Being smart is a serious business. The thing about being smart is, once you are percieved as smart, people automatically associate you and smart together. This can be helpful and a nuisance as well. If you are going for the 'smart person' attitude, it is helpful because maintaining the smart badge is a lot easier than earning it. It is, however, somewhat annoying when people see someone who they perceive as smart do something dumb, or not even dumb--merely human. They revel in the glory of your mistakes and try to find out more so that they can attempt to pull you down to their intelligence level in their own mind. People love to see the powerful lose their power. I have thought up a few good ways of maintaining your smart level, or perhaps even earning your very own smart badge.
One way to appear smart is to hang around people who are actually smart. If you are constantly hanging around the pot-smoking, drunk emo kids who draw anime and listen to music instead of paying attention in class, then there is a good chance that people will assume you are one of them. Try hanging out with the people who talk about computers and books, Ahem...literature, and mention politics and the economy in passing. Some of the things that they may discuss can be dreadfully boring, but that is the price you have to pay to appear smart.
So once you find the right group of people to hang around so that you appear smart, you may encounter some problems if your brain isn't quite up to par with theirs. Their conversations may leave you coughing in the dust, so the best way to appear to understand them without actually having to know anything, is to just agree with them. Nod your head enthusiastically every once in a while, while saying, "yea" or "uh-huh". The hardest part of this is that sometimes you need to appear to be bored with what they are saying, and sometimes you need to appear rivitted, but you are trying to interject your own comments in the conversations to impart your knowledge on them. In reality, there is nothing that you really have to say at all because you have given up on actually understanding the things they normally converse about.
Another good tactic to use to appear more intelligent than you are is to use big words that mean simple things, or are so obscure people can't correct you because they don't know the correct meaning of it. This may take the most work out of any of the methods that I am mentioning, but it really is worthit. A good way to practice would be to go to Microsoft Word and type in some words that are commonly used. Then, go to the thesaurus and find some longer or more difficult sounding words that mean the same thing. You will have people coming to you for the answers to physics tests in no time if you keep this up for long!
The final way to appear smart is very simple--change the subject. This method, while the easiest to accomplish, is the most dangerous because people who are smart don't actually like to be interrupted while they are talking about something that they know a lot about. You have to try to change the subject to something that was very similarly related the previous topic, but is different enough so that you can understand it.
So there you have it--some ways wherein unintelligent people can appear to be rather intelligent. I just hope if you know me, you don't compare these methods to my own life. I might have some explaining to do.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
The Most Important Thing
I had an epiphany. I mean, it was something that I already KNEW, but hadn't yet experienced to the full extent. Of course, I have had tastes of it in the past, and knew it was great, but I didn't really GET it until just now. I now understand. I am englightened.
Now, as a precursor--not to sound ridiculously hubristic--I'm pretty smart. I don't mean to say that I am the SMARTEST person ever, but I know how to talk to people pretty well. If someone would have asked me, "So Matt, what is the most important thing in life?" I would have, without skipping a beat, said, "The people that you surround yourself with." And I would have meant it. I have beleived this to be the case for a very long time, and still do beleive it--but whenever asked this question and my answer given, I would feel somewhat hypocritical. I wasn't living it.
I have spent a lot of time in the past playing computer games, and reading, and writing, and just being by myself. I do 100% think that there is some value to a lot of these things. (In reasonable moderation of course) Harnessing creativity, keeping mental sharpness, excercising the imagination--all of these are things that I fully condone--but at the end, what are they worth?
Just now, literally minutes ago, I realized that without other people, life is empty. No, not simply realized, or learned; I gained wisdom. Wisdom cannot be learned, it must be experienced. I had been answering the correct answer to this question for years, but this is not just a headsmart answer to a life question.
What's the point of being creative if you have nobody to share your creativity with? What's the point of using your imagination if you have nobody to show your new world to? What's the point of having a nice car if you give no rides, or a nice house if you live alone, or a lot of money if you never buy something for someone? What's the point of being mentally sharp if you live alone in a room, never interacting with people or a vibrant world full of problems to solve?
My past choices and life experiences have made me who I am today. Yes, even the experiences of sitting alone in my room watching movies and reading and playing video games have had an impact on my current personality, and I do not regret them. But now, I look forward. Forward to the future and to new choices that I will make. People are important. More important than anything.
