Truth and Sincerity

In today's postmodern society, we tend to value sincerity over Truth. To this I say that just as Truth without sincerity is like an ass in the garb of a lion, so is sincerity without Truth like a king feeding on ashes, or a scholar educating himself on nursery rhymes, or a lemming following its brothers to death. Both are lamentable folly.

John 3:21 "Whoever lives by the truth will come into the light"

Ephesians 5:8-9
Ephesians 6:10-17
Romans 1:18-25
Titus 2:7-8
1 Corinthians 5:8
Phillipians 1:9-10
Joshua 24:14

As the Deer Panteth for the Water

Today I was praying: God I want to need You like I need water or breath. But how unconscious our desire of water and breath are! We only notice them in their absence; in fact we only truly desire them in their absence. In my relationship with God thus far, I have learned one thing for certain: God cannot be contained by anything, especially not by any solitary definition. God is my breath certainly, and my water. But He is not limited by thee roles. What would I be but a presumptuous jailer if I tried to keep God from being anything more to me? He permeates every need and every desire. His role is the fulfilment of all of them not just one. He is breath, bread, water, friend, father, mother, lover, reprimand and comfort. Or at least He should be.

Really Almost More of a Poem Fragment

Thoughts Like Shoving My Finger in a Pencil Sharpener

They take root

Clutching my pelvic floor

Extending upward

And outward

Stretching past my fingertips

And branching into the air

As I wave my arms

Desperately to sever

Every creeping tendril

Forming an intoxicating canopy

Like a willow weeping over me

A Tentative Poem

Please criticize. The title is uncertain and very changeable.

When I Meets Me

I swallowed myself up
A fish down by the riverbed
A fly flying over my head
I watched myself, I stalked myself
Flying alone above my head.

I flew above the grass and reeds
Fellowshipping with the trees
Alone and free and buzzing down to see
The fish swimming in the clear, clean water.
The shimmering silver of their fins beckoned me
Hundreds of glimmering badges of conformity
Lower and lower I flew entranced
Until my feet were stirring the water.
As I looked a fish broke away
From the homogenous sheet below her
A fish I didn't recognize but
I somehow seemed to know her.
She opened up her monstrous maw so widely
And suddenly I was drowning
No air, no light and liberty only
To fling my fighting body against the blackness.

I swallowed myself up
I, a fish down by the riverbed
Me, the fly inside me dead
The objections in my belly stifled.
Sinking swiftly I join the swimming school
Quietly shimmering, glimmering just like me.

Fucking Hell

Today I told someone that I don’t think baseball is a sport. I realize that statement is somewhat controversial, and my thinking that is partly due to the way I was raised, my participation in track and field in high school, and the kind of people I knew who played baseball. Those elements combine (along with a small amount of logic and personal definition) to create my idea that baseball is indeed a game and not a sport. Honestly, even though I believe this, I know that it is not wrong or stupid for someone else to think baseball is a sport. I don’t really care that much and it’s not something I think about all the time. I also don’t really think the term “game” is an inherently offensive one (especially since most sports are also games) and any anger caused by my saying that baseball is a game is unfounded, since I don’t really think less of baseball for being so.

Anyway, today when I said that I think baseball is a game, two of my close friends became angry with me and stopped talking to me. I don’t really know what else to say except that I feel a little bit like crying and I have one question: what kind of world do we live in when friends are ready to hurt each other and defend the definition of a game or a sport or whatever the fucking hell it is, and yet they’ll never open their mouths about the things they should be angry/worried/offended/vocal about.

All I know is my face is hot and my heart is hurting and I'm so sorry for what I've done.

Love Has Many... Aspects (I mean that word the way Jane Austen used it when she wrote about faces)

Observe the many looks of love. Sometimes your eyes can be closed and love still shows through clearly as if the largest, clearest window ever made were placed right in front of the lover's soul. This particular phenomenon can be clearly seen in the last picture on this post starring Travis Alan Dykes and Neil Brian Cooney. The first and second pictures depict Lauren Gray Karnes, Samuel Joseph Palladino, Travis Alan Dykes and Kelsey Michelle Bell (myself) respectively.

The Final Piece

This week has been kind of slow creatively. I have, however, finished what may be the final piece of my room: the goofy origami mobile that is pictured below.

MY! Room

So I have for the first time in my life I have had full control over the decoration of my room, the only limit being my meager budget. The furniture was free! and I probably only spent a total of $75 on bedding, paint, fabric, and knicknacks. The tank on my desk is the home of dear little Parsley Snape, my baby corn snake. Hooray pictures!
Thank you to Travis, Danya and Bethany for helping me.

Well, Here Goes Nothing

Ok so this is the video i decided on. It is quite embarrassing. You can just hear the song from Glee playing in the background so I don't forget the words, but I still forget them like twice. Anyway, here it goes. It's pretty melodramatic. I hope you don't have very high expectations...

Creativity Born from Necessity (and Selfishness)

So I was feeling creative the other day and also like I needed a headband to match my outfit, so I whipped this little thing up in a few minutes. All it took was some spare yarn I had and my crocheting needle!

On a slightly more frivolous note (if that is at all possible) I'm thinking of starting to post videos of myself singing, like Rachel Berry so obnoxiously does on Glee. I might be a little too obsessed with Glee... no I'm not obsessed. I just really, really like it... inordinately. Anyway, if I'm honest with myself, most of the reason why I would want to do such a thing is the same reason Rachel does it: for approval, validation of her talent, and hopefully, applause. For me however, that is not the sole reason. I am aware that if I did post video of me singing no one might ever comment, validate, or otherwise acknowledge that video whatsoever. I have always been afraid of singing in front of people the way I sing behind closed doors in my house. I just want to be able to be the same all the time you know? I have a slightly reckless tendency to rebel against fear in my life; heck, my motto is that you should always do the things you're afraid of, so what kind of hypocrite would i be if I didn't do just that? So, my follower(s), expect a video of my singing which you can praise, ridicule, or ignore for the rest of the life of the internet soon.

A First Poem of Mid Level Profundity

Even though I desire to accompany this poem with an explanation, I won't. I want this poem to stand on it's own. An artist doesn't travel around with his paintings in order to explain them. Good art should speak on its own, and that is what I aspire to create, so here is an attempt.

Aesthetic Distance and Invasive Camera Angles

We lined up to carve our marks in the tender bark of her

Soul tree. If her soul is a tree. At first I thought it was like me:

Cold, hard, shiny and stain resistant like steel.

I wonder if I should feel bad now that I know it wasn’t;

That I wrecked it the first time I shouldered past all the “hers”

Except the one who was only a collection of soft, pleasing curves.

Hello

Hello. All I can say is I hope this blog doesn't become a way to continually stroke my ego. So if you decide to follow, maybe you can insult me sometimes.
Just kidding, I think honesty is the best track.
See ya.