| These lyrics!!! |
[Sep. 30th, 2007|12:11 pm] |
STING
"Fortress Around Your Heart"
Under the ruins of a walled city
Crumbling towers and beams of yellow light
No flags of truce, no cries of pity
The siege guns had been pounding all through the night
It took a day to build the city
We walked through its streets in the afternoon
As I returned across the field's I'd known
I recognized the walls that I once made
I had to stop in my tracks for fear
Of walking on the mines I'd laid
And if I built this fortress around your heart
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire
Then let me build a bridge
For I cannot fill the chasm
And let me set the battlements on fire
Then I went off to fight some battle
That I'd invented inside my head
Away so long for years and years
You probably thought or even wished that I was dead
While the armies are all sleeping
Beneath the tattered flag we'd made
I had to stop in my track for fear
Of walking on the mines I'd laid
And if I built this fortress around your heart
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire
Then let me build a bridge
For I cannot fill the chasm
And let me set the battlements on fire
This prison has now become your home
A sentence you seem prepared to pay
It took a day to build the city
We walked through its streets in the afternoon
As I returned across the fields where I'd once played
I had to stop in my tracks for fear
Of walking on the mines I'd laid
And if I built this fortress around your heart
Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire
Then let me build a bridge
For I cannot fill the chasm
And let me set the battlements on fire |
|
|
| I'm posting this in moderate secrecy |
[Aug. 26th, 2007|10:47 pm] |
His response:
Sorry, Adam. I find your writing very difficult to read. There little logical structure or coherent flow to your ideas. I'm sure you are a nice person, and I don't mean to be a jerk. But the meandering quality of your writing makes for a very tough conversation. I prefer focused dialogue.
I hope you can understand! Best of luck in all your endeavours.
Regards,
Mavaddat
My response:
Mavaddat,
Sorry for a late response.
If you're still interested in further debate I'll summarize my key points:
If I understand correctly, your claim is that the Qur'an is the sole source of violence in the Middle East. I'm asking you to provide very convincing evidence.
Namely, what distinguishes groups such as Al-Qaeda and Taliban from others like the Tamil Tigers, IRA, and Zapatista? My claim is that all of these groups sprung up from similar political/economic conditions. This, to me, is evidence that militant extremism is a product of those conditions, not necessarily Islam.
In the future, please ask questions to clarify misunderstandings instead of insulting my arguments. Or if you're not interested in debate, just tell me so. I was wrong, though, to present my full argument at first hand. Apologies.
All good things,
Adam
|
|
|
| A whop diddley whop whop whopper |
[Aug. 22nd, 2007|10:38 pm] |
I was in a heated argument with another person about Islam. Always gets to be the case. I invited him to email me personally and he did! The conversation seemed to go well, but we'll see what his reply is. Here's the originial message, then the reply.
|
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jun. 24th, 2007|08:04 pm] |
I see myself by a large fire with
I see myself backpacking with
I see myself in a house with
I see myself on the road
I see myself now
I see myself alone. |
|
|
| revision |
[Apr. 24th, 2007|11:19 am] |
Please I need no introduction,
Once you get to know me I am just an apparition,
Now here on my mind is a place where,
footsteps have sunk deep down to my heart where,
fleets of smashed ships lie there,
that tried to get through the cliffs there,
my eyes flash like a lighthouse against the cliff side,
my arms lure like the shore line,
I can see how the constellations form each night,
but I can never guess it just right just right
I get dizzy when I go to a place I've never been
Because someone else in me is returning again,
And here I lay my head to sleep,
But not to claim this land to keep,
Please I need no salutations
Once you say "hello" I belong to imagination,
How can I pronounce who I am when,
I'm a collage of all the names that amount when,
I float through life and see them,
And take a little piece of them,
I perched myself atop the rocks that line the shores,
And built this house from broken boats and oars
Stargazer gone daydreaming in the night,
Again I forget to turn on this light,
please I need no eulogy
what's the point in trying to make me more than I be?
Now here on my grave's an epitaph where
chisels have carved a name to honor where
my body fell and became dirt there
pieces to take for all who walk there |
|
|
| In this past half year alone... |
[Apr. 20th, 2007|11:57 am] |
I have wasted over $2500 due to stupidity alone.
I am not frustrated because I have lost a material possession, I am frustrated at my inability to maintain control of myself.
As Rumi says, "Pain is a midwife". So, I hope that in the future, I will be less stupid. I'm giving birth to intelligence and self control. The money loss is just afterbirth, squishy and disgusting. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 12th, 2007|04:54 pm] |
I was told once that working for money was like cutting off fingers. You can only give away so much before there's nothing left. Of course, the person who told me that was a dirty hippie. But aside from that, it's baffling to consider how much wasted time we piss away in our lives.