I was in my room, by myself, thinking when I realized it and that is an irony in itself. My ephiphany? There are some people worth giving everthing you have to spend your life with. All your time, all your posessions, all your creativity and imagination. Why? Because they give back to you. They are the most important. Find them and don't let go.
Now, as a precursor--not to sound ridiculously hubristic--I'm pretty smart. I don't mean to say that I am the SMARTEST person ever, but I know how to talk to people pretty well. If someone would have asked me, "So Matt, what is the most important thing in life?" I would have, without skipping a beat, said, "The people that you surround yourself with." And I would have meant it. I have beleived this to be the case for a very long time, and still do beleive it--but whenever asked this question and my answer given, I would feel somewhat hypocritical. I wasn't living it.
I have spent a lot of time in the past playing computer games, and reading, and writing, and just being by myself. I do 100% think that there is some value to a lot of these things. (In reasonable moderation of course) Harnessing creativity, keeping mental sharpness, excercising the imagination--all of these are things that I fully condone--but at the end, what are they worth?
Just now, literally minutes ago, I realized that without other people, life is empty. No, not simply realized, or learned; I gained wisdom. Wisdom cannot be learned, it must be experienced. I had been answering the correct answer to this question for years, but this is not just a headsmart answer to a life question.
What's the point of being creative if you have nobody to share your creativity with? What's the point of using your imagination if you have nobody to show your new world to? What's the point of having a nice car if you give no rides, or a nice house if you live alone, or a lot of money if you never buy something for someone? What's the point of being mentally sharp if you live alone in a room, never interacting with people or a vibrant world full of problems to solve?
My past choices and life experiences have made me who I am today. Yes, even the experiences of sitting alone in my room watching movies and reading and playing video games have had an impact on my current personality, and I do not regret them. But now, I look forward. Forward to the future and to new choices that I will make. People are important. More important than anything.
I was in my room, by myself, thinking when I realized it and that is an irony in itself. My ephiphany? There are some people worth giving everthing you have to spend your life with. All your time, all your posessions, all your creativity and imagination. Why? Because they give back to you. They are the most important. Find them and don't let go.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
What everyone truly wants.
What is the most valuable thing in life? Everyone has their own personal answer to this interesting question, but there are a few which many people will all have in common. Power, money, fame, women (or men), x-boxes, facebook friends...the list goes one. But what is the ultimate goal of having all of these things?
Take for example the age-old question, "Which is better to have, power, money or fame?". People argue, "With fame you have influence, and influence is power!" or "With money you have power and therefore you are famous!" or "With power you can take money, and then still be famous!" These are all ridiculous answers to a riduculous question. True, many people want all of these things and some will stop at nothing to get them, but they are still all a means to an end.
Take, for example, this quote, most often attributed to Jim Carrey, "I wish everyone could get rich and famous and everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that’s not the answer."
People think that these things are the end, and that once they get them, they will be happy. Once they get them, however, they realize that these things were not what they were truly looking for. They are still empty.
Let us start at the beginning, so as to figure out why people are so confused as to what they really want. Way back to preshistoric times when people still lived in caves, and grunted, and had triceratops steaks for dinner. (If they were lucky enough to kill one with those wooden spears that they threw.[so easy, even a caveman can do it]) Let's pretend that Mr. Caveman was sitting alone in his cave munching on his triceratops steak, when cute Ms. (Not a Mrs.) Cavewoman comes along. Mr. Caveman, for all practical purposes, is rich. Back then, the cavemen didn't measure wealth by cars, or yachts, or even little shiny gems that they found in rocks for that matter. If you were eating, then you were pretty well off.
So like I was saying, Mr. Caveman is getting fat and happy when Ms. Cavewoman comes along. Ms. Cavewoman is very hungry, and wants some of that nice triceratops steak, so she comes into the cave. Mr. Caveman is so happy to have some company that he willingly shares some of his hard-earned meat with her. Never mind the fact that she is nearly as hairy as he is, and could probably beat up lots of today's full grown men in a dark ally. There are many hand gestures and grunts involved, but I will leave those to your own imagination. From then on, Ms. Cavewoman began to come over to Mr. Caveman's cave more often because he gave her some food that one time. Maybe he was a nice cave man, maybe not--but she still got what she wanted. Whether or not they live happily ever after is a moot point because we have reached the end of my literary illustration.
