Thursday's Thoughts - Theme: Thankful/Grateful

     A lot of bloggers have weekly post trends varying from answering a survey, talking about their favorite song, sharing a recipe, etc. I haven't seen someone post quotes weekly, so maybe I'll be the first.

     I love quotes because they're honest about their author. They don't try to blindside me like religious literature does. Being an Atheist, I don't have a specific book that feeds me guidelines on how to be a good person. I don't believe people need instruction on how to act, because it's instinctual to know right from wrong about the basics of human interaction like murder, rape, etc. However, it's nice to have a little enlightenment every once in a while, and sometimes even inspiration.

     All quotes are written by someone—even quotes "authored" by ficticious characters—that was once living, breathing, experiencing, and speculating the things I am today. That's something I can believe in. Humanity.

This Week's Theme: Thankful/Grateful

"Be thankful for problems. If they were less difficult, someone with less ability might have your job." - James A. Lovell

"Choosing to be positive and having a grateful attitude is going to determine how you're going to live your life." - Joel Osteen

“When you are grateful fear disappears and abundance appears.” - Anthony Robbins

How would you feel..

How would you feel if you knew you couldn't fail?

I don't really have much more to say than that,
so here's some people that do.

"If you want to achieve things in life, you've just got to do them, and if you're talented and smart, you'll succeed." - Juliana Hatfield

"Action is the foundational key to all success." - Pablo Picasso

"Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom." - George S. Patton

"Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire." - Arnold H. Glasow
 

Clarity; magical thinking

 "I need clarity and truth to be
And peace to make me whole
I want freedom to come and hate to be done
And love to guide my soul"

- Clarity by Shawn Mcdonald

The latest leg of my journey towards turning eighteen has become an increasingly exhausting road that I am consistently defending to elude redundant criticism, alongside facing personal perplexity. I discern that I am powerless over criticism unless I do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing, but I haven't polished the behavioral practices that Epictetus taught me in The Art of Living. That being confessed, some people feeling they fathom what I'm going through, even though they haven't known me for years, is still something I permit affect me. I do not believe anyone can completely understand regardless of what level of tragedy they've been through. They're not going through this right now, in this time period, as me. No one will ever hold the dexterity to comprehend everything revolving around me except me.

What happens next is what I empower to happen next. I am trying with all my fortitude to push through this wearisome time in my life, but it is really kicking me. Without end, I could invent reasons as to why maybe that is. I don't believe in any God, I haven't been to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting in months or called my sponsor in equal time, in general I don't carry any sort of fellowship, I don't open up to others, I never speak of my problems in honesty including personal inquisitions, or it could be that I'm just trying.

I know my biggest obstacle is that I'm just trying to make situations bearable. I cognize with needing to unaffectedly make them livable. Trying is wishing, and wishing rarely gets you a result that's not somewhat deluded. Being conditioned since birth that it is acceptable to be negatively emotional has destroyed me, and now I must be solely responsible for my rebirth— which will not involve a near-drowning experience.

Before I even had two digits to my age, I have been acquainted with the reality that everyone has the adequacy to vanish. Including but not excluding my family, lovers, friends, acquaintances, and even perfect strangers. My birth mother repeatedly walked out on my family—which even I'm being pushed out of now, by a woman just as sociopathic—without ever having a conscious glance back. It's a shame that when a parent walks out on a child, there is an enormous chance that said child will never be able to trust completely again. I hate to be part of a human behavior statistic, but I've not transformed into an idea just yet. I remain affected by the past.

Good intentions have never been enough to satisfy me. Hitler had good intentions within his beliefs, but is the Holocaust at disregard? Not in the slightest of passionate minds. My family and friends can have all the good intentions in the world for me, for my future, for our relationship, etc., but actions speak much louder than words or intentions. If you leave me, you have chosen to leave. Nothing I have said or done has forced you to abandon me. I will not wait for you and I will never come after you more than a handful of times unless I really love you. I do not have time to wallow around and wait for your return or apology, nor to repeatedly pursue you. While I may hear you out, you're not forgiven unless I verbally express that I forgive you in plain English. Typically I won't even allow those I have lost all compassion for even offer me an explanation for their negative actions towards me, usually people only apologize for negative actions so they can forgive themselves. I'm not a fan of repentance, confessing due to guilt or shame.

Of my entire life, today is the first day I have gone a full twenty-four hour day without my father attempting to contact me. Excluding the time he spent serving in the military, we have never been physically apart longer than a week until this year. He has made his decisions, and now I have come to the realization that I must make my own. Becoming an adult is more difficult and abrupt than I ever imagined, and I overly dramatized it's difficulty all my life. Never did I know my last year as a minor would take a turn onto this road. My dad was my protector for years, and now it's come to him ignoring my phone calls.

