Silent Corner

What we're Here for

2011-10-26T20:05:00.003-04:00

lmfao.

Trivial Issues

2011-10-12T20:19:00.000-04:00

I have had a long-standing internal battle with the idea of "men's" products. Aside from shirts with room for boobs, and hormone injections, there isn't much of a difference to be had between the consumable needs of men and women. But, something has set me off. I will not mention it in specifics, and this is in direct protest. I'm aware a certain soda company is using the negative emotions of

Things You Probably Don't Care To Know About

2011-10-11T18:45:00.000-04:00

I wrote a poem for my sisters today. I told them, "I hope you hate me, I hope you always will," and "pray that Hell exists." I don't think I wrote it in the first person. I think I wrote it as a masochist, a guilty party in need of punishment. But, either way, I find that hate and anger have been valuable tools for victims of emotional abuse. This was the point of the poem. I hope they love

The Keys

2011-04-11T01:07:00.000-04:00

Learning from History is bullshit. As soon as it's written, it's dead. A memory: basically just a standing record of what will never happen the same way again. What should I do when blindsided, and present reality begins to hurt? Misguided, the past looks comforting and full of promise. Happy pictures painted by the fact that I survived at all. The ache of ignorance feels numb by now.

Subjective Interpretation #1

2010-10-20T20:13:00.000-04:00

Imagine a boundless open field. Maybe there are trees, maybe it is completely flat. It is green, and quiet of any sounds not indigent to it. Complete. Now see, as time progresses in that field, stones being piled. Large, cut stones, with sharp right angles, uniform and perfect in the classical sense of the word. They are stacked like bricks, walling off small circles in the open field. The walls

Reignition

2010-08-30T15:50:00.000-04:00

I'm being too socially exclusive. So, what am I to do about it? Pretend anyone you're around is fun. Believe me, appreciating a person is the easiest way to get them comfortable enough to be interesting. And some of the best friends I've made have been people who hated me at first. They found me annoying; I broke their rules, I was lazy, loud, innocently nonsensical. That's my version of fun,

It's Up To You, Now

2010-08-26T15:38:00.001-04:00

Well, that was myopic. That's the problem with categorization. I was all "new is awesome, and it's happening all the time", and the words were all "I'm obsessed with new, go out and buy an iPad before it's passe... Oops, too late! New is king!" There is a huge problem with language. This is all-inclusive language we're talking here, counting art, music, verbiage, hell, even the senses themselves

No Doubt

2010-08-24T15:48:00.001-04:00

This is an old post. It's a meme that fell out of my brain way too long ago. Like thirty seconds too long. What's a meme, anyway? Is it a mental infection? Or is it a word? Was it always a word? Will it be, later? I indulge luxuriously in cliche today, to see what harm it brings. I'm a girl, who looks like a drawing of one, done by some dude. A rather advanced drawing, produced with the

Defiltrate

2010-08-09T13:55:00.002-04:00

You, gene machine. You must remove your filters. Ok, I know it's radical. I know the whole point of media and advertising and communicating and sorting and listing is to filter out the important from the unimportant. To let you see your own personalized chunk of the big picture, once and for all, in all its elegant simplicity. I also understand that the wave of technology might have you feeling

Roses on Untouchable Seas

2010-07-27T15:49:00.003-04:00

Romantic love... It feels like a hall of mirrors. That maddening catch-22 of reflected reflections, infinite illusive depth shining from behind an impenetrable surface. Do I love someone because they love me? Or do they love me, because I love them? Can it ever possibly be the same kind of love, from one soul to another? I had questions. Questions about whether I loved him, and whether his love

The Clever Slip

2010-07-21T18:16:00.002-04:00

So... The posts have been getting what other people would consider heavy. It's a fault of my full-time spiritual advisor, myself, to become didactic when overjoyed for no apparent reason at all. If I'm happy, the world must be just as happy a place for all, no? Nope. It's not. And I'm not, all the time. I've been crying over trivial meaningful events. I've been angry and shouty. I've been

The Process of Now

2010-07-19T15:11:00.002-04:00

Joy overwhelms me as I breathe. I feel air. I feel each piece of air. Vibrating strands reach their fingers into the roots of my lungs. Air, precious. It sparks in every moment, in every cell, revolving, rotating, rolling forward. This is life. It's all that life is. I feel my stomach contract, congeal, coalesce, kneading the necessary into my bloodstream to be lit on fire. Confusion ends once

Be Leaves

2010-07-19T14:53:00.001-04:00

Disbelief, a barrier to action, constructed by belief itself. It's true, I've believed. I've held disbelief. But, that gate is to be lifted, so that I can feel clearly. Three statements come to mind when dealing with knowledge, beliefs, and the fluidity of thought. One: "The cup should always be emptied." This is in reference to a story often accredited to Bruce Lee, concerning the emptying

Is It Long, Or Is It Wide?

