It's All Relative

It is a beautiful thing, that day you realize that nothing is real. Rather, that everything is real. That perspective is reality and you are in complete controll over your life.

Everything is real. Everything that is, and all that is not. All of it real. Existing, if not in the present, then in the whispers of a future time. In the mind of a child. In the words of a friend.

Worlds together, worlds apart.
There is no end in sight.
To minds the writing is the art
which helps to spark the light.

Immigration

You are not special because you were born here. You are not special becuase you moved here. You are not special.

Who are you to shut the doors? Did you build this country?

Are you worried about your job? About taxes for healthcare?

I can tell you one thing, I'd much rather have a thousand of illegal immigrants trying to provide for their families the only way they know how than have a million ungrateful American "citizens."

Pride and Excuses

What is the point of writing if you're too afraid of how it might come out?

Writing is like taking a picture. You don't stand around with a camera waiting for some grand inspiration or idea to take you. You go and you make opportunity. And maybe the shot doesn't come out alright, but you took it didn't you? And now you have something to learn from, something to look back on, something of yourself.

I stood around with my camera these past twenty days, and I took no pictures. I made no memories. I had nothing to share. And for that I am ashamed. Do I expect perfection? Can I not take a risk by writing what I think? I became fabricated. Mechanical. And I cannot promise that it won't happen again.

I could blame graduation. I could blame the existential vacuum. I could blame all hosts of things from left to right and money to time but that's not right. That's an excuse. And I will not place my pride above my will to knowledge.

I'm not the next of them. I am the first of me. And I'm back.

Not Enough Time

You don't have enough time to not care. You don't have enough time to waste on sex, drugs, and rock and roll. You don't have enough time because you want to change the world.

That's why you're here, isn't it? Because you want to change the world? If not then I must ask of you a simple question:

What are you doing?

We don't have enough time to not care. We don't have enough time to waste on sex, drugs, and rock and roll. We don't have enough time because we want to change the world.

Fear the Mask

You must never compromise your ideals, even if your motives are good. Your intent, good. Your ends, good.

The mask is an evil thing, twisting, subverting, and before you know it, it will swallow you up like a ship in a raging sea. You are the only one who will ever truly know yourself. That is something you cannot afford to risk.

Though you are one against many, you cannot play by their rules, because the game you win is not yours, but theirs. You must be strong.

Because things are never as they seem. You are never one against many. You are never alone.

Don't wait for others to believe in you. Believe in yourself and they will follow.

Only you know who you really are. Don't throw that away.