Transcendental Afterglow

Southern California Transit Forum

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 02:28:00 +0000

The OCTA is sponsoring a transit forum on Friday February 5 at Chapman University in Orange to discuss the current transit crisis. Click on the linkfor more information.

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Liebestod

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 10:03:00 +0000

Liebestod
The lantern danced with the devil
Singing liebestod forever.
What a pair they were
Whriling and twirling in their ghastly delight
Lebiestod!
Liebestod!
Forever!
The devil was in the details of the dance
The lantern was is in the beauty
Round and round they went chanting their haunting song
While the lights cast an eery glow on the floor
Where their feet never seemed to touch
But in the end the dance must end
This ode to liebestod
Even the dance has to unite with the one it loves
And then they will spin the night away
In that waltz of life and death
Life and death are lovers
Who as they dance,
Can never touch the floor
And they cry liebestod forever!

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Beauty and Madness

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 10:01:00 +0000

Beauty and Madness
see beauty
you are mad
see madness
you are beautiful
see nothing
you are dead
see the beautful lights
you are blinded
see hope
you are alive
alive you see beauty
but does that not mean that you are mad?

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A Poem About Nothing

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 08:29:00 +0000

A Poem about Nothing
This poem has no point
It is not trying to tell a story
Or convey an emotion
It just IS
And that is all there is to it
No reason no story
No grand design the scheme of things
It just IS
And that is all there is to it
This poem is not trying to occupy space
Or take up anyones time
It has nothing to say
It just IS
And that is all there is to it
Dont expect it to reveal the meaning of life
To do that the poem would have to have meaning
It just IS
And that is all there is to it
This poem really is about nothing
Or rather the absence of nothing,
Which is really an abstract concept
That is impossible for our minds to fathom
How can this poem be about nothing?
It just IS
And that is all there is to it

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A Shadow in the Darkness

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 08:24:00 +0000

A shadow in the darkness
I am a deception
Created by lies
And borne of the shadow
To know me is to see the phantasms in the mirror
Shadow fires burn in my heart
Words of love are meaningless
For lies are true
And words are not words
But are the shadow in the darkness
As much evil resides in me
There is love
Masking the shadow in the darkness that lies beneath
And soon it will strike
The anti-message will fail

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The Value of Time and Money

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 03:52:00 +0000

People often criticize me for not donating money. I see money as an object that has no value and can be replaced. I donate time. Time is more valuable to me than anything else. it can't be bought or sold or traded. To me money is a material object and its rewards are only fleeting. When you spend time with someone the rewards last a lifetime. This may sound like a cliche but perhaps its something to ponder. Spending time doing something has the possibility to create lasting relationships and bonds that can't be broken. What can money get you but the temporary satisfaction of something accomplished or done for someone? That moment is short lived and soon forgotten. Time is the most valuable gift we as human beings have to give. Don't waste it. Once its gone you can never get it back.

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And The Days Go On

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 03:51:00 +0000

And the days go on
The sun sets as
The past gives way to the night
And the period of searching and wondering begins
The objective hidden in the cloud of the heart
And the days go on
What the future brings no one knows
And the night fades away
As the past gives way to the present
Constantly searching for the answer
As the isolation of the past sets in
And the solitude gives way to quiet thought and reflection
And the wondering leads to thoughts and decisions
That both frighten and embolden
And the days go on
What the future brings no one knows
And the night fades away
As the past gives way to the present
Still the thoughts of regret nip at the heels
But with each step they fade like the past
And as the uncertainty looms
The wayward spirit knows
That the days go on
What the future brings no one knows
And the night fades away
As the past gives way to the present
The future may frighten
But it is being scared of change
Is better than than the cowardice of the past
And standing at the gates of uncertainty
The first step is taken
And the days go on
What the future brings no one knows
And the night fades away
As the past gives way to the present

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Esteem or why I have none.

