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Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Pale Blue Dot

"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Truth Lies Here

War is an ugly thing. It destroys lives, property, and worst of all, history. It's ironic that most wars are fought in the name of defending "that which is right", and yet when the dust settles, the truth is lost. Each side goes back home, glorifying its "martyrs", it's remarkable stories of courage and valor, and an undisputed claim to victory. These stories trickle down into school textbooks, telling future generations a tailor made version of history, poisoning young minds with hatred and false ideas. And in no time, we have entire generations, entire nations that can see but are blind.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

The Peaceful Breakup

What time is it?

How can a few numbers contain all of time?...I can feel your lips. I'm still here.

I can see you. You're beautiful.

You always say that. It's all you ever say.

Now I know why your friends are so smart.

Catharine is not my friend. She's my doctor.

I knew that. But I didn't know it.

Sometimes I think she knows me better than you do.

Do I wanna know?

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Smelling the Coffee

They say that the greatest flaw of consciousness is that it makes us believe the world revolves around us, that we're the center of the universe. It makes us inherently self centered and selfish. Therefore, we often fail to look beyond our own beliefs, opinions, relationships, financial issues, success, sex, family, ego, and pride.

The Man with the Miniature Orchestra - by Dave Algonquin

There were phrases of Beethoven’s 9th symphony that still made Coe cry. He always thought it had to do with the circumstances of the composition itself. He imagined Beethoven, deaf and soul-sick, his heart broken, scribbling furiously while Death stood in the doorway, clipping his nails. Still, Coe thought, it might have been living in the country that was making him cry; it was killing him with its silence and loneliness, making everything ordinary too beautiful to bear.

Thursday, October 04, 2012

History

I never thought I'd say this, but my memories are fading away as time passes by. And as I look back, seemingly ordinary events and incidents feel like my little private treasures from the past. I'm afraid of losing it all, and want to write down each and every thing before time gets the better of me.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

The Summer Man

"When a man walks into a room, he brings his whole life with him. He has a million reasons for being anywhere, just ask him. If you listen, he'll tell you how he got there. How he forgot where he was going, and how he woke up. If you listen, he'll tell you about the time he thought he was an angel, and dreamt of being perfect. And then he'll smile with wisdom, content that he realized the world isn't perfect. We're flawed, because we want so much more. We're ruined, because we get these things, and wish for what we had." - Don Draper, Mad Men

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Clay

Piece by piece, bit by bit, I give myself away
Not every month, or every week, it happens every day

I close my eyes, I count the pieces
Of me I've given away

They're distant, can't reach them
So I look the other way

They seem all happy, life is great
Not guilty, full of play

I miss you all, and often wonder
If you miss me the same way

Stay in my thoughts, just one more look
This pain might go away

Just turn around, and see this wreck
Some broken dreams of clay