We saw that Mr. Caveman was willing to trade some of his hard earned meat for Ms. Cavewoman's company. We, as all-knowing historical anthropologists, look at this situation and know for a fact (If you don't beleive me, go re-read the above paragraph) that Ms. Cavewoman kept coming over because he gave her some meat, not because there was some mystical attraction between the two of them that made them fall in love and bear forth many children to populate the earth. Mr. Caveman, not being a historical anthropoligist like we are, doesn't think about her true motives--he is just happy to be hanging around Ms. Cavewoman.
Before the story, you will recall that I was saying that power and money and fame are all means to an end. People don't seem to understand this. They think that they will be happy once they get all of these, but they are wrong.
While I used a somewhat humorous story to try and get a very serious point across, it still has some valid information. Subconciously, people associate power and money and fame, etc. with being loved, because their subconcious associates all of those things with having people around you. People know that others like to be around people who give them things, so they think that by having lots of things, people will want to be around them more. This is true in a certain sense, but in reality they are cheating themselves. They are surrounding themselves with people who do not truly want to be around them, but the things that they have.
People say that they want power, and money, and fame, but what they ultimately want is to be loved. To have someone who GETS them. People want to be understood, to have someone they can tell anything to and who will help them through anything. Someone who will ask them why they are crying, and then not get angry when the answer given is "nothing". Someone to laugh with them at stupid things, then cry over the sad ones. Someone to whisper secrets to at night, and sing loudly with from a mountain top. Someone to just be near them and be with them because they want to be.
They not only want this for themselves, but to be the reciprocal of it in the other person's life. For the most part, people don't even truly understand this until they gain what they thought they had been seeking, and find that there is another peak beyond the one they have just climbed. There is another award to get, another car to buy, another wife to marry. Think to yourself, what is it that you truly want. Do you place value on riches or influence, or the people that want to be around you because you are you, not because of what you have?
Take for example the age-old question, "Which is better to have, power, money or fame?". People argue, "With fame you have influence, and influence is power!" or "With money you have power and therefore you are famous!" or "With power you can take money, and then still be famous!" These are all ridiculous answers to a riduculous question. True, many people want all of these things and some will stop at nothing to get them, but they are still all a means to an end.
Take, for example, this quote, most often attributed to Jim Carrey, "I wish everyone could get rich and famous and everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that’s not the answer."
People think that these things are the end, and that once they get them, they will be happy. Once they get them, however, they realize that these things were not what they were truly looking for. They are still empty.
Let us start at the beginning, so as to figure out why people are so confused as to what they really want. Way back to preshistoric times when people still lived in caves, and grunted, and had triceratops steaks for dinner. (If they were lucky enough to kill one with those wooden spears that they threw.[so easy, even a caveman can do it]) Let's pretend that Mr. Caveman was sitting alone in his cave munching on his triceratops steak, when cute Ms. (Not a Mrs.) Cavewoman comes along. Mr. Caveman, for all practical purposes, is rich. Back then, the cavemen didn't measure wealth by cars, or yachts, or even little shiny gems that they found in rocks for that matter. If you were eating, then you were pretty well off.
So like I was saying, Mr. Caveman is getting fat and happy when Ms. Cavewoman comes along. Ms. Cavewoman is very hungry, and wants some of that nice triceratops steak, so she comes into the cave. Mr. Caveman is so happy to have some company that he willingly shares some of his hard-earned meat with her. Never mind the fact that she is nearly as hairy as he is, and could probably beat up lots of today's full grown men in a dark ally. There are many hand gestures and grunts involved, but I will leave those to your own imagination. From then on, Ms. Cavewoman began to come over to Mr. Caveman's cave more often because he gave her some food that one time. Maybe he was a nice cave man, maybe not--but she still got what she wanted. Whether or not they live happily ever after is a moot point because we have reached the end of my literary illustration.
We saw that Mr. Caveman was willing to trade some of his hard earned meat for Ms. Cavewoman's company. We, as all-knowing historical anthropologists, look at this situation and know for a fact (If you don't beleive me, go re-read the above paragraph) that Ms. Cavewoman kept coming over because he gave her some meat, not because there was some mystical attraction between the two of them that made them fall in love and bear forth many children to populate the earth. Mr. Caveman, not being a historical anthropoligist like we are, doesn't think about her true motives--he is just happy to be hanging around Ms. Cavewoman.
Before the story, you will recall that I was saying that power and money and fame are all means to an end. People don't seem to understand this. They think that they will be happy once they get all of these, but they are wrong.