Right now, I'm wondering about what I'm doing. What are my aims? What is it that I've laid my sights on, that I'm working towards? I've spared myself the hassle of even thinking about "why". Trying to think about "what" is enough to rock my head off my shoulders.
It frustrates me when I want to work toward something, but there is unyielding resistence. I would scratch my nails down to stubs trying to claw through a cement wall, for my stupidity. I am the dog with a leash wrapped around a pole. I am the bird who is attacking its reflection in a pane of glass. When a person is buried alive, their breath quickens, their body tenses up, their oxygen demand skyrockets. There are so many situations where nature demands our aplomb, confidence, and calmness: in these situations our mind darts to fight or flight. We grow restless and mad over the indelible. But what for?
I wonder about these things like age. I wonder how sitting in front of computers everyday changes the chemistry of my body. I wonder how toxins in this body will affect me in older age (or how they affect me now). I wonder if age will slap me and break my back with the overt clairon of the most wonderful life maxim:
LOVE
and
HAPPINESS |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 2nd, 2007|02:59 pm] |
|
there is something with so many thorns that I could never hope to grasp it. It's buried inside me... every minute, churning, burrowing and prodding. Blood flows across its eyes. gnashing teeth. in the midst of it, i hold onto hope. because i know it, like me, wants freedom. the pain of necessary separation. wisdom teeth, cancers, birth. it's all part of life and I too gnash my teeth, burrowing every minute through the thick of it. |
|
|
| TOO poetic |
[Mar. 25th, 2007|06:04 pm] |
Between my fingers
I hold a fine wine
the moon's menarche
in an hour glass
I sip another hour past |
|
|
| No cosmic lover |
[Mar. 21st, 2007|03:24 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  relieved | ] |
What is it that makes two people eternally glue themselves together? Is it possible?
Nothing is absolute.
It is impossible for two people to become one.
But is there a measure of difference?
Or are we all essentially different?
(Irrepairably separated... eternally lonely)
Is that why we can have a profound feeling of love toward a total stranger?
Or surround ourselves with people we despise?
Is that why true love is rejected on the basis of age?
Perhaps a basis of experience... hm.
"
Please I need no introduction
Once you get to know me, I am just an apparition
Now here on my mind is place where
footsteps have sunk deep down to my heart where
fleets of smashed ships lie there
that tried to get through the cliffs there
"
Strange that I'm totally unaware of my present life.
My past is a warm room full of people.
And I recall exactly each person's dynamic flux with myself.
For some, it is easy. I am comfortable around them.
For others, there is difficulty. There is chaff, sinew, and rheum.
I think the soul tells me which are those I am supposed to be associated with.
I do not know how to listen to it very well.
I am learning.
A refinement of the popular image of the perfect lover:
<ul>
<li>It is not simply being beautiful that makes one so. It is the fact that 1.) They consider themselves to be so. 2.) They respect their self, the body included, and keep it clean as a temple.
<li>Opposites do not attract. We seek lovers as a vicarious fulfillment of the things we feel we cannot do. It is not sufficient to say that we like creative types because we are not creative. We like creative types because we share the satisfaction they have for completing a creative piece.
<li>Love is not an emotion. Love, rather, is a virtue which is observed via actions. The actions we take and those we endure create emotions. Emotions, then reinforce or denigrate our virtues. We act with love toward one another if we embody this virtue. In this sense, love is like truthfulness, love is like generosity. Love is not an emotion because emotions have no requirements; there is nothing encumbent upon the emoter besides that. Love guides our actions.
</ul>
Personal compatibility:
+camping
+laughing
+no manners
+arting
+musicking
+merrimaking
-sick often
+carefree
-sentimentality
+food
+adventure
-restricts self
-doubt
-picky eater
-mumble
+pride
-zealous
+pissy
+communication
"
Tell me
warrior
who you gonna kill
when we're dead?
Tell me
sailor man
where you gonna sail
when the 7 seas have dried
I kick and scratch my eyes
and I pray for rain
And just then, the moon from its shroud of clouds, tells me to carry on.
" |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 20th, 2007|11:33 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | calm | ] |
the things I fear
waking up in unfamiliar places
the feelings of being left alone
or being left alone
insects
feeling insufficient
losing an opportunity
hate
guns
knives
drunk people
drunk driving people
being attacked
parasitic worms
pandemics
nuclear war
war
nuclear energy
biomedical engineering
cloning
resussitation
genocide
greed
talking about ghosts
embalming
preservatives
modified food products
cancer
diabetes
losing my hearing
losing my fingers
large corporate government fucks
unemployment at 30.
