan song.)
- (Sing me a song of your beauty.)
- "Shhh... only dreams now, child... only dreams now."
"I love this dream..."
In all honesty, I'm finding it hard to exist. I simply am, be it willingly or not. I was created and then born, and I've been trapped here for a long time. Everyday I have to deal with all kinds of things that I do not like, and they're all stopping me from being. I am only existing. I have been burdened with my brain. It is not that I am intellectually superior to anyone, but that I think differently. It's a gift, and a curse. I see, I feel, I hear, I remember, I experience. I spend a good amount of time imagining myself in the heads of other people. It is not that I am trying to judge myself, but that I am experiencing myself in a different way. It strikes me as strange that while I am experiencing everything around me, even if I'm not consciously registering it, I am being experienced by other people who are thinking of me. I am an experience; an idea, in a way. I am flawed. I am not broken, but sometimes I am more of a machine than a human. Each side of me is fighting to take control, and I am standing there in between. Soon I will be crashing and burning, falling and failing, dying... can I be reborn out of my own ashes?
"Fundamental to contemporary Quantum Theory is the notion that there is no phenomenon until it is observed. This effect is known as the 'Observer Effect'.
The implications of the 'Observer Effect' are profound because, if true, it means that before anything can manifest in the physical universe it must first be observed. Presumably observation cannot occur without the pre-existence of some sort of consciousness to do the observing. The Observer Effect clearly implies that the physical Universe is the direct result of 'consciousness'.
This notion has a striking resemblance to perennial esoteric theory which asserts that all phenomena are the result of the consciousness of a single overlighting Creative Principle or the Mind of God.
There is a delicious irony in all this. Contemporary Western scientific theory postulates that human consciousness is solely a result of the workings of a physical brain, yet if the observer effect is correct, the physical matter comprising a brain cannot come into existence until it is the subject of observation by some pre-existing consciousness."
"Why does he still believe? And why is he different from the rest of us, even though we believe in the same things?"
"Oh, my dear boy," he breathes in slowly to prepare his reply, and he says, "those who believe in anything these days are few, and their days are numbered. Most of these few still believe in true things, even if they aren't there."
"Yes, I know that. But what makes him different?"
He lets out a breathy sigh, then replies, "He believes in true things specifically because they aren't there."
A short silence ensues.
"I'm sorry, I don't quite follow?"
He opens his mouth as to speak slowly, saying, "You see, he believes that true things exist, but they're simply not here because we are not ready to receive them. When we are, they will come."