His actions have the greatest potential to break my heart (equal with my mother's), but I will not let it crush me. I just hope he realizes he isn't excluded from the people I will expel from my life if he decides to really walk away. This isn't said as a threat, it's what I must do with my life for humanity. I will always do the greater good for the greatest number, even if that means sacrificing everything I have.

Now we'll play my game.

"When you figure out those things...you let me know."

We'll play your way.


If you want to unload your responsibilities on me, they will be dealt with in how I deem appropriate. I am vicious, I can and will go all the way. Before I send anyone crying let me get one thing clear-- I don't hurt people, people let what I do and say hurt them. It sounds like a malicious excuse, but we're all guilty of self-inflicting the pain we feel. At times, even I have let what people have said and done hurt me. However, I'm mainly just annoyed by people. They can take my revenge however their strength allows. I have to make a lot of determining choices right now. Do I push through, or do I barrel through? I can become a bulldozer, but how many insects will I hurt along the way to my target of demolishment?


My family always told me I didn't deserve to be treated like I was growing up, but now I'm not sure what has changed since they told me that lie. Do they believe I deserve to be treated like shit now? What changed between being an innocent child, and being a victimized teenager? Does that mean I needed to become the target of resentment, because that's exactly what's happening. I know I don't deserve to be treated this way, or to have this life. I have done nothing.


Let me sarcastically apologize dear family, for being molested by five different people on numerous occasions throughout my life, for being addicted to self mutilation since I was twelve years old, for two of you walking out on me, for not being aborted. I know how much that affected YOU, you selfish excuses for caring human beings. If you have any wonder in your mind that maybe you're someone I'm talking to-- you are. If I ever feel my purpose has dissipated, it will be one of the last day of my life. Perhaps it's a good thing I learned how self mutilation can destroy a person, because I can never lose sight of what matters. It will be my very end.

"Hope I don't look weak, cause when the wolf cry you still see that wolf teeth motha fucka." - Lil Wayne

An unwelcomed ex floats back into my life.. Pt. 3 - Wiitarded

     A few days ago I wrote about finding the video game Twilight Princess, and how I was looking forward to playing it in spite of my ex-boyfriend. Well, I tried that after crawling through the front door at 3 AM. That was my first mistake, my second, third, infinite, is that I was deliriously exhausted, starving to the point my stomach was in knots, eating sour gummy worms without a drink, in tight jeans not meant for lounging, and Wii-tarded. I put the game into the Wii, and it didn't magically play like I expect from technology. I cursed Nintendo and Googled the problem on my Blackberry while putting in Animal Crossing to see if it was just Twilight Princess that was messed up, but Animal Crossing didn't work either. Suddenly a light bulb illuminated over my head, "Maybe it's upside down Alexis."

     Of course it was. Once I figured that out, I excitedly put fresh batteries in the back of a Wiimote. Crushing my dreams, when I selected the game, the Wiimote's lights just blinked a few times and shut off. Persistent, I put new batteries in the other Wiimote, but the same thing happened. Back on Google, I discovered that you need to either get a Wii mock-Gamecube controller, or plug in your old Gamecube controller.

     For ten minutes I searched all over that tiny white box, pressing in every little door so they'd pop out and reveal their hidden confusion. While I tried figuring out the purpose of all the little sockets, I realized that I obviously had the misconception that Wii's were simple. Apparently I was very wrong. Anyway, by the time I found the Gamecube controller sockets I was too tired to be bothered, plus I didn't want to find out how inconveniently short Nintendo had made the Gamecube controller cords.

     It's been days since then, and playing Twilight Princess has been lingering in the back of my mind as a fun idea. I've bused around the Gamecube more times than necessary, especially considering I haven't even plugged it in yet. I might bring it to Gainesville tomorrow so I have something to do in the hotel, but I probably won't play it there either. Regardless, I like this trend. The Gamecube is similar to a pet now, I almost want to give it a name to make people laugh at my ridiculousness. (Any suggestions?)

P.S. Apparently I'm not just Wiitarded, I'm also 360-tarded. (That one doesn't even make sense and it sounds condescending, but oh well.) Last night my friend Dave--my best friend actually, you should check out his blog--let me borrow his copy of Doppelherz, so I tried playing it in the Xbox 360. Halfway through the film, I got the red ring of death. After finding that link, I realized my theory about what was wrong last night is completely incorrect, and it just overheated. Weird!

My Third Award: Blog Lovin Award!

This is old, but I just realized I never gave this award its own entry. Thank you so much for this award Pixie, haven't seen you around in a while though, where did you go? Hope to see updates from you soon!