Life at 30
Life at 30 with no trees
Life at 30 with worse air pollution
Life at 30 with kids
My kid with asthma because there is so much air pollution and no trees
Life at 30 with scary different music that I don't enjoy
My kid listening to music that I don't enjoy
Not enjoying music
(more succintly) the possibility of not enjoying music
Massive economic downfall
Massive economic downfall due to reliance on nonrenewable, unsustainable energy
Massive economic downfall due to wars induced by private interests
Massive economic downfall due to fraudulant social systems
Emigration
Not having a secure, safe home to raise a kid
Life at 50 with no kids
Life at 50 with no trees
Life at 50 being unable to camp
Life at 50 being unable to play music (that I enjoy)
Life at 50 being unable to swim
Never visiting Iran
Never seeing my Iranian family
Not visiting Iran before my grandma passes away
War between America and Iran
Nuclear war between America and Iran
Radioactive sickness
Cancer due to radioactive sickness
Infertility
Life at 50 with no kids due to infertility from cancer caused by radioactive sickness
Death of a loved one
Eating disgusting things and being unaware of it
Eating a loved one and being unaware of it
Life at 70 without clean air
Life at 70 without clean water
Life at 70 with no trees
Life at 70 with no peace
Electronic worlds
Second Life
World of Warcraft
Myspace
Livejournal
cell phones
Gmail
bits vs. Atoms
social networks of people, completely removed from each other
the Matrix
complexity |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 12th, 2006|08:48 pm] |
Every mystic will say just
the same:
In our world, we learn
to see magic and promptly disregard
But a listless world can be awakened
to a discover the sound of a symphony
at the crashing of a raindrop
All lovers rouse themselves at the sound of such
drink wine, kiss, embrace
dear lover,
for you, I am always celebrating |
|
|
| On the essence of man and woman. |
[Feb. 10th, 2006|01:04 pm] |
|
Maternal material is impartial to the martial art of marriage and the ideal repeal congeals the deal as male and female wail and bray to stay, procreating, or go away. So you see the paradox has lost all its conniption and anal retention for those that deny their intuition and suspicions. For father, the ephemeral figure, frolicks to a forest and feasts on fauna, dropping in his feces a seed that will one day spring forth from the slovenly thickets and troves of hyacinths and rush. Whereas rush merely flourish in the saline streams. And mama the flora with flowers in hair will stand passively there as raging stampedes of animals come thrashing through those thickets and tear her seedlings right up from the roots. Such tragedy is apparent to me, the impartial observer with diligent eyes, perched on the vantage of a horizon perihelion fixed at the apex of Earth's acutemost fold. Worlds have unfolded to me as my feet nimbly escape from the cave. But the hindsight contrast of my former oppilated dwelling dim, demur and almost opaque, has nigh the capacity to receive such sad news. Now having sacraficed the essence of my animal being to attain understanding there has been achieved a threshhold of understanding, a contrast to the principles of progression. On the infinite boundries one will find only sadness and lack of understanding for the part of them that continued with such momentum that it fell off into a dark and imperceivable sepulcher. |
|
|
| Gal dang |
[Jan. 14th, 2006|06:51 pm] |
Among the many catastrophes exploding in the sky right now... I finally figured out the software issue with my computer. Evidently Firefox sucks at downloading executables, it just lobs off the .exe part and makes it a mystery file. Well, no more. Back to I.E., I'm trying to download it. Now, the internet is barely working and constantly flickering on and off.
Triste como las estrellas. Feo como los arbores. Aburrido como las montanas.
Case in point: I could SOO use a blunt to chill out. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 2nd, 2006|12:19 pm] |
People are so fucking boring. And they are so fucking sad all the time. I don't get it. Am I just becoming one of them? Slipping into the monotone foam that froths forth from the bacterial culture of Earth? Or am I evolving to crawl out of the slippery grasps of this beaker glass? Occassionally, I stop and realize that I have absolutely NO reason to be alive. None. And the thought so overwhelms me that I just can't fool myself to thinking there's much purpose to what I'm doing. I have more grey hair on the side of my head. My new year's resolution was FOCUS. And I've tried so HARD to focus on things that really matter. But hell, how can that happen? Each problem presents an infinte subset of problems so how does one sizably choose which ones to delve into entirely and which ones to halfassedly solve and which to ignore entirely? I've sat here for hours looking up information on multitudes on things. Innumerate:
Fafsa
-->Legal info on my mom and dad's separation
-->Oregon bar definition of separation
-->Financial aid definition (no solution).
