Late night ramblings…

Do you know why obesity is in the rise?

Because we consume too much.

We consume everything around us, everything in sight: friends, stories, lives of friends, lives of celebrities, mindless repetitive music, monotony. Sugar. Addiction. A drug, a sickness that inhibits who we really are. Who we can be. The power that that gives us; the power that enables us to see it’s a game, and realize we are just a player.

And we believe it. Those that overeat, that just take what’s given to them without question, those are the ones that can’t see past the lie. They’re in denial about the world, and themselves.

Those that exercise religiously and count calories all the time, are also in denial about themselves and the world. They live the lie, too. They see those that consume too much aren’t happy, and strive to not be one of them, but this unknowingly traps them too. They still accept they are a part of a the game, an ideal that isn’t a reality. Denial.

I think that the sign of humanity and essence is imperfection.

Often times more than not, those that are “your favorite people” are those that have quirks, that are a little weird that walk their own step. Those are the ones worth talking to. They accept who they are, and just let that flourish instead of trying to control it and make it fit in some stupid mold. And these people usually understand that the world isn’t the game we’re told it is, and exist within and with the world with that attitude of acceptance and natural awe towards the beauty that is around us and is us. Just let it be, and just let yourself be. If you have a few extra mountains and valleys, that’s okay. You are just the way you should be; don’t think about it, just be it. And then you will be truly beautiful.

Just like Mother Nature and her daughter Earth is.




“What do you like to do?”

“What do you like to do?”


Being asked this was painful. I think that’d be the best way to put it. I was dumbfounded, 1) because my normal rattling of “reading, listening to music, drawing, etc.” didn’t roll of my tongue (and it didn’t seem to want to), and 2) I really had no idea. 


That was it: I had no flippin’ clue. 


He was asking as a general question that one asks on an introductory meal, but I processed it completely differently than that. For one, he had been talking about things he loves to do and things he does, and things he has done, and I realized how incredibly bland my life was. I also realized I don’t do anything. At all. I go to class, I work on homework, I doodle and read at times and always listen to music, I work, I eat, I exercise, I sleep. That’s pretty much my life. Except for the constant brain activity and attempt at understanding the chaos around me, I’m not doing anything here. Essentially, I have no passion. I have nothing to follow, nothing to let lead me on to the greatest depths of the unknown. Nothing. Zilch. And I know that that passion is what he was asking about, whether he meant to inquire about it or not. It made me feel like a child, honestly, but not in a bad way. It just made me realize that I still have a long ways to go. 

I found myself incredibly embarrassed. I know first impressions last a lifetime (and it’s true, whether you want to believe it or not), and I feel like I completely flunked this one. But, more importantly, I was very disappointed in myself. I like to think I’m experienced and know where I’m going, and know who I am, but honestly, I know nothing. I’m not even legal to drink yet, and I’m still in college. This guy in front of me is doing and has already done more than me, and he’s not talking about what he knows and how the world is: he’s talking about how beautiful the world is, and how there’s so much to experience and see, and what he’s doing to get there and see those things.

This is probably the most humbling experience I’ve had in a while.  

We all need these, but I probably need them the most because I do tend to preach. Being reminded of how small I am is good for me, I think. It’s also a loud reminder that I need to do something productive with myself, and to actually live. People exist, but very few live.

(Isn’t that true?) 


I need to be one of those. I desperately want to be. 


I need to get up, and shake the dirt and dust from my achy, cold body. I need to crack the curtains and open the windows, and see what’s around me. I need to dig out my hiking boots and throw on my coat, grab my camera, and go embrace the world that’s around me, and stop for nothing, and never come back until I have seen everything. Then, and only then, can I rest again in my worn out, practical home. Then, I can preach and tell stories to those that join me at my hearth. And only then.


Stay humble.



(^^there I go preaching again…) 




So, while whipping up a 2am cheesecake, I watched the death of a mosquito. Why are you talking about this? you wonder, but it was rather fascinating, in a very solemn way. Let me explain…

This mosquito had flitted down onto the counter, near the wall and away from where I was whisking peanut butter cheesecake batter. It was slightly larger than the average mosquito; not fatter, but larger. It was an old, distinguished being of it’s kind, and it was obvious to see this. I also noticed that he was struggling; struggling to move his legs, and his wings weren’t moving at all. Seeing this, I didn’t have the heart to kill the poor bastard. Some ancient part of me knew he was dying, and was willing to give him the respect and space needed for Mother Nature to reclaim his body, and Death to reclaim his soul.

