i think im in love, and i have no one to talk to about it

kevin asked this question, and my response to him i thought would make a good entry on its own. here it is.

what is greatness?

 

greatness isn't the tangible.  its the intangible.  everyone wants to live forever.  everyone wants to leave something behind.  a legacy.  the pharaohs of egypt, their pyramids will crumble, and their treasures have been robbed.  the empire of the mighty romans have fallen, their buildings are deteriorating.  but the intangible, a thought, a reason, a story, an epiphany, they live forever.  they are what generations to come will talk about.  they are what your name will be tied to through out time.  greatness is achieved by those that live forever.  not in the tangible sense, but the intangible.

 

kh.

Its funny how one can be in a room full of people and feel lonely.  Or how one can surrounded by friends and feel resentment.  And it’s funny how one can fall in love online, with out ever meeting their lover in person. 

 

When I look back on my life I find it funny on the path I’ve taken.  The saying “It’s better to have loved and lost, then to never have loved at all,” is one aspect of my life I wish I could have changed.  Under the influence of Ethanol, a good friend of mine told me her life story.  And it made me wonder if I were to die, and have a book written about my life, would any one want to read it?  Would I be known as a person that played it safe, sat in the back of the room being the last one in, and the first one out?  Or would I be known as a person that took chances, fell down, and got back up; raised their hand in class and disagreed with the professor?  I don’t want to be known as the former.  “Grow some balls, be a man,” is what some might say, and unfortunately it’s true.  So now I declare that I’m going to change my life.  “You never know unless you try,” is what they say, and for once, I’m going to try. 

 

The first thing on my list is to tell every girl I’ve liked that I once liked them.  Second, I’m going to raise my hand when I have a question in class.  Third, I want to hug a good friend that I haven’t seen in a long time.  Fourth, I want to sing in public.  And fifth, and the last thing on my list, (for now) is that I want to trip walking to my seat in class, and make everyone laugh. 

 

That’s it for now, there’s many other things I want to do in life, but its better to take on many small task than overwhelm ones self with a huge list.  

I also propose that any one reading this think about their lives, and do something to make it worth living.  Do something that would make a good story to tell friends, or give people a laugh.  Life is too short to live it safely, I AM going to change mine, and hopefully I can change it for the better.

maybe this will give you clues as to who i am



You're black, you sexy creature! Seen as a
sophisticated and mature person, you are liked
by many an adult. But otherwise, you're a
rebellious and controversial person. On the
other hand, you're also very conservative and
and frugle. Is it possible that you enjoy
reading a heavy book? But seen as mysterious
and hidden, it may be hard to find someone to
talk to. You're not a particularly outgoing
person, but you do enjoy a good, long talk with
a person. Debating is one of your favorite
forms of communication. You just enjoy
stirring strong emotions inside people, and
watching the reaction. But as you watch, are
you sipping straight (unsweetened) coffee?

What color are you? (Amazingly detailed & accurate--with pics!)


brought to you by Quizilla
You're a Spring. You usually are very close-knit
with your friends and value everyone freidnship
you have. You're a real people person and
everyone loves how friendly you are. You're
good with encouraging people but usually don't
like to be the center of attention. You are a
social butterfly and probably are in several
circles of friends but it's just because you're
well liked and you make people comfortable.
You're both fun and wise but you are very
realistic about life.(If you can't see tje
pics, go to my homepage and look near the
bottom and find your result)

What season are you? (pics)


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You're the smirk,a frown-smile hybrid that's a
little bit cocky and usually associated with
evil or arrogant,but attractive people.You
probably just don't give a damn,but it's
everyone else's fault if you don't because
you're too awesome to have any real faults.



What Kind of Smile are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
My life is rated PG-13.
What is your life rated?

“Did you hear me?” he says in his authority voice.  I stood there in my place like a little seven year old child should do.  My head down, and I felt like my dad was a brick wall in front of me.  No where to run.  Take it like a man.  Take it like a seven year old.  “Go outside, and pick a branch,” my dad says, there’s crack in his voice from trying to sound like an angry dad. 

 

I hate this part.  Normal parents pull out a belt, whip you, you cry, and it’s over.  My dad’s sick, demented mind though of a way to make punishment worser than that. 

 

Outside we had a tree.  I don’t know what kind of tree it was, but it wasn’t any higher than ten feet high.  The lower branches were torn off from my previous whippings.  I call it whippings, but really it’s a spanking.  A cruel and unusual punishment spanking.  I now have to climb up this tree, the tree that punishes me, and I have to choose the branch that will bruise my flesh. 

 

When I was little I thought choosing the more leafy branches would be smarter.  My dad wouldn’t be able to swing the branch as fast, and the leafs would act as a padding on my bear butt.  But quickly I learned that leafy branches weren’t the way to go. 

 

The thing about leafy branches is that the sticks that hold the leafs in place are really thin. 

 

So this one time I bring my dad this leafy branch.  He gives the thin, leafy branch in his hands a good look then he looks at me.  I’m trying not to smile.  This is supposed to be punishment.  I had thought I had found an easy way out.  I’m still staring at the ground, I look up every once in a while to make sure he doesn’t pick a branch of his own, foiling my plan.  Looking at the ground I try to take my mind off of what is about to happen to me.  Twinkle, twinkle, little star, I sing in my head.  I look up again, and see my dad get a good grip of the branch in his hands.  It’s not supposed to happen this way, he’s doing it out of order I think to myself.  With his other hand, my dad slides his hand through the leafy branch, from bottom to top, stripping off all the leaves.

 

At this point I don’t know what to think.  Keep in mind I’m only five or six years old, and I know nothing about physics.  I don’t know that when my dad swings that twiggy, leafless, branch at my bear butt, it will have the same force as a thick branch.  The only difference is that instead of having all that force spread out in a think branch, it will be concentrated in small twigs.  It’s like having someone step on your toes with a tennis shoe, or with the spike of a high heel.  Both hurt, but one hurts a lot more. 

