If at first you don't succeed... ah hell who cares?

Who cares?

It's a very dangerous question to be thrown around. Once it starts, it's also very hard to stop. However, there is hope. There is one form of the question which can be asked without incurring any of its ill-fated side-effects.

Buddha taught that all suffering in this world comes from desire. Fundamentally, even if one wished to end suffering in the world, that desire to end desire is itself a desire. What we need then, is to stop caring.

Sounds horrible doesn't it? But drop some of those negative connotations your parents and your society have shoved up your ass. You don't need to care. Worrying, even about important things, is one of the most useless ways to use your time and energy.

Yoda was a Buddhist. A damn good one too.

"Do or do not, there is no try." The significance in that statement is not the usually misunderstood interpretation that you only get one shot so you better do it right. Rather, the emphasis is on the actual act of doing. Shut up and stop bitching. Or, shut your mental bitching if you're not doing it aloud. Nike sucks, but "Just do it."

Don't just have a desire to do something. Desire leads to the dark side, if we wish to continue this Star Wars analogy. All types of desire. Even a desire to do good. Instead, the only way to do good is (rather ironically) to just do good. Do not think about it. Do not plan it. Do not desire it. It should happen naturally. Just do it.

I'm writing this because I had a rare little bit of spiritual enlightenment last night. Oh the things you'll start thinking about when the lights are off and you're alone. I began to worry about all the things I had to do in the next few days, all my obligations, all my college applications, all the Mu Alpha Theta things, just... everything. And just when it became almost too much, too much to think about, I had a... well I'm not sure what. A moment. Nothing happened. That was what was special about it. I had a moment of... nothingness. And I became very peaceful, the type of peace that comes about only in complete emptiness. And the very next thought that popped into my mind was very simple: whatever I had to do, I would do.

Ponder that if you wish. I have. It is enough. Enough for any challenge, any clamor for your attention, any incessant nagging doubts in your mind, and any voices of disquiet. All those "but what if?"'s that used to be barriers, they will become like sand on a beach to the ocean of your existence. Existence is enough. Whatever it is, do it. Every moment is so rare. Treasure it by using it.

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Maybe this isn't heaven, but it sure as hell beats where I was before.

80th Birthday... Sort Of

Well, it's post number 80. But to call it a birthday would signify that each post was somehow so far removed from the adjacent ones that it deserved to be accorded its own short-lived era of time.

Or perhaps I'm just schizophrenic enough to divide the past 8 months into roughly 80 different episodes. With all the mood swings I've had I might as well be a woman. Wait.

:: takes a piss standing up ::

Nope, still a man.

Just a very... erratic man.

I remember from some ancient piece of an otherwise long-forgotten vocabulary lesson from an English teacher of mine who by now is most likely dead that very phrase. Actually, it had been part of a test, one of those fill in the blank with one of the given choices type dealies, where it was "... was a very _________ (erratic / eccentric) man." I remember this question so vividly because I was the only one in the class who got it "right." The teacher was so frustrated that no one else had put "eccentric" that we spent a whole day going over this single question. I spent the whole day smirking and napping at everyone else.

Later, I learned that erratic was acceptable, just not "good English." Well damnit, who cares about "good English?" I have friends who find it difficult/amusing to say they are doing good at everything from school to relationships; I don't mind them and they don't mind me when I do mind them enough to correct them.

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The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Blessed are the SL's for they shall inherit the 7's

mozismyquarry: God wrestles ib gods?
mozismyquarry: since when?
FreshPokerOrange: well you have to ask first
FreshPokerOrange: and when He wins, ask Him to do us a favor
FreshPokerOrange: or, if He doesn't win, we can always worship a golden statue of dr Y or something

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I suppose I could be a little more productive right now.

Bah, as a friend once said to me.

Bah.

Can't Stop Falling on My Ass

I can't do this anymore.

It was easy at first. Oh so easy. One wasn't enough. Two, still nothing. And before you can stop to think, you've already committed yourself in a thousand different directions. Mu this, IB that, and somewhere in between, I have to squeeze out enough time to fail Calc. III tests.

I bet Rain $5 that I got less than 50% on our latest test.

I'm already spending that money in my head.

I didn't know what I was getting myself into. How the hell could I know?

So now life is nothing more than one continuous exercise in crisis management. I have just barely enough time to deal with each urgent problem that comes up. My life feels in many ways like one big rolling blackout; some parts get ignored when momentarily more important things come up. And it doesn't seem like much of a problem, but it is. There is nothing more painful than being ignored. In the long run, the damage may be irreparable.

But I can't admit it. Not really anyways. Whining here doesn't count. It isn't resolution. It isn't freedom. It's a quick loosening of a few chains. Fleeting feelings of responsibility-less-ness.

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Grit your teeth, put on your best dogged grin, and get your ass back in the saddle.

You're not done yet.

Not to Steal My Own Thunder but...

Who needs to do Chem IA planning (a)'s anyways when you're 17?

Hell, I should be watching an R-movie or something.

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"I wish you'd come with me."
"Busy busy busy."
"I know, but couldn't you just spare two little hours for a movie?"
"Busy busy busy."
"Fine, I don't like you either."
"Did I say that?"
"You sure as hell never say the opposite of that either."

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Do these little dialogues make any sense? Anyone? God, are you there? It's me, Cody.

Of course You're there. The real question is, am I here? Hard to tell really. If I were here, wouldn't I be at least slightly more attached to here, wherever here is? Truth is, I'm better than just a chameleon. I don't just fit in to one place at a time. I'm a teleporting chameleon. I will fit in everywhere all at once. How do I know I can do this? Because I fit in so well that I disappear. Right out of sight and out of mind. I've been looked through and looked past so many times I take eye contact for granted.

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I see you and you see me, but it's really just a terrible misunderstanding.

Happy 16.99178644763860369609856262833676th Birthday!

For all you super clever people, the trick now would be to figure out what day my birthday is on, given I posted this the night of November 9th, 2005.

Oh man, this will either be the greatest, or worst Mighty Mu ever. I hate mediocrity. Either do a damn good job, or crash and burn.

Entropy would say, eventually, I'll crash and burn.

Mom would say, eventually, I'll crash and burn.

You would say, eventually, I'll... you get the picture.

Do you really need people to believe in you first, before you succeed? Or should you have to give them a reason to believe in you first? I think a little blind faith at certain times can go a long way. Buddha knows I'd like some right now (ok, no self-respecting Buddhist anywhere would ever make that sort of statement, just so you know).

Life is like a box of chocolates. A box of some good, some bad, some surprising, some disappointing, some that make you want to cry for joy, some for sorrow, some for regret, some for redemption, and also some poison chocolates. There might even be a little piece thats covered in chocolate but is really a small bomb that will blow up once you put it in your mouth, after which you'll have a beautiful collection of straight and pearly teeth... in your skull.

Ok, maybe Rush Hour 2 wasn't THAT great...

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And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadow of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we’re apart

You wandered down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now a stardust of yesterday
The music of the years gone by

Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely nights dreaming of a song
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you

When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
And now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song

Beside the garden wall
When stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
Of paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain

My Advice: KISS

No, I'm not telling you to go out and randomly kiss people.

Would you listen to me if I did?

You never listen to me.

I never listen to me.

Therefore, you and I, we're the same person.

Logic.

Terrific.

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Keep
It
Simple,
Stupid

Advice that goes a long way. And it's cheap. Not entirely free though. What should I charge you for it? A few moments of your time is enough I guess. That's all I can reasonably assume that you'll be willing to pay me. Hey, you're here already aren't you?

Don't you wish things were different?