death in solitude

A man in a dark blue suit... with a red tie... stands beside me... a young lady wearing a pink overcoat with matching gloves is being gently pulled along as she walks a small, but energetic jack-russel terrier in desperate need of a haircut.. both the collar and leash are a vivid royal blue... the tags on the dog's collar make a light jingling noise as they gently clang against each other as the animal prances along with its owner...  several cars quickly pass my face as i stand waiting... a black amg mercedes, two white trucks (one is a pickup with the tailgate let down- full of long silver metal pipes protruding from the rear)... there is a delicate hint of cinnamon in the chilly air coming from a nearby bakery.. the white "walk" sign is now lit and both i and the man in the blue suit begin to cross the street... i take my first step into the street- just as my foot meets   the cold black asphalt of the road- there is a pain within my chest... i collapse, and am unable to move or speak. There are phones ringing, cars have stopped, people are yelling, sirens are heard off in the distance, lights flash, wheels screech... 

I am alone. in the dark of the night. a rice patty field, wet with yesterdays rain... the marshy ground surrounds me. my bare feet enjoy the feel of the cold wet ground. there is a pen of bulls to my right, gently rustling through the tall grass on the edge of the fields. far off in the distance there is a group of shadows moving in unison. it is a pack of wild dogs. they move quickly. all around me crickets rub their legs together singing their songs to their beloveds. a black string suddenly stands upright... its hood flared- revealing the normally hidden gleaming white dots that now shine bright in the moon's light. i hear a staggered collection of howls from ahead of me... one dog, then two, then three... i am no longer still... they notice i have upset him... i have upset nature.. and must pay. with a single strike, that could be missed with a blink... i am now on the ground... convulsing. the cobra watches for a moment, and then slithers away. no phones ring, no sirens sound, no one screams... i am alone.

Although neither one of these instances actually occurred- though my circumstances were very similar to the second example in real life at one point. i felt these two scenarios would be a good example to explain how loneliness can feel. in the second instance, during a period such as this, an individual can realize how very miniscule he is in comparison to the natural world- how unimportant his existence may actually be. As odd as it may sound, I felt a comfort is realizing my unimportance. The concept of death is included to work as a catalyst in coming to this realization- in retrospect, i was able to more comprehend what i had felt that instant through relating it to a deadly situation. For example, if I had died that very instant, not a thing in the natural world would pause to take notice. Perhaps a wild dog may come to sniff the former me, and then calmly walk away with a natural indifference. But in the end, the world would continue to spin, grass would continue to grow, the crickets would continue to sing, and the next day... the sun would continue to shine- and that brought a sense of calm that is difficult to explain.

i am thankful for...

i would have to say that i am thankful for sir robi presley. his nonchalant demeanor and clever under-the-breath remarks can be quite insightful in the most unexpected of times. while delving into the depth of the ideology of existentialism, it was in fact, mr presley who pointed out stephen's new hair cut with the unforgettable "ay bro, nice haircut!" from across the room. it is this attention to detail coupled with his spontaneity, that is almost uncanny. just the other day, mr presley felt an irresistible conviction to share with a random stranger. he later told me of how he was driven to give a piece of fruit (a pomegranate to be exact  to a hungry classmate during 5th period lunch- though the recipient was reportedly not able to catch the fruit in time- i am sure, he was very thankful. after all, it is the thought that counts. it is this kind of unconventional approach that i have come appreciate more deeply in mr robi presley.

i know this has meaning

happiness. happiness has to have a meaning. people spend their entire lives looking for it in its various forms. for each person, there is a different means of achieving this happiness (an outlet if you will). whether it be playing music, drawing, singing dancing, helping others, reading,writing, white-water-rafting, playing basketball... whatever. and unlike all the other uncertain things in life, i know for a fact that happiness has meaning because nothing- absolutely nothing- can replace it. take for example even a man with everything in the world, material riches, power, influence, women etc but lacking an outlet to his true happiness (say loosing the ability to dance the samba after being injured trying to crip walk down mt everest) there will still be very real and a very noticeable void amongst all else. no matter how many cars he can buy, no matter how many females he has, no matter how he may try to fill that void, he will always be reminded that true happiness has a meaning.

-The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least.

punishment

From the very beginning of the story, Candide endures some very harsh punishments. Voltaire exaggerates the punishments perhaps to cause a greater development in both story line and character growth with Candide; all the while, setting the reader up for a "comical" realization  The unfitting consequences of his actions begin in the earliest chapters of the novel with the Baron exiling Candide into the wilderness for simply kissing Cunegonde. Without these extreme circumstances, the novel would lack the satirical elements that lead to the profound meanings presented by Voltaire.

voltaire's voting for..

Voltaire clearly has some very strong opinions on government  religion, and society as a whole. Seeing that his arguments tend to lean more to the liberal approach of today's Democrats, he would most likely be closely affiliated with the party. Although it is impossible to know exactly, I believe that if given the choice between the two main Presidential candidates o this years election, Voltaire would most likely vote for Obama.

