How strange it is that people cant find the attention span, or the will, to listen to six minutes of just peace. A song with no lyrics that evoke such a strong feeling of..calm. It may not be a song that deals with the wrong doings of society or shouts words of hate upon a failing political system. But for just those six minutes, you can feel a brief reprise, be taken to an entirely different mind set, one without words. Its like being taken thru your own flash back of moments, happy or sad they are distant so they do not feel keen, rather a hazy feeling of remembrance.

Its been such a strange day today, found of some shocking things. Came to realize i hold double standards. But it ended in a good note, so there is no reason to re-hash old feelings of discomfort when i am no longer uncomfortable. That is honestly not to say that you should forget everything that is hard to deal with, but ive come to grips with it and am no longer so directly upset by it. So ill just let it be, because it has been done and is over. To live in the past is to have died.

look into the air

-ian

The past recedes, hindsighten me

Bah, dear god. The past recedes, hindsighten me. It is so strange how moments pass and they are nothing. Often seem trivial, pointless or even painful. But as it is with many a flash back, the memory appears sweet and fogged in a romantacised haze. A sugar cloud clotting the bleeding vein called time."time regained is paradise lost" Details are lost, well not lost for me anyways, but less acutely felt. Its not so much a sharp needle in my arm, as a strange dull, ache, remembered pain. Aslan and C-reezy...who'da thunk it kids? Its pretty crazy right? So my predicament is not so bad, not bad at all, a simple miss understanding 'old sport'.

i sure hope this hindsight, receding past, sweet hazy fog of memories dont lead me to believe, or remind me that this point in my life will be the best, i hope highschool isnt the crowning moment. I do hope it is at least a building block or..stepping stone? At the very least a neccessary shot in the arm, that inoculates me to all the idiots i will meet later.

thats all for now, i need to get some shut eye, Im starting early morning stretches soon, with two people, three if you include me.Well have a good night Ian, for your the only one who reads these, but their more for you anyways. Dont worry so much about how it reads, compared with your older ones, or their newer ones.

-for emma
Ian

we make our own destiny

WHY! why does everyone feel the need to try to sexy everyone up? Is that the only thing matters in life? I suppose it is, its the vice, the muse, the treasure, the curse, the soul, the shame, the great ecstacy and finally the great bane of humanity. innocent children grow pliable to it's firm and un yielding hand. So must they tho if we as a race are to continue.

Its so sad to see something thought of as naive, something you wished would just stay naive and ignorant. Waving hello to the criminals earnestly because they looked sad. Only to find her doing some seemingly ,un,avoidable act of age. The way society and peer pressure and just overall acceptance of higher tolerancy levels. Not to say that i am far from fault. Im Not, im part of the problem, when i see older people or even those my age doing, i see nothing wrong with, even enjoy it. It just seems so wrong, out of place. But people do grow up, they eventually snap from the bindings we placed in a futile attempt to stunt and curve their growth to fit our ideas and notions.

Destiny is in your own hands, fate is a myth. A lazy excuse for people who do not wish to try, and when they do try and fail, already they have set up a convenient scape goat. Let no man decide your will. Your mind is a home, guest are just that, people you have the ability to let in our force out,Of course there are burglars and intruders.

-Ian

Why do we put so much stock into being remembered? Your gone, dead, your brain and ego or buried. Shallow or deeply has no relevance your buried and dead. So what do you care if your remembered or not? Do budahs bones glitter with joy at how loved and respected he is so many years after he's died? I sure don't think so. Unless we are aloud to feel pleasure in heaven over our earthly deeds. Not to sound like I'm hating on budah, I think he was great, but what does it matter that I think he's great, does it matter to anyone but myself? I suppose its only a comforting gesture, a pacified, to think about at the end of your life. I'm gonna be remembered...ya sure I am, people will miss me.. but for how long? A day a week?

Live in the moment then??
Not sure

Hindsighten me, the past recedes

i might elaborate but i dont know, im very tired. The explosions in the sky show, was so incredibly breath taking. Like ryan who i met there said, "it was like a spiritual experience" and i couldnt agree more. i was moved to an entirely different dimension, where music was emotion, and emotions where raw. Memories came and went as if they were happening then for the very first time. The passion with which they played was just..breath taking. It was a performance yes, but i believe it would have looked the same if they were simply practicing in their homes. They love and feel what they are doing, that is the thing about music, music done right,is a very spiritual and emotional experience because it all comes from our emotions and soul. Music from pure thought or mechanical procedures is like listening to a machine whir as its cogs continue to grind, day after day.

ill maybe come back and edit some more, im so tired tho i lose my thought after each punctuation mark.

Peace

-The earth is not a cold dead place