While I used a somewhat humorous story to try and get a very serious point across, it still has some valid information. Subconciously, people associate power and money and fame, etc. with being loved, because their subconcious associates all of those things with having people around you. People know that others like to be around people who give them things, so they think that by having lots of things, people will want to be around them more. This is true in a certain sense, but in reality they are cheating themselves. They are surrounding themselves with people who do not truly want to be around them, but the things that they have.
People say that they want power, and money, and fame, but what they ultimately want is to be loved. To have someone who GETS them. People want to be understood, to have someone they can tell anything to and who will help them through anything. Someone who will ask them why they are crying, and then not get angry when the answer given is "nothing". Someone to laugh with them at stupid things, then cry over the sad ones. Someone to whisper secrets to at night, and sing loudly with from a mountain top. Someone to just be near them and be with them because they want to be.
They not only want this for themselves, but to be the reciprocal of it in the other person's life. For the most part, people don't even truly understand this until they gain what they thought they had been seeking, and find that there is another peak beyond the one they have just climbed. There is another award to get, another car to buy, another wife to marry. Think to yourself, what is it that you truly want. Do you place value on riches or influence, or the people that want to be around you because you are you, not because of what you have?
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Curious Strangers
Strangers are interesting people. Sometimes they are nice, sometimes they are mean. Sometimes normal acting and sometimes strange acting. Sometimes ugly, sometimes good looking, and sometimes, good looking til you get a little bit closer. Above all else, strangers are curious and easily entertained. As a rule of thumb, people are interested in things that they don't know about. Everyone has a little bit of Curious George in them. They always think they are so investigative and observant, but you really have them in the palm of your hand if you have something interesting. Of course, there are the outliers, but if you show someone something amazing that they have never seen before, you are likely to be their best friend until that amazing thing becomes normal.
Take for example, my bullwhip. As of late, I have become intrigued by the sport of whip cracking. (I use the term 'sport' loosely. Perhaps 'pastime" is a better word) I won't go into all the reasons why I enjoy it, but the main reason that I like it is because it is loud. I'm a guy, guy's like loud noises--we'll leave it at that. Because it is so loud, my neighbors have taken to muttering at me whenever I pull it out, so I have begun taking it to a secret secluded location so as not to disturb them. This secret secluded location, while secluded and very secret, is not void of all human life, and there are the occasional joggers, hikers, dog-walkers, bmx-ers, or pot-smokers who come to enjoy the secret secluded scenery.
If I were standing in my secret secluded location whistling a jolly tune, reading a book, eating a sandwich, or sleeping, I am very sure that I wouldn't get so much as a peek from these lovely passers-by. (unless I was eating a sandwich as a pot-smoker passed me). That is because all of these activities are completely normal and socially acceptable. Whip cracking is very abnormal. I personally have never seen another person crack a whip in real life in my entire existence (Except those who I have let borrow my own for a brief moment). Needless to say, I get very strange looks, and people who I am sure would have no reason to ever talk to me if I had not piqued their curiosity, well...talk to me.
Over the past few days, I have begun to keep track of all the people who have talked to me, and what they have said or done, as well as the people who have suspiciously peered at me, and then kept their distance or gone on their way.
First, there was the stroller-pushing jogger-mom. She had two kids with her, one was being jostled around in a stroller which she was trying to push over the very bumpy dirt path, and one was on a leash. I'm not kidding. I'm not sure which kid was more uncomfortable actually. As she rounded the path I visibly saw her slow down and her eyes got extremely wide. The little kid on the leash was turning his head back and forth, no doubt looking for the thing that was making the loud noises because, surely it couldn't be the strange man in front of him, holding the long string. She went from her jog to a forced walk, and it almost looked like she wanted to turn around and run away, but I quickly rolled up my whip and turned on my pretend-friendly face. "What is that thing?" were the first words that came out of her mouth. I looked at the whip, then looked at her, then looked at the whip, then back at her and said. "It's a whip." She looked like she genuinely didn't know what a whip was. "Oh wow." The closer she got to me, the slower her pace got, until she got past me, and then started running really fast again. Little leash kid was kinda getting dragged along, but he didn't seem to mind cause he was still looking for the loud noise maker.
