Shadows of the Past

It has been one year since this blog began, one year since we began this experiment in interaction. Since then things have changed. We are different people, shaped by the irrevocable flow of time. That difference has seeped through into our blogs, our topics, our voice, our presence has changed. My goals now for this endeavor are humbler--while this will always be a way for the three of us separated by time and space and life to keep in touch, to keep the bigger questions which do not always fit into the too infrequent catch-up phone calls in focus, no longer do I see it as a forum where what we shout to each other will affect the intervening distances. Sometime I do not even think that I am having a conversation with you let alone a dialogue with the world beyond. This experiment has been proof that the interweb is too impersonal, too big, too cold, too technological for a real debate. That is not why people turn to the on-line world--it is largely for escapism, for voyeurism, for socially acceptable stalking, for a chance to scream their opinions into the void, and often for a dose of schadenfreude. A genuine dialogue, developing in the void between strangers for no other purpose than to share each others thoughts has eluded us, and may be impossible in this medium.

While this experiment has failed I am not now tempted to take down this blog as I once was. For I have found a new purpose in it--a repository. It is a place where I can fix my thoughts, both in a effort to sort them out and as a record for me as to what issues I was concerned with and what I thought in the past, a diary or letter opened to our little public. It is a place for me to put poems, pictures and mostly quotes that inspire and amuse me. And through this sharing a new dialogue might occur, one less structured and less deliberate than the previous goal, but one occurring through the creation of a shared consciousness. By creating such a trove we at least create a common store of idea, of language and reference from which the dialogue can stem.

So two our 2 readers and anyone else out there who stumbles upon us, I have a favor to ask for our one year anniversary. Please, talk, think, point out something else that relates to what we are saying--respond in someway so we are not just shouting into the void.

There is power in me yet, my race is not yet run

Who are we? we who claim to know so much yet know so little. Are we so arrogant that we cannot confess to be proud? We have but one chance to do something in this world, who are we to falter? Why are we afraid to fight for the right to be free? I want to run I want to fly I want to do something with my life. There will come a time when we must decide who we are. In this world why are we restricted in professions that we deem others will want to emulate? Why simply cannot we walk and learn and hope to understand? Damn their warnings damn their lies, they will see the people rise! I want to learn, I want to learn so much. To travel to learn the trades of better men. I want to wander I want to be free. I want to be remembered for the life that I led. I want to be written in the stars. Let the rains fall and the seas rise! Let us walk unafraid of what is to come. Let us reach for the stars and let the stars be changed. Who cares about your lonely soul, we strive for a higher goal, our little lives don't count at all! The trumpets wills sound for the Lords of Gondor have returned. I would have called you my brother. my captain. my king. We do not know the path that we tread, but He does, and so we must content ourselves with this knowledge, the knowledge that there is a being greater than us, that there is a will greater than our own. The stars can be changed. The Son also rises. Are we willing to give our lives or are we to afraid to even say our name. He stood as if challenging the world, and all who looked upon him concluded that in the case of a rumble, the world would lose.

A human mind

Knowledge quells wonder. In a sense this is true. The more you know about something the less you I don't want to wait why can't I just write write like I usually do write what i think write what i've never thought or at least never realized i've thought. what's in my head what's blocking my brain why do I have trouble finding the words i love words it's never been a problem before that's not true some papers just wont come some ideas sometimes thinking too much gets in the way i second guess i dont know enough can't express ideas in a smooth fluid way cant say what im trying to say dont know what it is im trying to say just write the words that come there's a story out there, capture it writing in itself can lead to truth so many of the greatest writers went insane writing is dangerous you explore things maybe youre not meant to go too deep take a step too far this is my mind you want to see inside you wont understand i dont understand i dont want to write things out for you do i have an obligation to the others does this have to fit a format is there something acceptable, something unacceptable when i write does it need a style a convention will you be mad if it's this, if i don't follow the rules. i love english i love structure i believe its necessary in language in writing i think its proper i think it reveals a beauty in the words and there's a magic to it someone like Oscar Wilde who can use words like that creates a whole new dimension its an art form there's a message in the style not just the words. but sometimes you need to throw that away just write for the sake of writing just see where the ideas take you just take what you get what comes into your head and then goes onto the page. why are you reading this? why am i writing this? when i started i had an idea in mind, maybe i'll come back and write about it later, but the words wouldn't come my mind is a jumble and i couldn't say what i wanted. this is how i journal, stream of consciousness, no rule is absolute, sometimes there's structure sometimes though you have to throw away the rules. you have to get the ideas some things can't be constrained there's a freedom to this. a freedom from convention that lets you get to something deeper and then you can go back and refine it, make it comprehensible to others, but sometimes just write for yourself, it can help you figure out what you're really thinking and probably show you something about yourself, something about what goes on inside your head how brilliant it can be even in it's randomness the connections and associations you make without even realizing it. there's something beneath all of this, there's something deeper, something more, get there however you can, think in different ways, wonder, question, consider however you want, don't let others tell you how. That won't get you somewhere new, just where they are. Go down your own path, fly on your dreams

Half of me wants to apologize for this. I was serious when I said I started off with an idea in mind, hence the beginning couple lines and then the leap into confusion. But after a week of midterms I couldn't really handle writing anything resembling an essay. So instead I wrote a journal entry, which is scary because this really is a glimpse into my mind, displayed on a page and I don't usually let other people see that. So you don't get an apology, just a promise that I won't do this often, that usually my writing be much more comprehensible. Take this as whatever you want, try to enjoy it, but at the very least laugh at the absurdity of a human mind.