on my trip to Louisiana some time back I wrote a letter, from my 5th generation, (great-great-great-grandson. I think,) to the Andrew of today. I'd like to share that with you soon. not today. Among other things that letter urged me to to take lightly the problems of today. here is my response. I must write this today.
Most treasured descendent,
I feel I must write you to explain myself. I hear your wishes for me to rise above my problems, but I feel I must write them before I can properly see them.
I feel connected. to this moment. I feel no space. where is the space. I read about finding the center, and looking for the space, to distant yourself from each moment, so that you may live it, and enjoy it, respond to it, but not react to it. to distance the I from my self. from my ego. from the phenomenal world that my mind projects. I can't find it today though. I can't feel that space. I'm stuck, with glue, to this moment, and to this feeling, and that thought. I AM this moment, I AM that thought. I am this feeling. husband. business owner. that's a big one lately. I am a business owner. I feel that. no space. and thus, with the ups and downs with every day, I swing as well. I tell myself I'm not worried. I tell others I'm not worried when we're down. but I am. because I am that down swing. and thus, I am that failure. and I know that an up swing will come, but it doesn't soften the blow I feel in that moment.
I want to provide for my family. I am that ability. and I can't right now. and I am that failure as well. I want to take my wife away. I want to let her travel, to set her free like she talks about. I feel that's my responsibility. I am that responsibility. and I am that failure.
I want to talk to people about what's in side me. but not for the joy. not for the story telling. for the attention. to feel that rush to be wanted. to hide those other things I feel. if everyone's looking at me, I'm too busy to look inside. even saying that, I know when I look inside, I first see the failure, then I see past that to the truth. but in this moment, I'm bogged down. I can't find that 2nd level. I can't see past the looming weight of what I feel in this moment. I am that weight.
I don't feel free. I feel pressure. I feel weight. it makes me short. sharp. my temper doesn't last long. after 2 hours at work I'm angry. tired. so tired. always tired. colors are dull. only because I can't see them. I'm a walking cliche.
I'm sick. feel like smoking. can't. it'll just make it worst. I'm alone again. feels good. I'm always alone, and never alone. I'm alone all the time and I don't feel it. then I do and I'm lonely. then there are people around and I want time to myself.
Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep Little Lion Man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
That you made in your own head
this song rings in me. I am little. and scared. I can't find my way out of these feelings. the space is there, outside the door. but if I go to the door, it'll be one step further. always one more step.
so I ask you. how can I escape this? how can I see past mySelf? how do I set aside these small things and see the now?
Friday, May 27, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
I spread my dreams at your feet
Growing up, my dad taught me how to journal. He said it's counterproductive to stop and edit, spell-check, and revise. instead, let the writing flow, and ignore penmanship, spell-check, etc. don't let the pen stop writing. it doesn't matter if you're writing "I can't think of anything else to write." These days, I don't find myself writing often, but when I do, this helps. so, un-edited, here comes a journal entry I wrote on a recent trip to Louisiana.
I see my Father, stretching to the sky. I see him spreading his arms, that I may sit beneath them. I feel the ground underneath me, in which his roots grow. I see his symbiotic relationship with all around him. I see those that come before him, lying around me. I see his sons, my brothers, surrounding me. I see his wounds, and how he grew through them.
I place my hand on him, saying "My name is Andrew Harbuck, I am the one who comes to you, heart, head and ears full of chaos to share. I am here to tell my story." So I do. The beginnings. The mistakes. the wounds. the struggle for forgiveness of myself. the triumphs and the pride. the longings for peace.
Then I listen. I slap his trunk to listen to the echo. I see him. I see his long line. I feel small. I am a part of something. not a movement. not a network or an organization. a community. there are no words. an energy. a place. I'm a tiny part of a place. I feel this is the answer. I worry so much about my path. But I am a thread in a pattern. I must be aware of those threads around me. that I don't make the pattern. I am not Judged on my thread.
He invites me to see what he sees. The beauty of every living part. to feel the presence of those before and after me. He invites me to make shade, to share my strengths and wounds with all. Just as he does. to feel the breeze, all I have to do is stand up. That is the future. to feel the ground, all i have to do is lie down. This is those that came before me. to feel the sun, all I have to do is sit. this is all in the Now.
I see my Father, stretching to the sky. I see him spreading his arms, that I may sit beneath them. I feel the ground underneath me, in which his roots grow. I see his symbiotic relationship with all around him. I see those that come before him, lying around me. I see his sons, my brothers, surrounding me. I see his wounds, and how he grew through them.
I place my hand on him, saying "My name is Andrew Harbuck, I am the one who comes to you, heart, head and ears full of chaos to share. I am here to tell my story." So I do. The beginnings. The mistakes. the wounds. the struggle for forgiveness of myself. the triumphs and the pride. the longings for peace.