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 21:49:00 +0000

I have learned to associate myself with better people than me so that I have a reason to believe in myself. I guess the reasoning behind that is that if I can be friends with someone who has potential for great things or done great things because then maybe I have the same potential or why would that bother spending time with me? I must be worth it, even though some people in my own family treat me like I'm some child...a classic example of this was this summer when I was doing my internship in New York. My mother came with me, not just for a few days but for the whole summer because as she so clearly stated I wouldn't be able to ever make it on my own. if it wasn't for the fact that my residence only let non-residents in with the permission of the tenants my mom would have been in my home all the time even when I wasn't there. I had paid a lot of money to live there, but I had to be in the untenuable position of telling administrators not to let her in when I wasn't there. To be frank I had to be like that because she's a very domineering person and I knew that it would be the only way that I could have some semblance of independence. all of this while I was trying to deal with my internship and then the death of my sister who had encouraged me to the internship because she's only one in my family who gave a damn about me.
no one should have to do that to their own parents. I felt like I was worthless because my mom has never believed in me. she used to tell me that I dressed like a homeless person all the time...and constantly says that I'm fat to my face. During the summer she gave my bed away and I have been sleeping on the couch like the some visitor in my own home.
Anyways to me this summer was my chance to prove once and for all to her that I could live on my own, but I found myself feeling like the bad guy particularly in one instance when she had called me several times when I was at my internship begging me to rescind me to the order barring her from entering my home when I wasn't there. I knew I was hurting her but she didn't realize what she was doing to me or how I was hurting having to do those things. I knew that if I let her in what would happen, nothing would change she would be there every day. One of the reasons I decided to do my internship in New York was so I could experience a modicum of independence. Even now I wonder where I got the strength to do what I did. Letting her in when I wasnt there, would not be beneficial to my own personal growth. So I stood up to her. I had to. And now I've learned that in order for me to be independent I would have to stand up to her ALL the time. But having to listen to this message of I think you can do it but not without me because it won't be done right has always filled with doubts and insecurities. Because the underlying message of her words is that nothing I ever do will be good enough or be done right and thus always flawed. And she wonders why I have weight problems? Perhaps it hasn't dawned on her that I eat so I can feel better about myself.

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The Ballad of Billy Joe

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 03:51:00 +0000

Billy Joe had always believed in love
Until her husband Brian beat her beliefs out of her
She would tremble with fear
Hoping that he would not come home drunk
Because if he did,
His fists would come raining down on her like a hail of bullets
Their son would see this
And beat on kids in school
Using the same words that Brian used
Like father like son
Billy Joe loved her son dearly
And hated Brian
His constant abuse had left her broken
But one day Billy Joe found the resolve to fight back
Her end to the abuse was simple
She did it without even realizing what she had done
The prosecutor called Brian's murder a crime of passion
Billy Joe always maintained that it was self-defense
Through the trial
And into the sentencing
When she stood before the judge,
He gave her life in prison without the possibility of parole
Simply because she wanted to have a life free from abuse
And a free life she had in her jail cell
Her friends abandoned her
And her son refused to see her
Billy Joe spent many years in prison
Until one of the guards found her
She was hanging from the ceiling by her belt
At her feet was a small note addressed to her son
It said simply: I love you
Her funeral was very small
It was only attended by her son and his wife and daughter
All her son could think about was the lesson he had learned
Love has nothing to do with control or fear or denigration
Love is commitment and respect and devotion

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The City of Angels (A dream lost and reborn) A tribute to Los Angeles

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 08:27:00 +0000

the City of Angels (A dream lost and reborn)
There once was a dream that was Los Angeles
A dream that was once whispered in the halls of power
So as to not vanquish the idea as it wafted through the air
A whisper so soft it seemed as if but a dream
There once was a dream that born in the bosom in the Lady of the Angels
A dream that inspired hope into millions
but underneath that dream lay the nightmare
A nightmare of false illusion and fantasy that destroyed the city.
but even nightmares are dreams of what could be and not of what is.
there once was a dream of a city like no other
a city that inspired dreams and fantasies
a city with possibility and a future as bright as when the city was founded in the bosom of the Lady of the Angels

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New Years at L.A. Live and goodwill to all men and trash talking the Phoenix Suns.

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 12:54:00 +0000

Download now or watch on posterous

video-2009-12-31-23-57-25.3gp (9215 KB)

via Pixelpipe

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Think twice before saying "That willl happen when pigs can fly"...haha

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 01:57:00 +0000

Think twice before saying "That willl happen when pigs can fly"...haha

via Pixelpipe

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Untitled

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 13:31:00 +0000

Download now or watch on posterous

video-2009-12-14-22-35-31.3gp (548 KB)

Happy New Year from L.A. Live!

via Pixelpipe

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Untitled

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 13:23:00 +0000

Download now or watch on posterous

video.3gp (9215 KB)

via twitpic

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Untitled

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 07:50:00 +0000

via twidroid

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A Season of Hope

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 21:49:00 +0000

Because I'm in the mood to write some poetry because its Christmas, here are some of my Christmas favorites written by yours truly.