As I continued with the recipe, I watched the mosquito jerk and tremble as it tried valiantly to move it’s hair-like legs. I marveled at it’s struggle to move; the Fallen King in front of me was barely able to execute movement. None of it’s legs were broken or bent, and the rest of it’s body was intact; it was simply having extreme difficulty moving itself. It was inflicted with the pain and confusion of his own body shutting down, failing him in performing what he wished it to do in order to prevail throughout life. I could see the vain desperation and grim acceptance as Death overtook it’s minuscule body, one tiny organ and vital motor function at a time. The valiant insect trembled and shook, desperately reaching it’s left front leg forward, as if taking that last step would stop the pain and stop it from falling over the edge of the living world.

I looked at the amber-colored cheesecake batter in the blue bowl in front of me to check it’s consistency, tasted it, and being satisfied I glanced back at the glorious mosquito. The King was on his back, it’s legs in the air, twitching occasionally, relaxing closer to it’s body as gravity overtook him, defeated. I felt a sadness, but also a great reverence for the phenomenon that had occurred right in front of me.  I had just experienced a living body pass into the world of the dead, watched the Great King of mosquitoes refuse, and then accept, the hand of Death. The passing of emotions, the struggle of the dying body, and the passage between finite and infinite. It was beautiful, on the deepest, most natural of levels. Death is just a part of life as a heartbeat is; it is the end, but also the beginning. It is the other side of life that humans do not see very often. It is the other half, the end that creates a new beginning. Death is life’s twin, the duality that many run from, the cold that makes the warmth possible. The duality of the world is ever present, and the coming of death was something I had never experienced. Seeing it was humbling and empowering; a small reminder that I, as well as every other human, am part of the cycle as well.

Until next time,


The Admiration

I admire beauty. I have always been this way, and continue to expand my knowledge and opinion of what’s “beautiful.” This is part of the reason I am drawn to the arts: visual arts, literature, dance, anything. Art also has this amazing ability to show who and what people actually are; and, that little aspect is what has effectively kept me involved with it.

To me, for something to have beauty, it must have meaning. It must represent or show something, whether that be some aspect of the individual creating or performing the art piece, or the thousands of years of natural selection to create the simple house cat, because I believe that nature is an art form as well (more on that in a later post…). Of course, there are different levels and categories of beauty, but they are highly opinionated. To me, people are very beautiful; I love how so many different qualities, experiences, circumstances, and actions come together in some sort of combination to create an essence, a whole. Every person is different; yes, there are more “cookie cutter” types, but I find them beautiful as well, because they are still different than the last “cookie cutter” you met, in some aspect. Although, my favorite people are those types that I have never encountered before, the rare ones. Not that I’ve met too many people yet, but I have run into my fair share. But because I consider my love for individuals a passion of mine, I have whole-hearted intentions to meet many, many more.

What brought this idea on for a post was reading a fellow blogger’s most recent entry. I met him where I attend college, and he is an excellent writer. Of course, the word “excellent” does not encompass his writing, but it will suffice for now. As I was reading his entry, I could not help but admire the way he spun the words with delicacy and dry irony, somehow making his sentences spit inconspicuous bits of fire behind a veil of refined cloth without burning the masterpiece down- because even a simple blog entry is a masterpiece for a true writer. Knowing this individual in person I know that, in essence, he is like this. I admire him very much for this quality for many reasons, one of which simply being that it is who he is. He, as a person, is beautiful to me, but his writing, which is what he utilizes to grow and show his soul to the world, is just as beautiful, if not more so. I say this because we as humans tend to have our true personality tripped up and altered by expectations, past experiences, and other things on it’s way from within ourselves to the world outside of us. Art, in my opinion, is a way to bypass all of this and let your soul shine through for what it is. And when people learn to utilize art to do this successfully, it is a truly beautiful phenomenon