Then I listen. I slap his trunk to listen to the echo. I see him. I see his long line. I feel small. I am a part of something. not a movement. not a network or an organization. a community. there are no words. an energy. a place. I'm a tiny part of a place. I feel this is the answer. I worry so much about my path. But I am a thread in a pattern. I must be aware of those threads around me. that I don't make the pattern. I am not Judged on my thread.
He invites me to see what he sees. The beauty of every living part. to feel the presence of those before and after me. He invites me to make shade, to share my strengths and wounds with all. Just as he does. to feel the breeze, all I have to do is stand up. That is the future. to feel the ground, all i have to do is lie down. This is those that came before me. to feel the sun, all I have to do is sit. this is all in the Now.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
In my short days on this earth, I've met on two angels. my view of angels is very specific. different from saints. my mother is a saint, but no angel. to me an angel has a very definite feel to them. when you meet one you can tell. it's the attitude, the smile, the laugh, the lightness of one's step, the grace. I've never been in an angel's presence and been depressed. the angels I've met are the most free spirits I've ever been around. I'm sure they have all the struggles the rest of us have, but the care-free spirit they live is enthralling.
I've just found out one of these angels, also one of my closest friends, has gotten engaged to be married. I find myself feeling a mixture of happiness and depression. I'm so happy she will have some one to rely on, to help her when she needs it, to enjoy life with. the depression is more of a mystery to me. I think it may have to do with the pain that comes with love as well. the thought of the ugly times of true loves happening to this person makes me so completely sad. however, I don't feel that's the only thing that's making me sad. I just can't tell what else. it's something in my own head, but I can't tell what. so I'm just trying to sit with it.
to my friend K, I wish you the happiest life imaginable. I hope you never lose your child-likeness. you have always represented true beauty for me.
I've just found out one of these angels, also one of my closest friends, has gotten engaged to be married. I find myself feeling a mixture of happiness and depression. I'm so happy she will have some one to rely on, to help her when she needs it, to enjoy life with. the depression is more of a mystery to me. I think it may have to do with the pain that comes with love as well. the thought of the ugly times of true loves happening to this person makes me so completely sad. however, I don't feel that's the only thing that's making me sad. I just can't tell what else. it's something in my own head, but I can't tell what. so I'm just trying to sit with it.
to my friend K, I wish you the happiest life imaginable. I hope you never lose your child-likeness. you have always represented true beauty for me.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Hope
This blog was written in a hurry, on my way out the door to work. any positions or ideas contained therein may not be expressed how I'd like. the reality of the story is I had a conversation with a wonderful person this morning, and that's all it was. a conversation.
Most mornings I go up to Starbucks, and sit with Ben for our morning coffee/smoke. Some mornings we are joined by others, most notably Bill, an older gentleman that we met at starbucks, and often sits to talk with us.
This morning was different, as all are. this one especially though, followed a different path. I got up to Starbucks around 11am, Bill and Ben were already there. Ben has met some Jehovah Witnesses earlier, and for a few minutes we talked about some papers they had given him. our conversation went on, with many different subjects, but around 20 minutes later a lady that had been sitting at an adjacent table walked over and asked what we were talking about. we'll call her Hope. Hope had been listing and was wondering our purpose for talking, and our subject. we explained we talk about many things, and she sat down and wanted to talk. she explained she was unhappy. Hope asked about friends, and if we had any true friends. friends we could go to when life was at it's darkest. it became clear quickly that she was at the point. the darkest time she'd been in, and she felt like dying, because heaven would be better. Hope had no friends, no one to turn to. she was learning that all her "friends" were only there when times were good, but now that they weren't, she was alone. Hope isn't married, she only have a 17 year old daughter she raises by herself. Hope was not raised in America, judging by her accent she is German.
Anyway, we talked for about an hour and a half. Hope is a beautiful woman. she explained she is suffering because she's alone. she had no real friends. she has no point in life. she does her best to be a good person, she loves others, cares for them, and they call her names and words that aren't nice. they say she's old fashioned, rude, nasty, and evil. these things hurt Hope, and she was beginning to doubt the point of living. she talked about how there's no real people that are honest. no one she could trust. she is very lonely. she asked Ben about his relationship, and if he trusted his wife. Ben said yes, of course. Hope asked what if Ben's wife had cheated on him, or left him. Ben said he'd be hurt, but he loved his wife, unconditionally, and these things would not stop him from loving her. Hope looked at been and shook her head back and forth. denying. she laughed and said many women would like to have Ben, but Ben didn't have love. Ben couldn't have love if he still loved his wife if she did those things. "That's not love. If she does those things you get a divorce, that's how it works."
