"All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move."--- Benjamin Franklin. I'll elaborate later on how I feel, although it's pretty hard to refute this.

This Here Pod. . .

Someone asked me why I don't delete the songs I don't listen to anymore, from my Ipod. I'm not going to do that. Never. I'm not going to erase anything. My phases of music interact with my moods and I have never stayed in one mood for longer than a day. Why would I erase something I would need to soothe me? or something that would solve my loneliness. Why? My songs also parallel to my age. I don't make photo albums anymore, I have my Ipod.

Why take a foreign language or visit a foreign country?

A new country is a new perspective; a new culture to soak in with new issues and new pages full of new words in a new day's life. All things to discover and ponder to reflect ones own country. To take a foreign language is to breech from, in this case, the American mold and inplant yourself into the world's. You then become not just a person of you're country, but a person of the world. Like a pomegranite.

New Shapes from Something Old

Mood: Serenity Tone: Carefree Metaphor: Every simple motion under its surface displayed by its broken reflection of surroundings.

Memoir: Much

I don't quite remember the date, or how tall I was. But I definitely remember the silent drive from my grandma's house to the church. I'm sure Granddad posthumously pesters her for not giving him up to science. I don't remember what I wore or what anyone else did. I do remember, though, wanting to sit down, alone. Everyone was all over me. I know they cared and I respected them for that. But still, I just wanted to breathe, exactly what Granddad couldn't do anymore. Perhaps that was why he had had that heart attack those five years ago, because of our family. Great. We solved the mystery. That might have been the worst part of all; not knowing why it happened. It wasn't really the constant crying from my parents, siblings, and assortment of relatives. Nor the awkward empty room that Grandma assigns us to sleep in every time we visit. We still call it "Granddad's office". Yes, it was the fact that a 68 year old man who walked about two miles a day with no heart health concerns had had a heart attack while away on a business trip. It was unfathomable. From the moment Grandma asked me to touch the body that once sheltered Granddad, I was trampled. Nothing seemed hopeful; I was completely choked with no mercy. My last breath of innocence, more so ignorance, was taken away, and from then on no more excuses were accepted. I was now forced to understand that everyone was programmed to die leaving their bodies only with a slight deformity to their absences. So as I turned away practically puking and in wonderment, I began to cry for numerous reasons besides the one at hand. I cried knowing I would be somewhere like this on a similar occasion but the empty body would be my mom's, dad's, brother's and sister's. On top of that, I would be alone without them, if all goes according to birth rate. I know it would be cutting my life short if, for some reason, I would die preemptively to my time, but on the contrary, it would be a relief, right? Being only a cowardly mortal human, of course, my first inclination was to surrender; never to fight. But my cowardice working with me, for once, persuaded me to continue. It would have been a little much, I suppose.

Free Verse: New Walk

The silk-threaded robes, though palliating their figures, accentuated every motion of their bodies; every fraction of light caught by every twitch, sway or sudden thrust of their legs juggling the torso above on thin sticklike platforms bulging their bilious heels. This contracted their arms To rock placidly about in the rhythm of their body. Each step; A strong sway into the future Obfuscating the past.

Dream: How is the Water?

My vapid hands grasp the bucket bellow me In attempt to carry Its weight. I thrust the handle upward, The bucket quakes with sympathy for my poor excuse of strength. In frustration, I attempt again But this time the bucket rattles from side to side mocking me while the ring of water that lay comfortably under the rusted steel edges, saunters over the side onto my bare feet. My eyes peel open In wonderment; Was the water cold, hot or just fine?

I Never Want Them to End

Every Sunday I read Frank Warren's post secrets, like millions of other people, I'm sure. Each time I feel like a better person. Perhaps it's the fact that it's something I actually enjoy reading. But perhaps it's because reading them makes me feel more connected to the world. FIN

Regina..... Regina..... Regina...... when's that swong gonna start???

