Archive for the ‘ Inspiration ’ Category

Molon Labe

This post has been sitting in my upload cue for a couple of days now. The app crashed once and I rewrote it. I had to turn my phone off another time and it deleted all of my unsaved changes.

I like the title. So I’ve decided to rewrite it a third time. Only this time from scratch. A few days have modified my views somewhat; the perspective gained, however slight, over the original text is worth the effort I think.

And since it’s my blog, whatever I think should be done, is what gets done.

It’s nice to actually have full creative control over things. Editors are my bane.

So, Molon Labe

(Pronounced in modern Greek as mo-lone la-ve.)

μολὼν λαβέ!

It’s inscribed, engraved rather, on the statue of Leonidas at Thermopylae. It means: “Come and take them.”

Fitting words for a last stand. My original post was about the stands that we all take in life. Its an absolute truism that at various times everyone must stand firm in their belief and the rightness of that belief.

I’ve always been interested in the idea of values, morals and ethics. Every class I took had a component of those concepts to them. I always wonder how much of them are inborn and how many are simply learned behavior.

Do we all have that kind of ethical greatness within or are we but mimicking the best ideals we’ve been taught?

And if they are a mixture of the two, why are so many people able to ignore both their instinct and their indoctrination to perform such awful acts upon their fellows?

It’s something to think about.

Outlawry

“A true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in his heart and the reason in his mind. The outcome is the balance of might and right.”

-John Teller

I find inspiration in the oddest places.

Cold

I’ll start this with a simple thought: I hate being cold.

I remember when we moved to the states, I had never seen snow and cold to me was a balmy seventy or so degrees.

I was disabused of that idea fairly quickly.

It’s been raining, a lot. Fall/winter rain is a whole different experience than summer rain. In the summer you get this wet/warm smell that instantly transports me back in time to the central-american jungle.

Winter rain just freezes on my windshield and reminds me only that I need a new ice-scraper.

I think I may need a break from writing to live a little more, I sense a repetitive staleness to my work that is completely unacceptable.

Yup, all that from being cold.

Nosce Te Ipsum

My mind is such a strange place. I wish I had the vocabulary to adequately describe the things that fly through me daily.

So many ideas, such random thoughts. It’s so hard to concentrate sometimes. I literally have to force myself to stay focused on whatever I’m doing, it’s often a supreme act of willpower to do so.

I fail a lot.

I hate routines. The seeming monotony of daily life grinds on my soul. Every second of every minute of mundanity eats away at me.

I crave excitement, adventure, adrenaline; experiences. I’ve never been greedy. I don’t care about material things; money has always meant (and always will mean) nothing to me.

I don’t want to look back from some distant point in the future and say: “Well, at least I’ve got a lot of stuff.”

The things that really matter to me are very simple: friends, family, love.

That’s the test of this life if you ask me; what wouldn’t you sacrifice? Is there anything that shouldn’t be risked to find your soulmate?

I think the answer is an easy one. The path is riddled with traps, with shortcuts and wrong turns. The only test that you have to pass is from the face staring back at you in the mirror; if you can’t look yourself in the eyes and say: “Sure I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve learned from every single one, I’ve grown from every bad decision, every wrong step…” then you’re failing your own test.

I don’t know that everyone asks themselves these questions, but it’s something that is on my mind every single day. That first look in the mirror before the day begins will always tell me what I’m doing right or wrong.

Being honest with yourself is hard but it’s the first step to being truly comfortable in your own skin, the first step on the path to the pursuit of happiness that Jefferson knew was every human being’s right.

Look, look hard and deep, internalize everything you can and use it – it’s the fuel that powers the human spirit, it’s what makes or breaks each and every one of us.

I am a lot of things; what I do defines me – to an extent. To a greater extent – I define what I do.

One of the things that I am: very strange. I rather like that, it means I’m thinking, always thinking, and pushing, ever pushing.