we asked Hope why she was suffering. she said she didn't belong to this world. she was searching for herself. we pointed out that she was looking outward, always outward for who she was. in the reactions to her actions. she showed loved and was rewarded with mockery and hate. so she doubted her love. also, Hope said she was ugly. she said when she walks on the street and a man looks at her, her thought is "I must have something horrible on my face for him to look at me. I'm too ugly to look at normally, so there must be something truly nasty on me for him to look my way." this thought floored me. that amount of self hate is astounding. I'm not surprised it exists, but I've never encountered it. Hope is not ugly. Hope is a beautiful person, inside and out. Hope takes her thoughts as fact. when we asked her if she is ugly, she says yes. we disagree, she shakes her head. we asked her if she has to be married to be happy, she says yes. we disagree, and she shakes her head. she lives on a foundations of undeniable of facts, that make up her life, and cause her to suffer. these facts are not real facts, just thoughts and beliefs her mind gives her. we asked her if she is living, if her heart is breathing. she says her heart beats, but she doesn't live. nothing is inside, just a living body. Hope is dead.
I hope to talk to her more. Hope is hurting, struggling through life. I can't help her. no one can. Only Hope. only by loving herself, accepting what is, is she going to make progress. she has walls up, and no one can bring them down but her. I love Hope. She's an amazing loving human being. maybe we'll talk again.
Most mornings I go up to Starbucks, and sit with Ben for our morning coffee/smoke. Some mornings we are joined by others, most notably Bill, an older gentleman that we met at starbucks, and often sits to talk with us.
This morning was different, as all are. this one especially though, followed a different path. I got up to Starbucks around 11am, Bill and Ben were already there. Ben has met some Jehovah Witnesses earlier, and for a few minutes we talked about some papers they had given him. our conversation went on, with many different subjects, but around 20 minutes later a lady that had been sitting at an adjacent table walked over and asked what we were talking about. we'll call her Hope. Hope had been listing and was wondering our purpose for talking, and our subject. we explained we talk about many things, and she sat down and wanted to talk. she explained she was unhappy. Hope asked about friends, and if we had any true friends. friends we could go to when life was at it's darkest. it became clear quickly that she was at the point. the darkest time she'd been in, and she felt like dying, because heaven would be better. Hope had no friends, no one to turn to. she was learning that all her "friends" were only there when times were good, but now that they weren't, she was alone. Hope isn't married, she only have a 17 year old daughter she raises by herself. Hope was not raised in America, judging by her accent she is German.
Anyway, we talked for about an hour and a half. Hope is a beautiful woman. she explained she is suffering because she's alone. she had no real friends. she has no point in life. she does her best to be a good person, she loves others, cares for them, and they call her names and words that aren't nice. they say she's old fashioned, rude, nasty, and evil. these things hurt Hope, and she was beginning to doubt the point of living. she talked about how there's no real people that are honest. no one she could trust. she is very lonely. she asked Ben about his relationship, and if he trusted his wife. Ben said yes, of course. Hope asked what if Ben's wife had cheated on him, or left him. Ben said he'd be hurt, but he loved his wife, unconditionally, and these things would not stop him from loving her. Hope looked at been and shook her head back and forth. denying. she laughed and said many women would like to have Ben, but Ben didn't have love. Ben couldn't have love if he still loved his wife if she did those things. "That's not love. If she does those things you get a divorce, that's how it works."
we asked Hope why she was suffering. she said she didn't belong to this world. she was searching for herself. we pointed out that she was looking outward, always outward for who she was. in the reactions to her actions. she showed loved and was rewarded with mockery and hate. so she doubted her love. also, Hope said she was ugly. she said when she walks on the street and a man looks at her, her thought is "I must have something horrible on my face for him to look at me. I'm too ugly to look at normally, so there must be something truly nasty on me for him to look my way." this thought floored me. that amount of self hate is astounding. I'm not surprised it exists, but I've never encountered it. Hope is not ugly. Hope is a beautiful person, inside and out. Hope takes her thoughts as fact. when we asked her if she is ugly, she says yes. we disagree, she shakes her head. we asked her if she has to be married to be happy, she says yes. we disagree, and she shakes her head. she lives on a foundations of undeniable of facts, that make up her life, and cause her to suffer. these facts are not real facts, just thoughts and beliefs her mind gives her. we asked her if she is living, if her heart is breathing. she says her heart beats, but she doesn't live. nothing is inside, just a living body. Hope is dead.
I hope to talk to her more. Hope is hurting, struggling through life. I can't help her. no one can. Only Hope. only by loving herself, accepting what is, is she going to make progress. she has walls up, and no one can bring them down but her. I love Hope. She's an amazing loving human being. maybe we'll talk again.
Monday, February 16, 2009
who is I?
I was reading a book by Anthony De Mello, Awareness. In it, this statement stood out to me.
