Dare to Dwell

"Chronic remorse... is a most undesirable sentiment. If you have behaved badly, repent, make what amends you can and address yourself to the task of behaving better next time. On no account brood over your wrong-doing. Rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean.... Art also has its morality, and many of the rules of this morality are the same as, or at least analogous to, the rules of ordinary ethics. Remorse, for example, is as undesirable in relation to our bad art as it is in relation to our bad behaviour. The badness should be hunted out, acknowledged and, if possible, avoided in the future. To pore over the literary shortcomings of twenty years ago, to attempt to patch a faulty work into the perfection it missed at its first execution, to spend one's middle age in trying to mend the artistic sins committed and bequeathed by that different person who was oneself in youth-- all this is surely vain and futile. And that is why this new Brave New World is the same as the old one. Its defects as a work of art are considerable; but in order to correct them I should have to rewrite the book-- and in the process of rewriting, as an older, other person, I should probably get rid not only of some of the faults of the story, but also of such merits as it originally possessed. And so, resisting the temptation to wallow in artistic remorse, I prefer to leave both well and ill alone and to think about something else." ~Huxley

Saturday, March 7, 2009

It's No Lie

It's so wrong, but it's true.

I wonder when it will stop, when I stop picturing others as clueless.

Sitting in the library one evening before an examination.

Everyone stressed, nervous. Frantic.

While everything happened in such a whirl, I remained relaxed, slouched in my chair ready to conclude the day.

There is a glass wall around me, an invisible one. No communication is allowed to go through me.

I just sat there, watching everyone else live, watching everyone else suffer. Goosebumps.

I couldn't pause this movie. I was locked in, wrongfully believing I was superior, that I was the one, that I was the only one that had it all figured out. Life.

Ten minutes pass, fifteen... twenty...

Same thought, same arrogance, same me.

Is this what we're afraid of telling? Is this the secret of the human being? Are people afraid to be hunted down for feeling this way?

"I don't get it, why would you feel bad about this, it's human nature to have a bit of selfishness and arrogance."

"Because I feel like I'm the only one."

"I feel like I'm the only one that feels this way."

At that point in time, something was wrong, yet so right. Something was annoying, yet comforting. Something was changing. Realization.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Dynamic Duet

Heart and Mind,
Both are put on a daily grind.

Constantly, they fight,
Constantly, with all their might.

The Heart.

Half the time it experiences a sting,
Half the time it has only one wing,
Half the time it is being tugged by a string.

The Mind.

Half the time it cannot think,
Half the time it puts you on the brink,
Half the time it is logical,
Half the time it asks why be dictated by all biological?

I just want to have control,
I just want it to be natural,
I just want, no, need,
Heart and Mind simultaneously on patrol.


Sunday, February 22, 2009

Merely a Memory

This is a story of emptiness. This is a story of hope.



She never knew what it truly meant to me. She never understood what made us important. Actually, she never knew about us. What values and wonders this bond held she would never uncover; it would dust away in time.

"After my car accident on Monday, after my car withstood a significant jam on the passenger's door, after I lost my driver's license, I didn't know what to think. I was on the verge of breaking down, wondering what else could possibly go wrong. I said to myself: "My life is miserable."

But then it dawned upon me that I have been living on my own for seven months now. 15,000 miles and every mile was worth the trip. What I have experienced has changed me exponentially, nothing measurable. If what I had accomplished beforehand was any indication of my potential, then I sure have had some "psychological governor" implanted in me. So while I changed as a person, my achievements and successes have just as much declined. But I do hold one possession, one that I appreciate more than ever. And that is the one I love. I told her yesterday afternoon, that if my bad luck was that bad, then I would've never met you. For that is true. I can complain and have my run of misfortune make me suffer, or I can alter the curse. I still fight everyday to stay alive, to enjoy life; I fight everyday because I believe. I can be more than I am.

...

Last night, I told her,"Thank you." And then she told me, "No one else can drive you to class today. Who else would?" And I turned towards her, and for the first time I realized how magnificent it felt to have someone care. In the past, it was just satisfaction, but this time, it was more than just satisfaction; no it wasn't that shallow. This time, it was love."

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Some Things Never Change

Sacrifice is what you have to give up,
Sacrifice is what you have to let go,
And in order to become a mature grownup,
You will have to accept what you have to forgo.

Change is what the future warrants,
Change is when the clock is ticking,
And although you want those as constants,
You will have to accept what's beckoning.

Sacrifice and change,
Two words that can derange,
Two words that can estrange,
Two words that can rearrange.

These two words you can't escape,
These two words will make you scrape,
But these two words can bring out the best,
Two words that put every human to the test.