2010-07-15T12:38:00.001-04:00

Viewpoints. Pshaw. If you hold onto none, you avoid the pains of conflict, but toss your soul to the wind. On the other hand, being picky and holding only one invites stagnation and an anti-creative death. Apparently, many of life's problems lie in holding conflicting viewpoints. Whether it's friction between you and he, or just as commonly in your own mental playground, the bitter battles

The Hourglass, on it's Side

2010-07-13T15:46:00.000-04:00

The paradox of self-promotion has lassoed my common sense. I've written much about the works I have done, in the past. I've even posted pictures, far too many to count, of all of my archived work. I'm receiving feedback, praise, and broadening my network by an infinitesimally minute amount. But something is missing... Exactly. Exactly how many hours of studio-time is accounted for in that?

Exitstential

2010-07-12T15:41:00.003-04:00

I am all about last minute. The last minute is the one that counts. It's the one you remember first. The last minute gets a bad rap, by most accounts, as if it were the worst moment to do anything. In actuality, it's the worst moment to do nothing. The easiest to freeze at, to throw away, as if it didn't count. The buzzer is about to sound, and your 3 point shot isn't even in the air. Because

Dookie Clouds

2010-07-09T15:51:00.001-04:00

A recent post on Raptitude has got me using a new Sanskrit word: Dukkha. It's cool. It reminds me of "dookie", which is exactly the kind of connotation it should have. Dukkha is like the Buddhist term for... uh... Life outside of the moments when you're happy. It's like when clouds are blocking the sun. In Seattle. Anyway, meditation gave me some instructions I'd like to share. With myself. I

One breath at a time

2010-07-08T15:34:00.001-04:00

Life is snowballing and threatening to crush... And yet I'm in love with it. I'm crushing back. I just wish there were more time for sleep. And space for it. I've been working on my life. Working on finding options, the right options, the ones that rule out just as many choices as they create. Working on getting myself out there. And finding it takes more time, effort and focus than I knew I had

Blam

2010-07-05T11:12:00.000-04:00

I'm much more aware of the time, now. The time taken choosing to do nothing. Time spent thinking. Whether it's a past or future decision, the hesitation and reflection are what will trip you up in the next round. They're the biggest affectors, and put a frieze on now, or at least a tighter reign on the time you do have. The irony makes me laugh, but it also makes the serious need for a balance

The Linseed is in My Brain

2010-07-01T15:29:00.000-04:00

I've turned a corner I'm familiar with. I am back working again, my cybernetic paintbrush has reattached itself and my brain is back plugged in and charging. It does not matter whether I am on vacation or not. It does not matter if I am employed or not. Doesn't matter if I'm poor, hungry, cold. I have the power of choice. The walls are falling away, and I can't believe I ever forgot how to be

Lamp-placers Anonymous

2010-06-28T15:57:00.001-04:00

I was startled, this morning, as I was falling into bed. A tinny-recantation of the Taps melody was rapping it's way into my skull, joyfully crowing, though the sun had not yet risen at 3:35AM. Damn he sets his alarms early. I did not sleep last night. Unfortunately for my body, recent "hobbies" mean that I've begun to regard my REM cycles as a goldmine of free time, and it's becoming a very

The Reformation of A Thief

2010-06-24T13:23:00.000-04:00

Stealing... Out of necessity. It's a crime of poor management, poor strategy, "poor me" syndrome. An inability to compromise, whether out of a real disparity between income and cost of living or simply an unwillingness to sacrifice "wants" for "needs". As a fool, I have made a habit of surrounding myself with fools. People who look to the herd for guidance and values. Dream chasers who never set

Flowering of the Lotus

2010-06-22T14:30:00.001-04:00

So, today was amazing. I did the same things I've been doing, in the same places, aside from starting one page of crazy sketches. That's a key ingredient. It's all clicking into place. It all makes sense again. I am who I am, and there are no rules to follow. With no path to carefully tread, I'm free to roam the field. That is pure joy. I just hope a red-vested hunter doesn't leap into the

Cool to My Self

2010-06-21T11:09:00.000-04:00

Today, I thought cool thoughts. And was cool. And didn't have to try. I found that all of this introspection was for naught, and I understand now why my learning binge was totally not cool. Why wise Buddhist teachers warn their students about the quest for knowledge. Why magazines can print the same shocking expose's month after month. All the things that you pick up in this life are disposable.

So Sad... So Young

2010-06-17T12:15:00.001-04:00

So I'm making my own drawma today. That was my subconscious having a wet dream about reality, that there typo. Anyway, I'm fabricating myself some emotion, building on that far-off blip that used to mean a storm on the horizon, but who cares now? I know the rains will come, and they will wash away nothing. I thought, today, about a world where no one else existed. I thought this might be my kind