A Season of Hope

As the bells ring
And the halls are decked with holly
Hope is abound twinkling in the lights on the tree
And the snow falls blanketing the hate and fears of the world
In the pure white hopes of the day that love was born
As children watch the snow fall from their windows
The fire in the fireplace glistens like the hope in their eyes
And they know that the day of wonders has come

And here is another one of my favorite poems.

When The Light Came Down

The Light came a long time ago
It spread a message of hope and Love
Enjoy the Christmas Season for the Light has come
When the Light came down
The world was in Darkness
Now the Light is here to stay
Enjoy the Love of season
Let it fill everyone's hearts with Joy
Never forget the reason for the season
Now everyone sits around the Christmas Tree
and waits for their presents
They don't realize they have all been given a great gift
because when the Light came down
Love was born on Christmas Day

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The City on a Hill

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 08:30:00 +0000

I wrote this speech several years ago. It defines the general philosophy in which I approach life and other people. Our are often filters for what is truth, but they don't always interpret truth as reality. Sometimes they let us see what we want to see. Its sad that I only developed this philosophy after the partial loss of my vision. I guess losing my sight helped me gain insight.

The City on a Hill

The way you look in this mirror is the way everyone else sees you.
People tend to make judgments with their eyes.
The eyes lead to the brain where judgments are made using the information that is given to us.
In my life, people have judged me quite often
because they have no idea what it is like to be me
People strive for tolerance
but we do not have to like what we tolerate
Last spring, I had a conversation with a friend who is blind.
I asked him what it is like to be blind?
He replied and said: "Its like closing your eyes."
I am sure that at some point we have all clsed our eyes so we can see what it is like to be blind.
What I am asking you to do is not all that different.
If you close your eyes, you will be more accepting of those who are different from you.
Acceptance will lead to more relationships and better friendships.
Acceptance is the city on a hill.
It overlooks the vast wasteland of ignorance.
The Road of Understanding winds up the hill, but the way is frought with peril.
The road passes through the city gates:
Tolerance.
Yet, we only stop there and do not enter the city.
We stop because of fear.
If we passed through the gate, then hatred and prejudice would end,
but if not, we would be carried by the winds to the valley below,
and we would destroy ourselves.
If you want to live ,
close your eyes
and take the first step.

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When should we stop caring?

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 05:17:00 +0000

When is it time to stop caring? To stop loving? To walk away and give up on your fellow man?
I have wondered about this question for some time now.  All I seem to get is more questions and fewer answers….
I see people in pain…or hurting…and I have this need to want to help.  I believe people can be better but not made better, but rather inspired to be better…
Perhaps when I see a problem or decent people struggling I can try to reach out and wipe away their tears.  Perhaps I can fight intolerance and hate and inform people about the world around them. Perhaps I can say a kind word or two to people when I see tears in their eyes. Perhaps we can all do those things.  But will it ever be enough? Will it be to the satisfaction of God? Will it be enough to redeem ourselves?
This is something that I believe in fervently.  It will never be enough.  All we can do is what we can.  All we can do is what we were meant to do.

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Billy Joe

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 00:51:00 +0000

Billy Joe had always believed in love

Until her husband Brian beat her beliefs out of her

She would tremble with fear

Hoping that he would not come home drunk

Because if he did,

His fists would come raining down on her like a hail of bullets

Their son would see this

And beat on kids in school

Using the same words that Brian used

Like father like son

Billy Joe loved her son dearly

And hated Brian

His constant abuse had left her broken

But one day Billy Joe found the resolve to fight back

Her end to the abuse was simple

She did it without even realizing what she had done

The prosecutor called Brian's murder a crime of passion

Billy Joe always maintained that it was self-defense

Through the trial

And into the sentencing

When she stood before the judge,

He gave her life in prison without the possibility of parole

Simply because she wanted to have a life free from abuse

And a free life she had in her jail cell

Her friends abandoned her

And her son refused to see her

Billy Joe spent many years in prison

Until one of the guards found her

She was hanging from the ceiling by her belt

At her feet was a small note addressed to her son

It said simply: I love you

Her funeral was very small

It was only attended by her son and his wife and daughter

All he could think about was the lesson he had learned

Love has nothing to do with control or fear or denigration

Love is commitment and respect and devotion

Flying to Make Believe

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 00:50:00 +0000

I wrote this because my inspiration seems to have left me for the moment.