-->OSAC grants/scholarships
-->Calling PSU (closed)
Paying for shit that's already really late (i.e. PCC)
--> Calling PCC (closed)
--> Going online (hopeless)
Looking for bikes
--> Called dad (asleep at 11:30)
--> Checked out craigslist
No matter how much I beat my head against a brick wall I'll never seem to complete things that need to be completed. And thus: regress. Back to the hopeless foam. Strife is the only reason I'm alive, ironically. (Strife being a derivative of STRIVE). Then I fall apart and can't do anything about it. And I just sort of have nothing. I don't have a job now which makes me feel all the more shitty. (cept maybe tutoring and twiddling thumbs under the president's totally retarded idea of "No Child Left Behind")
Ugg... and of course, multitudes of other things are now attacking me and I'm going to have to go off and take care of them. Well, ta! |
|
|
| Places in NE. |
[Dec. 2nd, 2005|11:32 am] |
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114950631.html
Kinda spendy, kinda far. Totally remodeled. 3bdr
WHOA!
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/115063965.html
1800sqft 3bdr, room for at least 1 more.
Minutes from PSU. English cottage.
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/115117903.html
Kinda far, no garage, 1411 sqft so 3 bdr and maybe room for 1 more.
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114838760.html
4bdr, 1800 sqft so room for maybe 1 more.
Superduper close to PSU.
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114807598.html
3bdr, 1 bath. shady... no info about size, color, or anything. But close to downtown!
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114661889.html
NE ALBERTA!!! Artsy crazy fun area. 4 bdr 1200 rent.
Also in alberta,
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114582034.html
And
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114578668.html
Both of which are 3 bdr and 1195 rent which is kind of steep. But, Alberta is pretty and fun.
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114626526.html
Don't totally understand it. A good deal: 990, 3bdr. Think it might be a mobile home? Great furnishings. Someone might have died there.
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114406405.html
Concordia home: 30 minute bus ride to PSU. Sweet deal!!! 4 bdr, 1200 rent. Check it out.
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/114574103.html
HEYUGE! 4 bdr and room for at least one more. However, no info on addy. Just "Wishire Park"
http://portland.craigslist.org/apa/113392495.html
Some guy is personally renting out his house here. Worth checking out, I think. His number is5034221512 CHEAP CHEAP! Under $300 rent if folks get in on it.
Still to check out:
SW areas, SE areas. |
|
|
| Meow. |
[Nov. 3rd, 2005|11:51 pm] |
What is it that keeps the big ticker ticking and why do we barely hear it?
Among the crooks and firecrackers in the city sneering,
So now this oblivious form weaves between our toes,
Gasses out our eyes 'til we realize we really are alone,
Every little piece of info becomes a highly unstable explosive,
The one you called a best friend soon is a weapon,
and the heart is holding her breath.
Who are these people?
Clenching chests,
heaving sorrow,
bulging from their eyelids,
Why do they abate their anger on a stanger?
Or a lover?
Why are these people so lost?
And so sad?
Wandering around, scuffling shoes, squat on haunches waiting for the time,
to make raindrops on a waxy green leaftip.
Who are these people?
Huddled under the rainfall, the concrete flood of fate,
out against the blue amidst this upright destruction,
Clenching their chests,
shivering helplessly.
In the fog traversing sidewalk steps,
by an open burning barrel,
that really is just like the world,
it's round,
and everyone is crowded there.
And they can hear the fire snapping,
Cracking, spitting out embers,
but they'll never know why.
Who are these people?
People so afraid of being lost,
so afraid of being alone,
they live in the fantasy,
they make themselves naked and known to no one,
they hurt everyone who could possibly love them,
then crowd into the darkness,
clenching their chests,
and wait 'til the convenient time to rely on someone's pity,
to be suckered,
and abused.
WHO. ARE. THESE. PEOPLE? |
|
|
| Viens Habibi |
[Oct. 21st, 2005|03:52 pm] |
This fucking house's haunted. I just had a deja vu so thick I was almost going to throw up.
It's weird. I don't know if stuff with Steph was a mistake. I love her, and I'm ready to let go of that shit. It was a good experience though, I learned a lot. However, it's odd to think that now I have 2 friends that took their life and 2 that tried and failed. I was going to play a song that I wrote about that, but I revamped and changed my mind about playing guitar altogether. Which brings me to the point that I should probably be playing banjo. A jam does a body good. Speaking of, Steph mentioned it and I think I want to try LSD. Maybe not in the immediate future. But just because. |
|
|
| Earlier |
[Oct. 20th, 2005|10:30 pm] |
I said, "Sexy body. This applies to me." I wasn't saying I have a sexy body. However, I am coming to like my body more and more. I'm sure there's a woman out there who likes the hairyness.
Oh yeah, and I said "Romance a lover while listening to Claude DeBussy's 'La Mer'"
What I meant was fuck. But that means La Mer would be just as good as, say, Red Hot Chili Peppers, "I Like Dirt". Sit down get down in the sun, live to love and give good tongue. What poetry.
Got to make my bread for tomorro |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
anaoulache's journal