 

Up above the world so high.

 

Here comes the next part.  I hate this part even more.  My dad, with his sick, demented mind thought of this to make punishment worser.  He brings his head to my ear, “Do know why I’m spanking you?” he says.  I nod yes, but that’s not good enough for him.  “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” he asks again. 

 

My dad, with his sick, demented mind thought of this to make punishment worser. 

 

My dad, he won’t spank me until I tell him the reason why I’m receiving the spanking.  It’s not like I don’t know why I’m receiving the whipping.  I know exactly what I did.  I know I’m not supposed to play in the mud.  But why do I have to tell him that?  He knows why he’s punishing me, I know why I’m getting a whipping.  Can’t we get this over with?

 

“Because I played in da mud,” I say.

 

My dad, he pulls his head away from my ear, and cocks his arm back.  Like a mouse trap cocked and baited with cheese, he takes a deep breath.  “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you,” he says. 

 

I never understood that.  I’m the one receiving the whipping.  How can this hurt him more than it’s going to hurt me?  Keep in mind I’m only five or six years old. 

 

Like a diamond in the sky.

 

The sound of tiny twigs makes that swoosh sound as they cut through the air. 

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

 

The twigs make contact with my bear butt, and it feels like sumo wrestlers in high heals are dancing on my rear.  I scream.  I cry.

 

How I wonder what you are.

 

The tears I am crying out are real tears.  My friends at school say they don’t cry when they get whippings.  I tried that once.  Just once.  My dad, he won’t stop whipping me until I cry.  My dad, with his sick, demented mind thought of this to make punishment worser. 

 

Jump to the present, where I’m married and me and my wife had just bought a house.  I’m sitting on the couch watching the game, and Ashley, she’s my wife tells me to turn off the TV.  “Honey,” she says.

 

“What?” I say, I’m a little ticked off.  The home team was down by one, and they had base runners on first and third, with one out.

 

“I’m pregnant,” she says. 

 

Normal people, they would hug, and cry at a time like this.  But I’m not normal, I know this, and Ashley knows this.  I stand up, and go to the back yard.  In the plastic trash can is a shovel and I grab it and start digging a hole in the corner of the yard. 

 

“What are you doing?” she asks.

 

“We need to plant a tree.”

Why do we do the things we do?  Is our life already planned out for us?  Is our life just a bunch of variables, interacting with other variables?  Can life be so dull that it can be reduced to a mere math equation?  Do we have free will, or is every thing we do a result of our prior conditions?

 

Today I went to a party.  As I do at every social event, I observed people interact with each other.

 

The room was hot and stuffy.  In chemistry you learn about heat of reactions, and delta H.  When you eat, your body breaks down your food in a series of bio-chemical reactions that give you energy, and create heat.  Your body creates so much heat from these bio-chemical reactions that your body is roughly 37 degrees centigrade, or 96.5 degrees Fahrenheit.  Well, when you have a lot of people in a room, all these bio-chemical machines are releasing a lot of heat.  So much heat, that if you had 20 people in a room, and were to suck up all the heat they produced in one hour, you could boil 10 gallons of water.  

 

In any case, the place was hot and stuffy from all these bio-chemical reactions, and I was trying to stay cool, and observe people.  I wondered to myself if my being there would affect my life.  Looking at other people, I could tell that everyone was affecting everyone else’s life.  People were getting drunk, others were playing video games.  The people that were drinking would have their lives affected because they may very likely have a hang over tomorrow.  They might not want to go out the next day.  They might not meet an old friend at another social gathering because they were hung over.  This could go on, and on, and on, one action having an effect on countless actions in the future.

 

Now lets bump up the stakes to something we call love.  There was this guy named Joseph, he is 10 years old, and is beginning to discover girls.  He grew up in a house where he was taught that dating girls is because you are searching for the girl you want to marry.  So Joseph controls himself because of something his parents told him.  He doesn’t pursue any relationships throughout middle school, or high school.  Some would call him socially inept, but really his actions were determined back when his parents told him dating was because he was looking for a wife. 

 

Jump to the present, where Joseph is sitting in a hot, muggy, stuffy apartment full of people he doesn’t know, and a handful of people he does know. 

 

Meet Amanda, she is a girl from Hawaii, and grew up in a totally different home.  She has a different set of prior conditions that affect the way she interacts with people in the hot, humid, noisy apartment.  Amanda talks to all her girl friends: Jane, the hotty; Helen, the drama queen; and Nylen the sober one.  Amanda is very out going, when she’s alone, she keeps herself busy because she doesn’t want to remember her fathers death.  When she’s at a party, she talks to everyone, even Joseph.

 

Joseph likes Amanda.  Amanda only briefly talks to Joseph, “Hi, how are you?” is the actual conversation.  Amanda goes on to other people, and has longer conversations, more personal conversations, than she did with Joseph.  Meanwhile, Joseph sits in the corner of the hot apartment wishing Amanda would talk to him. 

 

Now let’s get out of this story, and ponder my opening statement.  Sometimes I wonder if our lives are laid out for us, and we cannot help do what we do because of our prior conditions.  Every ones prior conditions influencing someone else’s prior conditions, paving the way for what we call the future.  Also I wonder if we control our destiny.  I wonder why I didn’t go up to that girl and tell her what I thought about her.  Was it cold feet, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it?  Or was it because I had no other choice, because of my prior conditions? 

 

Being science minded, it is easier to believe that the past affects the future, and the billions of variables in our lives effect what we do in the present.  I want to believe we have free will, but logically, you cannot argue that we do.