Camus on the other hand, would seem to have a completely different approach in voting- and support of government as a whole. He seems to fall under more of the Independent category of today's political parties; causing me to believe that he would be rather indifferent. Understanding the basic ideology of Absurdism allows me to assume that Camus would probably not even vote. His pessimistic comment "it doesn't really matter" could hold some validity here- Using an approach of "my vote does not directly effect the outcome of the election... so why does it matter" And not only for the Presidential election, but for government affairs in general, I feel that Camus would be very successful in removing himself from partaking in any way shape or form. Simply put, Camus wouldn't even bother voting.

meaning

As I sit here typing this very blog assignment, I am enjoying the very thing that is the most meaningful to my life. Music is more than a stream of melodic notes, more than bass heavy rhythms  more than a bunch of words mixed with subtle messages, more than colors or numbers, or any other way one may see it.

 Music is emotion- the interpretation of emotion, the representation of emotion, the simulator of emotion. How many times have you heard a song, that completely changes your whole demeanor? It can greatly influence behavior, thought, and creativity- all stemming from the emotions and feelings it creates.  Listening in itself, has helped me to get through some of the toughest of mental places. The ability to play an instrument, any given one- can be an indescribable experience. To be at one with something of the physical world, that is the key to the intangible is an amazing feeling. 

Lastly, music is a universal concept. A well composed piece, even in a foreign language, can convey the innermost feelings of the composer. One can determine the purpose/message of a piece without any prior knowledge of the man who wrote it, the culture, or the language in which it is performed. Language barriers do not exist. Neither do cultural ones. The strings, keys, horns, and sound of a voice can overcome this all. Music overcomes our differences. Music is life.

how i know stuff

Name a color... any color.
Blue.
Name something that is blue.
The sky.
Why?
Why what?
Why is it blue?
Well, you see, the color is caused by scattering light. Long lightwaves move through gas easily while short ones (blue waves) are captured by gas particles. The color is given off in all directions in the sky and it looks blue to humans.
But how do you know its BLUE?

Colors, like many things in life are taught. Truth is, I don't know much. I choose to believe or accept what has been told/taught to me and this is taken for knowledge. Take colors for example; during a conversation about life, a man once asked me "What is blue?" I said a color. He then asked, " Well give me an example." I reply "The sky is blue." He then asks "How do you know that the sky isn't purple?... How do you know that long ago, there wasn't a guy who made a mistake? How do you know that he didn't get his purples and blues mixed up? How do you know that he didn't get enough people to believe him, that they too got their B's and P's all mixed up and didn't teach others?" A seemingly simple question with a profound meaning and endless possibilities. The reason I see colors as I do is because I chose to agree with society. I chose to listen to my kindergarten teacher when we went over the color wheel. And she too chose to listen to her teachers. Her parents both, most likely, chose to conform with societies perception. Truth is, we don't know much. We choose to believe a lot. We choose to agree on alot. But we don't know much.

"The average man can't prove of most of the things that he chooses to speak of" - Damien Marley

unexamined life

I don’t believe that any man true to himself can remain the same throughout life. Within just one day, we are presented with countless opportunities to grow as an individual, take a path of decadence, or remain the same. Looking back at these paths are just as important as actively walking them. The greatest joy of life is purpose. Purpose gives motivation, determination, and substance to life. Human beings are very intelligent/spiritual beings. The very thing that sets apart from the beast wandering among us, is not necessarily our intelligence (oftentimes used for animalistic tasks); but more an awareness of one's spiritual-self and those around us. I believe that some of the greatest and most pivotal moments in life come through meditation, evaluation, and self-perceptiveness. Much can be learned through self examination. It is through this process that we may grow the most rapidly; presenting an opportunity to see/ fix a personal flaw that may be hidden to a neighbor. To live a life unexamined is to live an ignorant life. Undiscovered ignorance is detrimental to the individual and the society of a whole. Ignorance is the evil that divides us, that causes war, and blinds the eye. Careful and true self/life examination spurs growth that no other man can encourage. When accompanied with sound morals, an individual removes many of the self-imposed mental barriers that hinder spiritual growth. Simply put- to learn... is to grow... is to live.

i died..

We are gathered here today to honor the beloved Brandon Anthony Bradley. He has left his influence and love for those lucky enough to be in his presence during the all-too-short time he spent on this little blue marble. His charisma, charm, good-looks, and grace has led to a betterment of this society.

On a more serious note, Brandon was born on December 24, 1994 (sharing the same birthday with both his father and grandfather) to Teno and Katrina Bradley. Understanding the importance of a quality education, both parents sought to enroll Brandon in a prestigious educational institution from the very beginning of his education. After receiving an eighth grade diploma from Ashburn Lutheran School, Brandon was enrolled in Whitney M. Young Magnet High School. Some of the many past-times Brandon took part in include: sketching, painting, poetry, football, reading, clarinet, and choral performances. Brandon leaves behind, a loving father, mother, sister, and dog.

His calm perceptiveness has allowed him to live, learn, and share with others those experiences dear to him. Although not always expressed verbally, throughout his later years in life, Brandon grew to more deeply understand the importance of self-improvement, calmness of mind, and power of thought. Striving to exhibit integrity, sympathy, sincerity, and humbleness in all things true. Through traveling, he grew to endear various cultures and religions as his appreciation for diversity continued to grow. In his final days, Brandon wished to leave behind a legacy of peace and love.