To my suprise, she actually came back the same way a few minutes later. Little leash kid was off his leash now, and had been spying on me from between two bushes for a couple minutes. His mouth was literally open and he kept looking back from me to his mom, and back to me. The kid in the stroller looked like he was about to throw up cause of the bumpiness. Jogger-mom must have come to the conclusion that I was alright to talk to because I didn't attack her on her first walk by, so as she jogged by again, she said, "Wow, that is totally cool!" I wanted to chase after little leash kid and scare him, but I thought better of it.
The second memorable experience I had was with two old people. By old, I mean somewhere between 40 and decrepit. As they came around the bend with their dog, their faces didn't visible change. The couple walked straight up to me, no fear in their eyes, smiled and asked how my day was going. I was suprised because for the most part, old people are timid and scared of everything, but these people were brave. Then, the man told me that whip cracking was a lost art. That made me super stoked. They actually werent very interesting other than that. Their hearing aids must not have been working, because the whip cracking didn't seem to be bothering them.
Strangers are really funny because when they are checking something new out, they always think they are extremely sneaky. I can't count how many joggers have run by pretending not to notice me, just like whip-cracking is the most normal occurance in the world. They might even have whips of their own that they crack a few times every morning, just to wake up it seems so normal to them. What gives them away is the fact that they pretend not to watch, but they go significantly slower when they are near me than when they are coming up to, or leaving me, and they are also peering at me out of the corner of their eyes. Dog Girl is a prime example. She literally made four passes around my little clearing in the field before walking through the middle to investigate from a closer angle. She thought, of course, that because she was outside of my clearing that I couldn't actually see her walking circles around me. The whole time, her head was pointed straight ahead in front of her, though it was easy to see that her eyes were pointed sideways to see the strange phenomenon. After she went through the clearing, she made another couple passes until she convinced herself that her curiosity was placated, and then walked away. She did, however stop a couple times and pretend that her dog was peeing on a tree so that she could turn around and watch again. It was easy to tell that she was faking the dog pee though cause the dog kept on trying to walk down the path and she was holding the leash so that it couldn't go anywhere.
While I have had many experiences with people walking by and making strange comments and giving me weird looks, the final one I will share with you took place from a distance. From across the field, I could see a bike rider starting to go up a small hill. As he neared, the top, I gave my whip a particularly hearty crack. It must have startled him because his head spun around looking for the source of the loud noice and he nearly fell off his bike. He managed to barely recover before sticking his foot on the ground and stopping, getting off his bike, putting the kickstand down, taking off his helmet, and watching me for a full three minutes. While I never actually spoke a word to him, or he to me, there was definitely a mental connection between the two of us. He was enamored by this new and exciting experience, and I was glad to perform my meager skills for him.
How often do you go up to a random person and talk to them, or how often do you have random people come up to you? People, curious as they are, do not like to leave their comfort zones, and the curiosity has to outweigh the risk factor for the stranger-barrier to be broken. Once it is broken, new amazing things can be found, so don't be afraid to go talk to that bum, street-performer, or whip-cracker--it might just be me. A word of advice though--just go for it, don't pretend like it is normal and try to watch it from a distance. You might think that you are being the observer, but more than likely you are being watched by your quarry, and you look pretty dumb.
Take for example, my bullwhip. As of late, I have become intrigued by the sport of whip cracking. (I use the term 'sport' loosely. Perhaps 'pastime" is a better word) I won't go into all the reasons why I enjoy it, but the main reason that I like it is because it is loud. I'm a guy, guy's like loud noises--we'll leave it at that. Because it is so loud, my neighbors have taken to muttering at me whenever I pull it out, so I have begun taking it to a secret secluded location so as not to disturb them. This secret secluded location, while secluded and very secret, is not void of all human life, and there are the occasional joggers, hikers, dog-walkers, bmx-ers, or pot-smokers who come to enjoy the secret secluded scenery.
If I were standing in my secret secluded location whistling a jolly tune, reading a book, eating a sandwich, or sleeping, I am very sure that I wouldn't get so much as a peek from these lovely passers-by. (unless I was eating a sandwich as a pot-smoker passed me). That is because all of these activities are completely normal and socially acceptable. Whip cracking is very abnormal. I personally have never seen another person crack a whip in real life in my entire existence (Except those who I have let borrow my own for a brief moment). Needless to say, I get very strange looks, and people who I am sure would have no reason to ever talk to me if I had not piqued their curiosity, well...talk to me.
Over the past few days, I have begun to keep track of all the people who have talked to me, and what they have said or done, as well as the people who have suspiciously peered at me, and then kept their distance or gone on their way.