"Truth isn't something you can search for."
he's discussing what many zen writers have mentioned, the concept of not searching, but instead dropping your theories. dropping your opinions, your labels. which brings me to Mark 8:29. Jesus asked his followers this question: "who do you say that I am?"
wow. is there an answer? or a right or wrong one? can we know?
or for a different line of thought, don't assume the question is about Jesus. De Mello also talks about the difference between the "I" the inner self, vs the "Me." the Me is your ego, your thoughts, your beliefs, etc. the I has the ability to step outside that and look in, to examine the Me from apart. to dislocate. I can examine My thoughts. so who do I say that I am? what labels do I put on myself, my "I." human being is an easy one. not really any judgments there. but then what happens when I add "employee," "husband," "brother." then I try to live in those labels.
just some thoughts... anyone have any thoughts to add?
"Truth isn't something you can search for."
he's discussing what many zen writers have mentioned, the concept of not searching, but instead dropping your theories. dropping your opinions, your labels. which brings me to Mark 8:29. Jesus asked his followers this question: "who do you say that I am?"
wow. is there an answer? or a right or wrong one? can we know?
or for a different line of thought, don't assume the question is about Jesus. De Mello also talks about the difference between the "I" the inner self, vs the "Me." the Me is your ego, your thoughts, your beliefs, etc. the I has the ability to step outside that and look in, to examine the Me from apart. to dislocate. I can examine My thoughts. so who do I say that I am? what labels do I put on myself, my "I." human being is an easy one. not really any judgments there. but then what happens when I add "employee," "husband," "brother." then I try to live in those labels.
just some thoughts... anyone have any thoughts to add?
Monday, February 9, 2009
I say... you hear....
I was recently reading an article entitled "eight commonly misinterpreted songs" (found here,) and I was fascinated with the opening paragraph. In particular this sentence:
"When we read a poem or a story, we bring our own experiences into the text and that often yields vastly different interpretations. "
I've had a similar conversation many times on the subject of the Bible. Each person reads the verses contained within and understand them based on the experience of their life. That's part of the reason I have a hard time listening to a pastor teach on the Bible. my understanding is different from his, and I think God can show each person what they need to see though the specific things in the verse that make an impression on their mind. but this whole thing's off topic. I'm talking about communication.
communication, simple conversation is subject to the same principles. when you say something, that's not necessarily what the other person hears. they're listening to your words, and their brain is interpreting those words based on the sum of THEIR experiences. thus mis-communication happens so easily. basically any time your life experiences aren't similar to the other persons, there's opening for confusion.
so with this knowledge, why do we get so frustrated? because we expect everyone to understand everything how we meant it? has there ever been a place or time where that's held true? upon what do we base these expectations?
of course, one might read this post and draw the conclusion that conversation is pointless, or at least so difficult to get right that it's hardly worth the effort. I disagree. any conversation is a journey, and one must be open to anything along the way. sometimes even though you may not get what the other person is saying, it causes something else to arise in your being. something maybe not intended, but profound nevertheless.
on a small side not, I disagreed with the article I linked. the author draws her own conclusions on the songs. and what does it matter anyway? I suppose I should take the college course she mentioned...because I'm not sure how I feel about which is more important, what the author originally meant, or what the reader/listener takes from it... but what do I know. I'm just interpreting words on a page based on the sum of my life experiences. and that's not even starting in on my own interpretations of those life experiences. whether they be reality or not. silly me. what do I know?
"When we read a poem or a story, we bring our own experiences into the text and that often yields vastly different interpretations. "
I've had a similar conversation many times on the subject of the Bible. Each person reads the verses contained within and understand them based on the experience of their life. That's part of the reason I have a hard time listening to a pastor teach on the Bible. my understanding is different from his, and I think God can show each person what they need to see though the specific things in the verse that make an impression on their mind. but this whole thing's off topic. I'm talking about communication.
communication, simple conversation is subject to the same principles. when you say something, that's not necessarily what the other person hears. they're listening to your words, and their brain is interpreting those words based on the sum of THEIR experiences. thus mis-communication happens so easily. basically any time your life experiences aren't similar to the other persons, there's opening for confusion.
so with this knowledge, why do we get so frustrated? because we expect everyone to understand everything how we meant it? has there ever been a place or time where that's held true? upon what do we base these expectations?
of course, one might read this post and draw the conclusion that conversation is pointless, or at least so difficult to get right that it's hardly worth the effort. I disagree. any conversation is a journey, and one must be open to anything along the way. sometimes even though you may not get what the other person is saying, it causes something else to arise in your being. something maybe not intended, but profound nevertheless.
on a small side not, I disagreed with the article I linked. the author draws her own conclusions on the songs. and what does it matter anyway? I suppose I should take the college course she mentioned...because I'm not sure how I feel about which is more important, what the author originally meant, or what the reader/listener takes from it... but what do I know. I'm just interpreting words on a page based on the sum of my life experiences. and that's not even starting in on my own interpretations of those life experiences. whether they be reality or not. silly me. what do I know?
