Words of a Face

The faces,

So similar to yours, 

Easy to assume 

You share alphabets.

Your sheltered life

Is populated by one nature,

But our world

Knows not just one 

But millions of diverse 

races and alphabets. 

They say the eyes 

Are the door to the soul.

Make an effort

to push open a locked door. 

Ignore the selfish thought

That behind the door

Should be a shared


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Existence – for the curious mind


Who am I?

Now that is a question to be repeated time and time again.

I am but wondrous evidence of a scientific miracle;


That’s cynical you might say,

but must grudgingly accept its accuracy.

I accept that I am a combination of cells that can breathe, behave, and think,

but now, what is thinking?

How can thoughts possibly exist?

How can a mere chemical reaction to one’s surroundings trapped in the mind exist?

Does it exist? There is no proof or evidence.

However, what am I without my thoughts or ideas?

Do I exist?

What does it mean to exist?

Existence is not tangibility.

Which is merely what we humans made up to mean “existance.”

We decided, if we can touch it, it’s real, but if we cannot, it’s a toss up.

In an infinite universe on an infinitesimal home, do we exist? Do we matter?

What is beyond the universe that we claim to know so well?

Maybe our home is part of a child’s toy or a rock that is thrown into the sea.

Maybe all that we claim to know doesn’t exist.

Maybe our big important universe doesn’t even exist at all.

Now that would make our lives seem trivial wouldn’t it?

Does existence mean to matter;

That we play an influential role;

That our presence is significant to others or to fate?

Does existence mean  to be real?

Real in a sense that we can be seen, heard, affect, and be affected?

If so,

Thoughts exist

And I exist,

At least according to the modern mind set.

And who am I to contradict?

A mess of cells questioning my own existence.

We could be blind to our own lies;

Ignorant of reality.

Is it possible to exist in a reality you know nothing about?

Who am I?

Where am I?

Do I exist,

Or are we just cells floating on an infinitesimal home in an infinite universe.

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photo (1)

It pains me to think of all the untold stories; the captivating wondrous stories of mythical lands, dangerous adventures, or an enthralling life that have been taken 6 feet under. So many bursts of brilliance waiting for their owner to shine once again as bright as the idea.

I don’t want to die with the music still in me. I want my body to be like an old candle wick, exhausted from burning bright. Faraway lands resting in the clouds call my name relentlessly. Ideas held hostage in my mind flit about begging to be set free. I want my music, words, and ideas to not only light my candle but thousands of others and thus creating a passionate bonfire of creativity and brilliance.

People shine the brightest when speaking of their truest love and deepest passion. The heart yearns to be known, a desire stronger than any human emotion. Love is the match to the flame, but also to fire itself. Passionate works are the heart’s emotions made as tangible as a brick. Describing this allows true, raw emotions to escape the heart and affect the hearts of others.

Strong barriers hold my flame back. My mind, the creator but also the detainer, splashes cold water on  my fire-ready wick. Life carries expectations that were written to mold a better society, but in reality prevents new ideas, artistic revolutions, and cultural reforms. It is scary to consider breaking these expectations only to pursue an artistic endeavor. However, since my art is the source of my flame the walls must be shattered. I am done with being held back. I am boiling over, restless with passion, and itching with anticipation to experience the world.

I am going to play my music loud and proud, and hopefully, others will dance along.

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the beach

Ah summer, the days get longer and the nights get shorter.

Parks fill with sports and parents there as the supporter.

Flowers begin to bloom,

and sunlight fills your room.

Then the unbearable heat comes,

and we all complain to our moms.

The sun sparkles over the water at the beach.

“Wait an hour after you eat!” they teach.

Summer will end,

and school we all must attend.

But in our hearts we will hold

those summer nights worth gold.

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Make a Wish

Make a Wish

Dandelions originated in Europe and Asia, but were brought to America for food for honeybees. The flower is a good source food for animals, but also was used for human consumption as well. The origin of the name ‘dandelion’ is most commonly associated with the french name ‘dent-de-lion’ which means ‘lion’s tooth’ referring to the shape of the petals.

To read more go to: http://www.woodrow.org/teachers/bi/2000/ethnobotany/dandelion.html

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A Different Perspective

Life. That is all we can truly say we have while on this giant rock floating through the vast universe. Everything in our culture centers around the fact that we only have one shot at this thing called life. Of course it seems to be an obvious fact, but when you think on it, it’s quite an eye-opener. Simple phrases like, “Don’t waste time,” “Love of your life,” or “Don’t get hurt,” emphasize the severity of having only a certain amount of time in this one life in the one body we are given.

Time ticks away moments in life, counting down to our impending death. However, we have evolved to understand this gloomy fact, and therefore have accepted the challenge to live through every second, making each moment a memory. Parents scold children not to waste their  precious time, and at least in my case, not to be bored. We pass down this advice from generation to generation: to use your time wisely.

One body: that’s all we are given to live. A structure that enables life. While yes it can heal, surgeries can be done, but only to a certain extent. Damage your body, and your quality of life decreases. Annoying safety precautions ensure that this one life does not get cut short. All we want is to remember yesterday, live today, and see tomorrow.

So now my advice to you is live your life to the fullest. Tell the people you care about how much you love them because you never know when you will get another chance. Life is quite a ride, so hold tight.

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Hi! I wonder if anyone is listening…

Well, Dear Readers, or Reader, or more realistically; the cyberspace filled with pictures of cats,

I hope everyone is having a good day, or if you aren’t start having one. I figured I needed some form of a greeting before diving into the ‘blogosphere’, but it very hard to greet the internet. I tried, and trust me Chuck Norris won’t answer. I guess I will tell you a little bit about myself. I am one of those hated teenagers. I play soccer, involved in drama, and a friend to all things.  I am going to stop with this now, so i can write about something actually interesting for you to read.

Bye now!


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