First, there was the stroller-pushing jogger-mom. She had two kids with her, one was being jostled around in a stroller which she was trying to push over the very bumpy dirt path, and one was on a leash. I'm not kidding. I'm not sure which kid was more uncomfortable actually. As she rounded the path I visibly saw her slow down and her eyes got extremely wide. The little kid on the leash was turning his head back and forth, no doubt looking for the thing that was making the loud noises because, surely it couldn't be the strange man in front of him, holding the long string. She went from her jog to a forced walk, and it almost looked like she wanted to turn around and run away, but I quickly rolled up my whip and turned on my pretend-friendly face. "What is that thing?" were the first words that came out of her mouth. I looked at the whip, then looked at her, then looked at the whip, then back at her and said. "It's a whip." She looked like she genuinely didn't know what a whip was. "Oh wow." The closer she got to me, the slower her pace got, until she got past me, and then started running really fast again. Little leash kid was kinda getting dragged along, but he didn't seem to mind cause he was still looking for the loud noise maker.
To my suprise, she actually came back the same way a few minutes later. Little leash kid was off his leash now, and had been spying on me from between two bushes for a couple minutes. His mouth was literally open and he kept looking back from me to his mom, and back to me. The kid in the stroller looked like he was about to throw up cause of the bumpiness. Jogger-mom must have come to the conclusion that I was alright to talk to because I didn't attack her on her first walk by, so as she jogged by again, she said, "Wow, that is totally cool!" I wanted to chase after little leash kid and scare him, but I thought better of it.
The second memorable experience I had was with two old people. By old, I mean somewhere between 40 and decrepit. As they came around the bend with their dog, their faces didn't visible change. The couple walked straight up to me, no fear in their eyes, smiled and asked how my day was going. I was suprised because for the most part, old people are timid and scared of everything, but these people were brave. Then, the man told me that whip cracking was a lost art. That made me super stoked. They actually werent very interesting other than that. Their hearing aids must not have been working, because the whip cracking didn't seem to be bothering them.
Strangers are really funny because when they are checking something new out, they always think they are extremely sneaky. I can't count how many joggers have run by pretending not to notice me, just like whip-cracking is the most normal occurance in the world. They might even have whips of their own that they crack a few times every morning, just to wake up it seems so normal to them. What gives them away is the fact that they pretend not to watch, but they go significantly slower when they are near me than when they are coming up to, or leaving me, and they are also peering at me out of the corner of their eyes. Dog Girl is a prime example. She literally made four passes around my little clearing in the field before walking through the middle to investigate from a closer angle. She thought, of course, that because she was outside of my clearing that I couldn't actually see her walking circles around me. The whole time, her head was pointed straight ahead in front of her, though it was easy to see that her eyes were pointed sideways to see the strange phenomenon. After she went through the clearing, she made another couple passes until she convinced herself that her curiosity was placated, and then walked away. She did, however stop a couple times and pretend that her dog was peeing on a tree so that she could turn around and watch again. It was easy to tell that she was faking the dog pee though cause the dog kept on trying to walk down the path and she was holding the leash so that it couldn't go anywhere.
While I have had many experiences with people walking by and making strange comments and giving me weird looks, the final one I will share with you took place from a distance. From across the field, I could see a bike rider starting to go up a small hill. As he neared, the top, I gave my whip a particularly hearty crack. It must have startled him because his head spun around looking for the source of the loud noice and he nearly fell off his bike. He managed to barely recover before sticking his foot on the ground and stopping, getting off his bike, putting the kickstand down, taking off his helmet, and watching me for a full three minutes. While I never actually spoke a word to him, or he to me, there was definitely a mental connection between the two of us. He was enamored by this new and exciting experience, and I was glad to perform my meager skills for him.
How often do you go up to a random person and talk to them, or how often do you have random people come up to you? People, curious as they are, do not like to leave their comfort zones, and the curiosity has to outweigh the risk factor for the stranger-barrier to be broken. Once it is broken, new amazing things can be found, so don't be afraid to go talk to that bum, street-performer, or whip-cracker--it might just be me. A word of advice though--just go for it, don't pretend like it is normal and try to watch it from a distance. You might think that you are being the observer, but more than likely you are being watched by your quarry, and you look pretty dumb.