Monday, May 26, 2008
Welcome to the existence
*Everyone's here.
not sure why. but we are.
*Everyone's watching you now.
still lost on why. unless you're just self-centered, and you're imagining it.
*Dare you to move.
I dare myself to move. someday.
I'm not sure what I'm doing.
not sure why. but we are.
*Everyone's watching you now.
still lost on why. unless you're just self-centered, and you're imagining it.
*Dare you to move.
I dare myself to move. someday.
I'm not sure what I'm doing.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
working on it
lately I've been struggling not to struggle. obviously, this is not the right way to go about trying to find peace, but it's the only thing I know. I struggle at everything, and I know it's not right, it feels wrong. inner peace does come from fighting for it. it comes from accepting. from yes. somehow though, I'm saying yes to the wrong thing. I'm accepting and saying yes to how morbidly bad everything is, and how easy I can despair. I'm not saying yes to an unbiased reality. I still leave my bias on everything and think that by saying yes it will be ok. I suppose it's a type of arrogance that keeps me from getting past my own version of reality. I have something happen, or hear of a situation and see it as bad, and I'm unable to get past the negative feelings that go with that. I can see, objectively, that that situation or thing isn't necessarily bad. I just can't get that to translate into my head.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
As Is
too tired to write tonight. will have to learn to write before work, not after. sorry folks. here's a bit from Rilke.
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves like
locked rooms and like books that are written in
a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers,
which cannot be given you because you would not be able
to live them. And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now." - Rainer Maria Rilke
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves like
locked rooms and like books that are written in
a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers,
which cannot be given you because you would not be able
to live them. And the point is, to live everything.
Live the questions now." - Rainer Maria Rilke
Sunday, May 4, 2008
1234
my life is melting away. I "schedule" my life around my work, but on the days I work, I do nothing else. and on the days I don't work, I'm so "relieved" to not be working, I sleep all day. I get nothing done. I sleep, and waste time on the internet. really, what does it matter if I read an article on "Fishermen narrowly escape death when 40-tonne truck crashes just two feet from their tent." that is a real headline I found just now on Fark.com, where I waste much of my time. seriously, who cares.
so, in an attempt to put some order in my life, I shall try to blog daily. and wash clothes weekly. and eat at least twice a day. and possibly read an actual book at least a bit each day. we'll see how it goes.
so, in an attempt to put some order in my life, I shall try to blog daily. and wash clothes weekly. and eat at least twice a day. and possibly read an actual book at least a bit each day. we'll see how it goes.
Friday, February 8, 2008
insecurities of youth
today, I have cracked. I have felt like crying, but didn't. I felt like screaming, but didn't. I felt like running, but instead walked.
I feel pressure from everyone and everything. pressure from my parents to be productive. pressure from my girlfriend to not act like a retard. and to be productive. pressure from my brother for about everything. to be productive. to be happy. to live differently. to play poker well. to not act like a retard. to be a man. pressure from myself is the worst. all the things listed and more. to be happy. to be at peace. to know what I'm doing. where I'm going. who I am. to not act like a retard. to be a man. to be productive.
it's all in my head, everyone knows this. I know this, you know this. but it's as real as anything to me. and it crushes me. I know, I'm a drama queen, and I feel pressure from you, the unnamed reader, to not act like a sissy in this post. but it's my damn blog, I can spill whatever damn beans I want. and I do feel crushed. I feel like I imagine the bottom of the ocean to be. every inch of my body is under-pressure, from nowhere, from everywhere. it's there, but I can't see it. but it takes up all my thoughts.
who am I? where am I going? how do I get to be that person I don't know I want to be. is there someone out there that can help? actually, wait. I know the answer to that last one. no. it's up to me. all me. and guess what? the title of the post says youth, but this pressure comes from me, and it won't go away with age. it will only go away if I find a way to make it go away. if I can be at peace. the pressure to be at peace. how deliciously, and painfully, ironic.
