Some spare thoughts

What if Heaven/Hell is purely mental? What is time or conciousness in the context of sleep or near death? To what extent can the brain extend a moment's time?

Ever heard anyone explain something that was a close call by saying that time 'slowed' down? That would mean the brain speeds up to make each second more productive and hence the feeling of time slowing down.

Most research shows that DMT (Dimethyltryptamine), a drug our own bodies synthesize, is released when we die. DMT and your brain may very well be your 'after life'. Maybe your mind is God.

Perhaps those that believe in Heaven/Hell create their own end. If they feel free of guilt then they are creating their own Heaven. That would explain the role of repentance -- to remove self guilt and responsibility of action. Those that feel they have done some mortal sin and do not repent to clear their concious are creating their own Hell.

The end of Heaven/Hell, because it must end, the brain cannot extend time indefinetly, is not important. The mere entrace into either state would mean total illusion of time, place, and death, which would transfer all thought of being, to making Heaven/Hell real. Along with this would come the illusion of eternity and that is the most important part--especially to Hell. Mental anguish is one of the most powerful tools humans have created. To know you are dying and in pain, and to think you will be forever, is the epitome of Hell, making the specific amount of time spent there, unimportant. This is also true of Heaven. The initial glee of being in a perfect place, where only happiness exists is important. Largely happiness is mental; if your brain now believes that you will be experiencing euphoria forever, the ultimate amount of time is insignificant.

Just a few random thoughts during class.

Not that I'm advertising or anything, but...

So.
You know what you should do tonight?

You should come see "Little Shop of Horrors" at 7:30 tonight, or check out one of the 6 other shows this weekend, Tuesday, and next weekend.

Because it will be amazing.

Oh. And if you want to make me REALLY happy (or just point and laugh at me), you should come on the 20th, the 22nd, or the 26th (that's this Sunday, Tuesday, and next Saturday).

Why, you ask? Well, I'll be singing, talking to a plant, and wearing a curly blond wig. Let's just leave it at that.

Come on. You know you want to check it out (plus, it's only $5).

Disconcerting

It's 6:33 pm. Why hasn't the sun started setting yet? What is this blue sky doing in place of a slowly darkening, potentially gray one? Could it possibly mean that spring is FINALLY here, mid-April? Oh goodness, I really hope so.

Used.

The yellowed plastic refrigerator had visited the world through magnets from famous cities. The insides of the box sheltered nourishment and whirred each hour. A faithful soldier. The outside was used over and over again as a trophy box. A perfect place to hang up A+ grades and awards…

But now it just sits there.
Blank, bare, and unloved.

WARM.

Oh man.
It is definitely supposed to get up to almost 70 degrees on Wednesday.
SPRING!!!!
I have so been looking forward to skirts and capris and no sweatshirts.
And grass and sun and people and just laying outside and enjoying the weather.
Oh lord, I really hope it stays this time.

Unphotographable

There's a guy named Michael David Murphy who started a blog called "Unphotographable: A Text Account of Pictures Missed." As he writes:

Unphotographable is a catalog of exceptional mistakes. Photos never taken that weren't meant to be forgotten. Opportunities missed. Simple failures. Occasions when I wished I'd taken the picture, or not forgotten the camera, or had been brave enough to click the shutter.

So, just now I was compelled to write my own:

This is a picture I did not take of the most summery sky Aurora has seen for a long while, colored by a beautiful gradient of dark blue on top to a light sky blue as it reached the horizon and dotted by light and fluffy clouds placed perfectly all around. Although the sunlight was too bright for this to be seen, it all came into focus just as soon as I put on my sunglasses.

This is one of those occasions I wish there were a non-awkward way to carry around my camera and a tripod all the time. Okay, back to my Nokk paper...

Bored.

Boredom seeps from my pores.
It oozes ought from my thoughts.
It radiates from my actions.
My mind loses itself as it seeks to find itself.

From the ooze that has crept out from my mind
I see a dragon burst forth, blazing across my room.
Scales ripple as it flies around the room.
I duck as a burst of fire flies free from it's mouth.

It crashes headfirst into the wall,
soundlessly melding into the jungle vines.
Apes and chimpanzees swing through the canopies,
and screech wildly as they fall into of my computer.

They pixelate and disappear as the become nothing more than numbers.
Electrons shiver through wires, zipping through the nothingness.
They fire out and gather together, forming an image.
I find myself and look at Kcrews blog.

So I am going to write on here once in awhile. People know who I am, and people say I am a good writer. I am not going to bash people or try to win sympathy, but I will just record how I am feeling. It might be in the form of free form poem, or maybe I will make one rhyme. I might just write a story. I don't know. I am pretty easy going.

An Election Post-diction

Funny story...not quite sure why I am telling it, but here it goes...

For the duration of the election, nathan kafka wouldn't tell me who he thought would win. i, of course, wanted to know and bugged him and bugged him. last week tuesday, the day before election, he called me into the office to tell me who was going to win.

He was convinced it was going to be Mamatha Crews. Either we were getting married or having a child, both of which are not going to happen. but, i found it humorous and decided to find a picture of this mamatha crews, so here heshe is. Its kind of creepy, so please dont be alarmed!


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Dreams of Pipes

I wish Elvis Presley was still alive.
And John Lennon.
And maybe Lucille Ball.

i don't know what to call it

do you ever feel like screaming and whispering at the same time?

screaming about your anger/sadness/frustration yet whispering for someone to help, someone to notice, someone to show that they care?

Pipe Dreams

I wish Tupac was still alive

I don't like Aerosmith as much as I like the Rolling Stones.

I don't know why I'm awake this early on a Sunday morning.
I don't know why I haven't started any of my homework yet.
I don't know why I have a gallon of soy milk (which I hate right now) in my fridge.
I don't know why I haven't mailed that postcard yet.
I don't know why I bother talking to my friends from home, because most of them don't know/don't care who I am anymore.
I don't know why I'm too afraid to let people know I care about them.
I don't know why my left foot hurts right now.
I don't know why the top of my desk is so cluttered.
I don't know why my Beatles poster is crooked.
I don't know why I haven't done my laundry yet.
I don't know why I can't get my math grade up.
I don't know why I'm afraid to use the telephone.
I don't know why it's so hot in my room right now.
I don't know why I saved those receipts.
I don't know why I can't swallow pills.
I don't know why I can't find my camera charger.
I don't know why my cell phone keeps beeping.
I don't know why I still have that box under my bed.
I don't know why I'm so attached to my pillow.
I don't know why she thinks she's better than me.
I don't know why I look forward to crossing the days off my calender.
I don't know why all the clocks (4) in my room are set to different times.

I don't know a lot of things.