Friday, September 2, 2011
The Rawness of Art
Art is a form of communication; it explains to others what spoken words cannot, or dare not. An admirer might paint a beautiful picture of a flower for the subject of their admiration, yet never give a real one. Art is an outlet of emotion from which springs the essence of ones soul. It lets other's see, hear, touch, or read what you are experiencing inside, because our feelings are nearly impossible to communicate with our inept language. Painting, Sculpting, Movies, Dance, Writing. I find it ironic then that I have chosen writing, our pathetic language, as my art form; you are now receiving pieces of my soul.
Some people tell me, "...your writing is so depressing. Why do you always write this way?" I have thought about it and my conclusion is that art comes from the soul; what the soul is feeling. I write because I feel something. When I write out of boredom, or if I force myself to, to simply put words on the page, the words are dull, boring and meaningless. When I write from my soul, they at least make the reader get a taste of what I am feeling, even if the feelings are dark, dismal and depressing. My blogs are not simply random ideas that pop into my mind which I quickly jot out and throw onto a web page so a few people who are stuck in a rut of boredom can skim then go onto the next blog, or the next web page, or the next hobby. I write so that I can express myself to myself because even I don't understand my own emotions sometimes, or where they come from. Even if I do understand their beginnings and origins, sometimes real life has frustrated them so much that the only way to express my emotions is by showing them for the world to see. For you to see.
So there you have it. You few readers, whether I know you or not. You are getting a taste of my life by reading these words. My moods are reflected upon the page and immortalized upon the web so that I can look back upon them and remember what my life was like in the past. I write the mood that I am in, whether it be pensive, lonely, humorous, or lost. You are not merely reading some white words on a dark background, you are seeing my life through a magnifying glass as I felt when I authored these words. You are peering into my soul. You know me.
Some people tell me, "...your writing is so depressing. Why do you always write this way?" I have thought about it and my conclusion is that art comes from the soul; what the soul is feeling. I write because I feel something. When I write out of boredom, or if I force myself to, to simply put words on the page, the words are dull, boring and meaningless. When I write from my soul, they at least make the reader get a taste of what I am feeling, even if the feelings are dark, dismal and depressing. My blogs are not simply random ideas that pop into my mind which I quickly jot out and throw onto a web page so a few people who are stuck in a rut of boredom can skim then go onto the next blog, or the next web page, or the next hobby. I write so that I can express myself to myself because even I don't understand my own emotions sometimes, or where they come from. Even if I do understand their beginnings and origins, sometimes real life has frustrated them so much that the only way to express my emotions is by showing them for the world to see. For you to see.
So there you have it. You few readers, whether I know you or not. You are getting a taste of my life by reading these words. My moods are reflected upon the page and immortalized upon the web so that I can look back upon them and remember what my life was like in the past. I write the mood that I am in, whether it be pensive, lonely, humorous, or lost. You are not merely reading some white words on a dark background, you are seeing my life through a magnifying glass as I felt when I authored these words. You are peering into my soul. You know me.
The Children and the Adults
What differentiates a boy from a Man, and a girl from a Woman? This question has entered everyone's mind at some point or another, the real underlying question probing the person being, "Am I a man yet?", or "Am I a Woman yet?"
There are physical characteristics of the body as it matures which generally are associated with Manhood and Womanhood, yet I have personally found that these physical characteristics come much quicker than the emotional and mental characteristics which, to me, signify the true coming of Manhood and Womanhood.
I am no female, yet the observations I have made give me the following conclusions. Girls want to be noticed. They want to be chased after by boys. They want to have boys fight over them and so they use jealousy as a tool. Girls like the mean boys, the boys who will do anything to get what they want because Girls feel worth something when boys fight over them.They want to be doted upon and have things bought for them and be told how pretty they are. Girls want what they can't have and will do anything to get it. They gossip and glare, flick their hair and spray obnoxious amounts of perfume in the air. Some things that girls do, or are looking for, in and of themselves are in no way bad and are important parts of healthy relationships, but most girls are looking for self-validation in the wrong place and in the wrong way. They are looking for self-validation through boys.
Boys want girls. It is engrained in biology and while the desires aren't bad, the actions based on these motives are immature. Boys want girls to be surrounding them and touching them. Boys want more than one girl; they make girls who reject them feel bad about themselves, and pick fights with other boys over girls. Boys will stop at nothing to get what feels good and makes them feel good about themselves. Boys pretend to be what they arent--they haven't figured out who they are supposed to be yet so they put on different faces to please those around them. Boys do not show emotion because they think emotion is weak.