I feel pressure from everyone and everything. pressure from my parents to be productive. pressure from my girlfriend to not act like a retard. and to be productive. pressure from my brother for about everything. to be productive. to be happy. to live differently. to play poker well. to not act like a retard. to be a man. pressure from myself is the worst. all the things listed and more. to be happy. to be at peace. to know what I'm doing. where I'm going. who I am. to not act like a retard. to be a man. to be productive.
it's all in my head, everyone knows this. I know this, you know this. but it's as real as anything to me. and it crushes me. I know, I'm a drama queen, and I feel pressure from you, the unnamed reader, to not act like a sissy in this post. but it's my damn blog, I can spill whatever damn beans I want. and I do feel crushed. I feel like I imagine the bottom of the ocean to be. every inch of my body is under-pressure, from nowhere, from everywhere. it's there, but I can't see it. but it takes up all my thoughts.
who am I? where am I going? how do I get to be that person I don't know I want to be. is there someone out there that can help? actually, wait. I know the answer to that last one. no. it's up to me. all me. and guess what? the title of the post says youth, but this pressure comes from me, and it won't go away with age. it will only go away if I find a way to make it go away. if I can be at peace. the pressure to be at peace. how deliciously, and painfully, ironic.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh
Recently I've had several discussions on Rocket Man, originally preformed by Elton John. here's my favorite version of it, with William Shatner:
after these discussions I Wikied the song, and discovered that Kate Bush did a version of it that reached #12 on the UK charts. I Youtubed it, and here's what I found:
I don't know about you, I'm not too impressed with it. Obviously Shatner is better, but I even prefer Elton here, or even Stewie:
and last but not least, from the credits of one of my favorite shows, Californication, I present a cover by My Morning Jacket:
after these discussions I Wikied the song, and discovered that Kate Bush did a version of it that reached #12 on the UK charts. I Youtubed it, and here's what I found:
I don't know about you, I'm not too impressed with it. Obviously Shatner is better, but I even prefer Elton here, or even Stewie:
and last but not least, from the credits of one of my favorite shows, Californication, I present a cover by My Morning Jacket:
Sunday, January 27, 2008
can't help it
sooo...I was reading some lists on Forbes.com...like, richest celebs, authors, musicians, etc. and I come across something about Avril Lavigne. a few years ago, in my younger teen years, I was a huge fan of Avril, as obviously EVERY teen is. I hadn't listened to her music in a while though, even though I still think she's smokin hot. so this blurb on her said that she released a new album in April or somethin of 2007, (I missed it,) and that her hit single on that, "Girlfriend" became the 2nd most popular video of all time on youtube. I used to watch tons of stuff on youtube, and try to keep up with who's the current "youtube celebs." I'm kinda surprised that a video like hers hit the #2 all time spot. usually the top few are reserved for old classics, such as the #1 all time most viewed video, seen here: Evolution of Dance.
that video has been viewed OVER 72 MILLION times. that's a lot. but it's been popular for years. however, Avril's music video has only been out a few months, and already has over 69 million views. that's astounding. so I went and watched it. DAMN. she is so hot. check her out: Avril's Video
impressive eh? and the music is still hugely popular. I'm kinda tired of her old stuff, (only because I over-listened to it to the tune of 50 million times,) but I like the new stuff. I admit it. can't help it. it's smokin hot Avril.
that video has been viewed OVER 72 MILLION times. that's a lot. but it's been popular for years. however, Avril's music video has only been out a few months, and already has over 69 million views. that's astounding. so I went and watched it. DAMN. she is so hot. check her out: Avril's Video
impressive eh? and the music is still hugely popular. I'm kinda tired of her old stuff, (only because I over-listened to it to the tune of 50 million times,) but I like the new stuff. I admit it. can't help it. it's smokin hot Avril.
I'm Not There, I'm gone..
somehow I accidentally posted this on the Vaguely Vagabonds blog. oops. obv fixed it now tho.
lately I've started to see some things. some answers. they're costing a lot, but I think it's worth it.
the answer I've been given today is a simple one. ironically enough, this isn't the first time I've heard it. it's a very prevalent theme in Christian religion, and comes straight from the Bible. the theme is that works alone will not get you to heaven. it's not what you do that counts. it's seen in the bible here:
*Galatians 2:16
Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law but by faith in Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law; for by the works of the law no flesh shall be justified.
*1 Samuel 16:7
But the Lord said to Samuel, "Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
fairly simple, eh? except that I've missed it. a robot can be programmed to go on road trips, to meet people, to read good books, to smoke cigars with family, and to walk and see nature. this is all simple to do, but not to experience. not to live. the real test is inside. and lately I've been preoccupied with doing the right things, and I'm missing out on it all anyway.
kinda preachy, I know. and I referenced Christianity, which is REALLY rare for me. ever so sorry. won't happen again.
Soundtrack for the day: I'm Not There - Bob Dylan
lately I've started to see some things. some answers. they're costing a lot, but I think it's worth it.
the answer I've been given today is a simple one. ironically enough, this isn't the first time I've heard it. it's a very prevalent theme in Christian religion, and comes straight from the Bible. the theme is that works alone will not get you to heaven. it's not what you do that counts. it's seen in the bible here:
*Galatians 2:16
Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law but by faith in Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law; for by the works of the law no flesh shall be justified.