"When he get's to the crowded subway platform, he takes off both of his shoes, steps right into somebody's fat lugey and everyone who sees him says "ew". Everyone who sees him says "EW!" But he doesn't care cuz last night he got a visit from the ghost of corperate Future. The Ghost that take off both your shoes whatever chances it get, especially when their wet, he also said; imagine you go away on a business trip one day. When you come back home; your children have grown and you've never made your wife mown. Your children have grown and you've never made your wife mown. People make you nervous. You think the world is ending, and everybody's features have somehow started blendin. And everything is plastic, and everyones sarcastic. And all your food is frozen and needs to be defrosted. You'd think the world was ending, you'd think the world was ending. You'd think the world was ending right now! You'd think the world is ending! You'd think the world was ending! You'd think the world is ending! You'd think the world was ending! Well maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee and never ever watch the 10:00 news. Maybe you should kiss someone nice; a lick a rock or both. Maybe you should cut your own hair cuz that would be so funny. It doesn't cost any money. And it always grows back, it grows even after you're dead. People are just People they shouldn't make you nervous. The world is everlasting; it's comin and it's goin." ~ Regina Spektor

A Little Bit About Me

As I've grown through layers of interests, I've come to conclusions of what I long to do after college has passed by. As a kid, I wanted to become an artest. Yes, an artest. I couldn't spell well, so my teachers constantly corrected me, but I never took to spelling artist as it should be. Sometime during fifth grade after I won third place in a poetry contest, I decided I should spend my days writing poetry. Around the time of Middle school, I decided a writer would suffice. in eighth grade I tried writing a book. Wow, I was naive. I did reach 100 pages, and I did end it. But the poor plot loops and reoccurring misspelling of the word "coma" had no future in publishing. Entering Dulaney High School, I found myself fascinated with others' feelings and thoughts. I envisioned myself sitting at a couch taking notes from some one's life shpeel. After that phase, my artestry found an easier and more welcoming to my excessive laziness medium; photography. I still work the cam cam now and then. At the current moments, I long for a video camera, and want to show the rebuttle to photography, if that rings true. Although my life has changed so much since that revelation of a therapeutic future, I can't help but wonder how all these estranged hobbies of mine will mix. I hope none are ignored.

I Hope To Always Remember It.

Dear Violethush~ What can I say, I wasn't expecting that to be said, not gonna lie. I almost never hold myself high, that sounds a bit morbid, but I mean I constantly judge myself and I'm doing it as I write actually. You probably actually do have some sort of idea as to how it makes me feel that someone just as brilliant and talented as you put me in such a spectrum. Thank you. Once we we talked about post secret, and I said I was making one to send in. Well, first off, I never did send that one. More importantly thougth, you asked me if the secrets I was making were things I haven't told you, and I said yes they were things you weren't aware of. Your post reminded me of this because I feel too vulnerable or at least not complete enough to let people know certain things about me, not so much anymore, but still as a lingering fear I don't always tell people things. My second inclination is because sometimes I want to feel smarter and the only way is to hide things from people, so only I can know them, and they can't. That's a bit overly dramatic for my taste, so maybe it isn't how I feel. Who knows? Take what you must and do it as you will.Thank you for listening. . . ... .. Formally, Ribbon

A New Meaning

I didn't use to know what Love meant. I tagged it as superficial and Corny. But that was only because I hadn't experienced it in the way I was looking for it. I thought you needed someone to makeout with you or dance with you at a dance. Strange thing is I don't believe myself when I say that nor did I when I thought it. A love to me is simply someone who smiles when they see you for it's their why of giving something to you everyday. This may sound a bit Ersatz, but they surround me with goodness for at least a millisecond. On another note, I feel as everyone is so beautiful in their ways of getting to their inner core. How can one just limit themselves to only one beauty. I'll take it all.

"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

I only hope this is true so that all the evils in the world will finally collapse. And by evils I mean those people who don't understand what the letters L,O,V,E conveniently spell.

To Be Free

My worries: Dying before I don't know who I am. Waking up one day and realizing it's too late to do something. Though most of the time there is something that can replace it or you can do. In this case it would be if I ever surpass 80 or even 75. Sometimes I have vivid dreams of myself running around a house searching for something I never end up finding. I just hope I don't wake up and realize I wanted that baby, I wanted that man, or I wanted that oppurtunity for a job I didn't think I wanted but really did. That leads me to my fear of regretting something I did, or never did. That must be one of my biggest fears and I know I'm not alone.

In Jack Alton's 1,001 dreams, he states; "bathing in a relaxing location can symbolize a desire to float again in the mother's womb."

Can this mean that we as humans have known what's it's been like to relax from the moment we breached into the world? Perhaps we even as infants knew when we were tense and when we were loose. Now that I think about it I completely agree: we would cry when we were the slightest bit uncomfortable, I'm sure, and we would smile or just act content when we would be relatively happy. It is fascinating how sensitive we were and how we slowly break into this world, step by step, hardening our souls.