What are boundaries if not to be crossed, explored: pushed ever outward?

We’re given limits the minute we begin to decipher the world, our views are tailored by the culture we’re born into.

Even our languages are a language of limitations, borders and boundaries. We’re taught to be productive citizens, we’re taught to be all sorts of things, everything except individuals.

I believe that circumscribing the possibilities inherent in all humans is a mistake. We lose so much genius, we lose things there are no names for, things that could be that never will.

There is too much fear in our world. Too much medication and not enough hope.

So fly, fly you, to your fences and walls – to those things that will forever form the borders of your lives.

Elevensies

My thoughts feel odd of late.

I think I may be listening to too much Moby.

This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will, five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain and a hundred percent reason to remember the name.

Sometimes, just sometimes: someone else can say what I want to say better than I can.

Do something amazing today: it’s eleven-eleven-eleven.

Pretty freakin cool.

Eternity

It strikes me as incredibly sad that there is truly nothing eternal about the universe that we inhabit,

Everything we build begins to decay as we build it.

Even ideas die. There can be no forever.

Rando

Let the randomness begin, anon, as it were:

The line at GameStop for MW3 was insane, I’ll just go ahead and wait until tomorrow for my copy.

The nanowrimo novel is going well, it’s fairly insane. I like it muchly thus far.

I also wrote a synopsis for a standalone, backstory novel from my series.

It’s going to be pretty wicked.

But I’m not writing it until after I finish the first and second chronicles.

And maybe a couple of other projects that I’d like to do after the chronicles are complete.

I’ve got too many ideas, and the flu.

Soooooooo, goodnight wordpress peeps. Hmmmm preeps maybe?

Yeah, night preeps.

Groove

There are moments, moments that hit without warning, in which everything feels perfect.

When everything dials down to a perfect contentment, as though your wheels have hit a groove; smooth, effortless.

I love that.

Life is wicked cool.

Fulcrum

I had a way then losing it all on my own
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown
And I’m not sleeping now, the dark is too hard to beat
And I’m not keeping now, the strength I need to push me

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I’m alone
And so I tell myself that I’ll be strong
And dreaming when they’re gone

‘Cause they’re calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I’m alone
Home

– Ellie Goulding

Good song, I like the bassnectar remix muchly.

I have had a couple of days to breathe, which is nice but still somehow feels somewhat counter-productive.

Kicking the energy level up several notches in the morning. Life doesn’t wait, it passes by while you make plans that never achieve fruition, while you dream dreams that never become real.

I don’t want that. I don’t want to look back upon wishes wished, now filmy and indistinct. I don’t want to regret not jumping when I could, never leaping without looking just because I was afraid of where I’d land.

I’m never scared of where I’ll land, I let fate handle that end of the business;
my job is to make sure I stick it.

My writing moves. It moves forward, now sprinting, now crawling-but always forward. Writing two books at the same time is interesting…I don’t recommend it.

This upcoming week is going to be intensely busy.

Bring it.

Revitalize

Parov Stelar’s Booty Swing from The Paris Swing Box never fails to make me grin.

In other news I’ve been google earth’n the world, looking for sweet stuff to jump off of.

I need adrenaline. I believe I’ve mentioned that before. It’s one of the things that I really just have to do now and then to feel human.

I don’t know that I’ve really got anything deep or super-interesting to talk about today. I did learn some more about proper stress management this week though, that’s for sure.

I find that I’m somewhat less engaged in casual conversations of late; as if my mind is shrugging off those machined pleasantries and searching for purpose and meaning instead of just letting the banality of most interactions pass by unmolested by actual thought.

I am an oddity. Purposeful enigmatic-ness/ism is too much work, I’m just genuinely strange.

I rather enjoy that.

I also enjoy making up my own words or adding prefix/suffix items that were never really intended by the rules of the English language to describe things.

And anthropomorphizing concepts/objects.

I could go on but I think that about covers it.