*1 Samuel 16:7
But the Lord said to Samuel, "Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
fairly simple, eh? except that I've missed it. a robot can be programmed to go on road trips, to meet people, to read good books, to smoke cigars with family, and to walk and see nature. this is all simple to do, but not to experience. not to live. the real test is inside. and lately I've been preoccupied with doing the right things, and I'm missing out on it all anyway.
kinda preachy, I know. and I referenced Christianity, which is REALLY rare for me. ever so sorry. won't happen again.
Soundtrack for the day: I'm Not There - Bob Dylan
Friday, January 25, 2008
The fox went out on a chilly night...
a few days ago, I was the most confused person on the planet. a far smarter person then me once said suffering was the greatest, (and only,) suffering. I believe it.
this morning, I am the happiest person on the planet.
what changed? nothing. it's easy to be confused when you can't see out of your own head. a step back clears so much. and I saw a fox. that actually did a lot. most will never know.
nature is the cure for all things. if one is in nature, and still suffering, it is only the trouble of that person's mind.
this morning, I am the happiest person on the planet.
what changed? nothing. it's easy to be confused when you can't see out of your own head. a step back clears so much. and I saw a fox. that actually did a lot. most will never know.
nature is the cure for all things. if one is in nature, and still suffering, it is only the trouble of that person's mind.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
any other day
today, I woke up at 11. I often sleep late on days I don't work. and days I do work. I always sleep late. sue me.
I decided to go downtown, and my bus left from the stop across the highway at 12:15. I got online for a bit, went to take a shower, walked to the bus stop, then remembered I had forgotten my bus pass, walked back home, and back again. by this time it's 12:45. obviously, I missed my bus. I wasn't too worried tho, there's one that leaves every hour tho.
I sat by the bus stop, which is just a sign by the edge of the highway, and wait. I have no idea how long. I was sitting next to a mexican fast food chain. there were some guys out doing the landscaping and one of them asks me to move several times as he cuts the grass. after a while, he stopped and stars talk to me. I'm still unsure why. he was very friendly tho. only problem was, he didn't speak english. I don't speak spanish. he motioned cutting the grass, and said "taco cabana." I took this to mean the obvious, he does landscaping for the fast food chain. he says, "all taco cabana. austin. san antonio," and he used his hands to motion driving. I asked him if he does all the ones in the state of texas, and he nodded. he asked me if I am a student. "english?" I said no, I just live here. and work. he pointed back to his work, and says goodbye. I don't know his name. doubt I ever will.
a bit after that, my bus came, which was good, as it was getting hot. it was 15 minute ride or so. some days I'm not comfortable on the bus, because I'm worried I'll get stuck somewhere. not today. I didn't mind the bus, or the thought of getting stuck. whatever happens is fine.
I got to my next stop, and switched bus lines. there was a man on the bus with a backpack from the poker website I play on. I asked him if he plays, and we talked about the online poker industry. when he got off, a man across the bus starts telling me the first man was full of crap. I asked why, and he said some things that didn't really make sense. I said ok.
I got off at my stop, on the university campus. it's a fun place. I love places with people. I love to watch. and there are so many people here. mostly my age. it's fun. I walked around, found the bookstore I came down to see, but the book-signing I'm here for doesn't start until 4. so I have time to explore. after I walked past the bookstore, a man asked me if I have a moment for the environment. I told him yes, I do, but I'm going to spend it somewhere else.
after walking for a bit, I came across a car accident. there were 3 cars totally smashed. 2 firetrucks, 4 police cars, a couple ambulances. I walked between the police cars to get to the sidewalk. I passed a lady a few houses down that commented on it as I walked by. we stood and watched it for a while, and she told me it was 5 cars, but they'd already towed 2. she commented on how sad it is that it happened, because they were such beautiful cars. I laughed and told her to have a good day and kept walking.
I passed the Church of Scientology. across the street there are some very alien looking purple plants. coincidence? I think not.
I went and sat under the shadow of the capitol building. I smoked a cigar, and read my book. Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Marie Rilke. it blows me away how much it makes sense, tho it was written over 100 years ago. he talks about concepts that I've been working on the past few months. I was extremely surprised to see how relevant his writings are.
once I finished my cigar, I walked back to the bookstore to finish my book. I had just enough time to finish it before the book-signing started. the author was Anita Thompson, the widow of Hunter Thompson. Hunter is a hero of mine, and someday I might say more about him. for now tho, it was about Anita. she arrived late, and described some of her life with Hunter. then she read some of her book, and took some questions. I could go into more detail, but it's really only interesting if you're not a fan of Hunter. so I won't.
afterwards, I walked to the bus stop and caught my bus home. it was extremely crowded, being the first bus leaving after classes had gotten out. we filled up the bus too the point where people had to stay and wait for the next one. as the bus drove off, as packed as it was, I saw a guy with a cool hat, which looked kinda like mine. wait. mine. I felt the top of my head, and there was no hat there. damnit. I got off at the next stop, and called sam for the number of the bookstore. I called them, and they said they didn't have it. that kinda pissed me off, as I liked that hat a lot. then I realized that if it was really gone, then it must be time for me to find a new look. so I got on the next bus, and about that time got a call back from the bookstore. they had found it, and were holding on to it. it's been almost a week since then, and I haven't gone back to pick it up. it's kind of out of the way. I might try tho, soon. if not, I'll find myself a new look after all. we'll see.