She's gone to the wind
Never to return
I shall miss her so
But the winds of fate have flown her away
To that far a away land of make believe
Where gossamer hopes become reality
And the future remains unseen
And the possibility of what once might have been never looks back
As the light touches the ground in the land of make believe
In the arms of the melodies she sings
Placed there by the music of the world she has taken to be her everything
But I would give anything to have her back
to hear her voice
Her laugh
Her smile
And her tears
I am thankful to have known her
Yet I would give up my pen if just to hear her voice
For my pen is the only gift I have to sacrifice
And I am nothing without it
But sacrifice it I would
So that my Muse may smile kindly on me
Once again

The Forever Love

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 12:01:00 +0000

It lingers on idyllic nothingness
Yet dances to the beat of the heart
As the heart sings of all the joy in the world
While the eternal beat
Thump thumps
Causing the universe to expand and heave with each breath
As infinity wells in the eyes
And perhaps what should be never ends
While the dream chasers
Keep their loves fleeting
But in their hearts and souls
They know their love is forever
Like the daylight it breaks a virtuous new dawn
Of faith, hope, and love
A love that does not judge
And is as unconditional as the day itself
Which casts a light on the darkness in my heart
Showing that the dark is light
And lasting forever
This forever love
Although separated by time and distance
Has never failed or faltered
But has shined in the vast infinity of time
Which measures out love in seconds and minutes Traveling straight and true
To the point
Where faith, hope and love
Intertwine once more
Swirling like oil paint on the canvas of the universe
While the Great Artist paints a picture of forever love
That inspires a beautiful eternity
Of hoping, believing, and loving.

Torn Apart...(a homecoming)

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 11:58:00 +0000

Torn Apart...A homecoming
When the world was torn apart
The wayward spirit found something to believe in
But with what reason could he have known
That he would discover the world again
And see it as something wonderful and beautiful again.
And now the world is falling down around his ears
Like the walls of Jericho
And hope seems to be dying
But every time he closes his eyes
There he sees the muse of all muses
And the world does not seem so dark
But the world is spinning
And the world spins and spins
But there is one thing to seek
In this world
And that is this
One last moment
When the world is falling apart
And everything is thrown into Chaos
And pandemonium
But in that last moment
The true joy of the human spirit is found
And the turmoils and chaos ceases to exist
As the words run forth like water
And the wayward spirit those few brief moments Struggles to make sense of the chaos before him
But is separated once and for all
From the chaos in the process
Finding true purpose
In what he never thought
He could acknowledge
What he ran from since he was a boy
But now finds himself embracing his fears and differences
A struggle that tore apart the earth of his soul
And as the wasteland spreads out before him
He stands his hands exalting the divine amidst the chaos
Knowing that he has come home…

knowing me

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 21:17:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, I decided to visit campus and I ran into two good friends of mine. Its funny sometimes I don't feel different, but I always know that I am. I felt this way when I was on campus, not because my friends were unfriendly but because I found myself struggling to make conversation. I could see the happiness in their eyes as they saw me and I knew my eyes and face were their stoic selves. when I spoke to them I knew that there was this huge barrier between me and them and not just the customary three feet I like to have between me and other people. That distance I often measure out with my eyes. If anyone ever gets closer than that it makes me uncomfortable. In case you are wondering many autistics do this when speaking to people. Having a comfortable distance which is close enough for non-autistics to feel welcome to speak to us but far enough that they can't try and hug us or touch us without us knowing. For some autistics physical contacts bothers us. I barely tolerate being hugged. Our nerves are very sensitive and mine give me this tingling unpleasant feeling when someone touches me ie hugging or putting their hand on my shoulder, or anything else. Yet I hug people all the time, but still cringe a little at times, but the more I do it the more that tingling goes away.
I realize I have completely digressed from my earlier point about barriers.
As I have gotten older and have accepted who I am I have discovered what that barrier is that stands between me and other people:
Autism.
I have it.
Unless people have it they can never truly understand what it is. Evidence of this was when I asked some friends why they never responded to my tweets about autism on my twitter profile. The general response was they couldn't relate to the experience of having autism. Their inability to relate to me often makes me feel isolated and alone when I'm with my non-autistic friends. so today I asked myself the question is it possible to know a lot of people and have never truly know you? Yes. Particularly if they cant understand what you have to go through. People call me remarkable and inspiration when I see myself as neither of those things. I try to just be me. I'm often dysfunctional in my choices and behaviors and often say things that are seen as odd or awkward unless people take the time to listen and understand and get to know me. The best way to know me is to simply ask what is it like to be autistic? I just wish someone cared enough to ask that question.

2009-12-01 19.40.41

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 08:11:00 +0000

2009-12-01 19.40.55

noreply@blogger.com (Robert) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 08:11:00 +0000

The fountain at the Music Center.