Women are different. A Woman will never purposefully use jealousy as a tool to gain affection. A Woman understands that she cannot always be doted upon and that her beauty is not only a gift, but a curse than can fuel fires of hate. They have it, preserve it, do not neglect it, and are grateful for it, but do not needlessly flaunt it. A Woman understands that she can't have everything that she wants, but sometimes must be self-sacrificial. Women do not like the jerk boys because they do not need validation from someone so immature; they don't like the boys who chase them for their looks, but the Men who strive to truly know them.
True Women like the true Men. The Men who are leaders and do what is responsible, not what gives them instant gratification. The Men who know who they are and who they want to be, yet still understand that love is willing to change for love. The Women don't love the boys who show no emotion, they love the Men who control their emotions, the Men who in the face of fear show know fear, even if it fills them. The Men who cry not because they want pity, but because the bottling up of emotions leads to rage and jealousy. The Men who admit weakness because admitting weakness is the first step to conquering it. The Men who do what needs to be done even if it is uncomfortable or difficult. A Woman loves the Man who wants them not only because they are attractive but because the true Men know that love takes two grown-up, mature people who are ready and willing to make sacrifices for one another.
To put it bluntly, people are mature when they are ready to truly and selflessly love another. They are mature when they are no longer looking for the petty attractions of boys and girls, but the mutual love of a Man and a Woman. The love that gives and takes equally. The love that says, "Life is hard, but I will put aside my wants for your wants, my needs for your needs, and together we can make it."
There are physical characteristics of the body as it matures which generally are associated with Manhood and Womanhood, yet I have personally found that these physical characteristics come much quicker than the emotional and mental characteristics which, to me, signify the true coming of Manhood and Womanhood.
I am no female, yet the observations I have made give me the following conclusions. Girls want to be noticed. They want to be chased after by boys. They want to have boys fight over them and so they use jealousy as a tool. Girls like the mean boys, the boys who will do anything to get what they want because Girls feel worth something when boys fight over them.They want to be doted upon and have things bought for them and be told how pretty they are. Girls want what they can't have and will do anything to get it. They gossip and glare, flick their hair and spray obnoxious amounts of perfume in the air. Some things that girls do, or are looking for, in and of themselves are in no way bad and are important parts of healthy relationships, but most girls are looking for self-validation in the wrong place and in the wrong way. They are looking for self-validation through boys.
Boys want girls. It is engrained in biology and while the desires aren't bad, the actions based on these motives are immature. Boys want girls to be surrounding them and touching them. Boys want more than one girl; they make girls who reject them feel bad about themselves, and pick fights with other boys over girls. Boys will stop at nothing to get what feels good and makes them feel good about themselves. Boys pretend to be what they arent--they haven't figured out who they are supposed to be yet so they put on different faces to please those around them. Boys do not show emotion because they think emotion is weak.
Women are different. A Woman will never purposefully use jealousy as a tool to gain affection. A Woman understands that she cannot always be doted upon and that her beauty is not only a gift, but a curse than can fuel fires of hate. They have it, preserve it, do not neglect it, and are grateful for it, but do not needlessly flaunt it. A Woman understands that she can't have everything that she wants, but sometimes must be self-sacrificial. Women do not like the jerk boys because they do not need validation from someone so immature; they don't like the boys who chase them for their looks, but the Men who strive to truly know them.
True Women like the true Men. The Men who are leaders and do what is responsible, not what gives them instant gratification. The Men who know who they are and who they want to be, yet still understand that love is willing to change for love. The Women don't love the boys who show no emotion, they love the Men who control their emotions, the Men who in the face of fear show know fear, even if it fills them. The Men who cry not because they want pity, but because the bottling up of emotions leads to rage and jealousy. The Men who admit weakness because admitting weakness is the first step to conquering it. The Men who do what needs to be done even if it is uncomfortable or difficult. A Woman loves the Man who wants them not only because they are attractive but because the true Men know that love takes two grown-up, mature people who are ready and willing to make sacrifices for one another.
To put it bluntly, people are mature when they are ready to truly and selflessly love another. They are mature when they are no longer looking for the petty attractions of boys and girls, but the mutual love of a Man and a Woman. The love that gives and takes equally. The love that says, "Life is hard, but I will put aside my wants for your wants, my needs for your needs, and together we can make it."
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