I decided to go downtown, and my bus left from the stop across the highway at 12:15. I got online for a bit, went to take a shower, walked to the bus stop, then remembered I had forgotten my bus pass, walked back home, and back again. by this time it's 12:45. obviously, I missed my bus. I wasn't too worried tho, there's one that leaves every hour tho.
I sat by the bus stop, which is just a sign by the edge of the highway, and wait. I have no idea how long. I was sitting next to a mexican fast food chain. there were some guys out doing the landscaping and one of them asks me to move several times as he cuts the grass. after a while, he stopped and stars talk to me. I'm still unsure why. he was very friendly tho. only problem was, he didn't speak english. I don't speak spanish. he motioned cutting the grass, and said "taco cabana." I took this to mean the obvious, he does landscaping for the fast food chain. he says, "all taco cabana. austin. san antonio," and he used his hands to motion driving. I asked him if he does all the ones in the state of texas, and he nodded. he asked me if I am a student. "english?" I said no, I just live here. and work. he pointed back to his work, and says goodbye. I don't know his name. doubt I ever will.
a bit after that, my bus came, which was good, as it was getting hot. it was 15 minute ride or so. some days I'm not comfortable on the bus, because I'm worried I'll get stuck somewhere. not today. I didn't mind the bus, or the thought of getting stuck. whatever happens is fine.
I got to my next stop, and switched bus lines. there was a man on the bus with a backpack from the poker website I play on. I asked him if he plays, and we talked about the online poker industry. when he got off, a man across the bus starts telling me the first man was full of crap. I asked why, and he said some things that didn't really make sense. I said ok.
I got off at my stop, on the university campus. it's a fun place. I love places with people. I love to watch. and there are so many people here. mostly my age. it's fun. I walked around, found the bookstore I came down to see, but the book-signing I'm here for doesn't start until 4. so I have time to explore. after I walked past the bookstore, a man asked me if I have a moment for the environment. I told him yes, I do, but I'm going to spend it somewhere else.
after walking for a bit, I came across a car accident. there were 3 cars totally smashed. 2 firetrucks, 4 police cars, a couple ambulances. I walked between the police cars to get to the sidewalk. I passed a lady a few houses down that commented on it as I walked by. we stood and watched it for a while, and she told me it was 5 cars, but they'd already towed 2. she commented on how sad it is that it happened, because they were such beautiful cars. I laughed and told her to have a good day and kept walking.
I passed the Church of Scientology. across the street there are some very alien looking purple plants. coincidence? I think not.
I went and sat under the shadow of the capitol building. I smoked a cigar, and read my book. Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Marie Rilke. it blows me away how much it makes sense, tho it was written over 100 years ago. he talks about concepts that I've been working on the past few months. I was extremely surprised to see how relevant his writings are.
once I finished my cigar, I walked back to the bookstore to finish my book. I had just enough time to finish it before the book-signing started. the author was Anita Thompson, the widow of Hunter Thompson. Hunter is a hero of mine, and someday I might say more about him. for now tho, it was about Anita. she arrived late, and described some of her life with Hunter. then she read some of her book, and took some questions. I could go into more detail, but it's really only interesting if you're not a fan of Hunter. so I won't.
afterwards, I walked to the bus stop and caught my bus home. it was extremely crowded, being the first bus leaving after classes had gotten out. we filled up the bus too the point where people had to stay and wait for the next one. as the bus drove off, as packed as it was, I saw a guy with a cool hat, which looked kinda like mine. wait. mine. I felt the top of my head, and there was no hat there. damnit. I got off at the next stop, and called sam for the number of the bookstore. I called them, and they said they didn't have it. that kinda pissed me off, as I liked that hat a lot. then I realized that if it was really gone, then it must be time for me to find a new look. so I got on the next bus, and about that time got a call back from the bookstore. they had found it, and were holding on to it. it's been almost a week since then, and I haven't gone back to pick it up. it's kind of out of the way. I might try tho, soon. if not, I'll find myself a new look after all. we'll see.
the blog
if you know me, you know I'm forgetful. some things deserve to be remembered. some days, while seemly ordinary, are worth writing down.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