This award didn't come with any rules, but I'm going to nominate some blogs I love just for the heck of it.

Nominations:

1. Sarah
http://philosophyofafreshman.blogspot.com/
2. Mark
http://40yearoldatheist.com/
3. Calvin/Jake
http://mormonbachelorpad.blogspot.com/

Tittle Hearts for Bigger Hearts

      I was just watching The Cosby Show and Theo was talking to his dad Dr. Huxtable about a note a girl passed him in class. Theo liked the girl, so he convinced himself that the tittle she dotted her "I" with was a heart. Dr. Huxtable pointed out that it was only a heart if you looked at it long enough. It fits perfectly in the theory that if you want to see something, you will.

     Dr. Huxtable's statement was meant to point out that the tittle was actually just a circle. With humor-filled thoughts I wondered, who draws circles for tittles? I considered the few that have large, loopy handwriting must be the main offenders of this crime. The extra time it would take to draw circles for tittles—as carelessly as they might be scribbled— it just seems like pre-meditated time wasted that could be spent doing something else.

     Personally, I think it's cute when people draw hearts instead of circles or the common dot for tittles. Within movies and conversation it's often ridiculed because people are conditioned to believe that it's immature. What makes it immature? Is expressing love immature? It sounds like another instilled idea of society. The only connection I see is that younger girls draw more tittle hearts than adult women, but the reason why has been aforesaid. I'll clearly express it again, society is convinced to believe that they should feel "bad" for drawing hearts.

     I've done a variety of things with the way I write my name over the course of my literate life. One I significantly remember is that around my thirteenth birthday, I was obsessed with circling the "A" in my name to make it the symbol of anarchy. It's jocular now, my current opinion on anarchy is that it is completely absurd, a prominent sign of weakness, an excuse to selfishly do whatever you wish, and a cop-out for being a decent basic law following human being. I was only twelve-thirteen though, I didn't even possess a child's strength grasp on the concept of anarchy, so I let myself get away with that act of ignorance. At least it gives my parents a cute story to share with their grandkids.

     As if this weren't an obvious lead-up, I have decided I am going to strive to draw hearts for the tittle in my name. If I remember the concept for the rare times I write upon physical paper, I'll draw hearts in the place of every tittle. I do not see immaturity in showing, expressing, and spreading love in the simplest of ways.

COSA18.com domain & The Atheist Blogroll

First of all, I want to announce that Confessions of Someone Almost 18

now has it's own domain, which is www.COSA18.com! Thank you so much dad!

(I need to make some links now..)

The initiative for this purcahse lies in that I am trying to broaden my audience. If you want to help me out, share my name, my link, my posts, etc. I'll have some links soon too. I don't mean to toot my own horn (and that's not why I'm saying this), but I think I have a lot of enlightening things to say, and I think a majority of the topics I speculate over can help others out too. I do this blog for the readers, not for me!

I've also joined The Atheist Blogroll, and hope to meet some people with similar interests and beliefs—or lack of, haha—to my own. Check it out! If you want to join, check out Mojoey's Deep Thoughts.

An unwelcomed ex floats back into my life.. Pt. 2

I haven't had many light-hearted posts lately because I haven't been "blogging" lately. I like to consider what I've posted to COSA18 recently to be "essays". Not essays in the sense of dreaded college homework, but essays in the sense that philosophers, professors, and scientists refer to long explanations or opinions on a predetermined topic. I hold neither of those three professions—although I suppose "philosopher" is self-proclaimed—but I still consider my work to be worthy of that titling. In the very least, I dream it will be one day.

Tonight I began mapping out a long entry, but it was a personal rant rather than something beneficial to you besides the possibility of my drama being entertaining in its obscurity. Likely, it would have caused problems were it posted tonight like planned. Normally I could care less, because if something I write has to do with someone else, it has to do with me too. (I don't just talk shit about people for amusement and entertainment.) However, when it comes to my family I muster up sensitivity. The creation of COSA18 helped me realize that although all personal experiences will eventually be exploited, there is a time and a place for personal stories to be shared and sometimes that exploitation countdown clock isn't ticking towards "right now". So for now I will keep my mouth shut about things that could harm others.

A while back I wrote about an ex-boyfriend—we'll give him the fake name Jacob for confidentiality, others mentioned later on will have fake names as well—who floated back into my life unexpectedly and demanded I return a video game to him. Like I said before, a video game, really? He just turned nineteen and he may be a guy, but I believe there are way more important things to be doing with one's time, like school, friendships, or even my least favorite, relationships. I've played quite a few RPGs in my day, but the intensity someone would have to feel to create a new Myspace just to harass their ex-girlfriend they broke up with and cheated on to get a now $15 video game returned bewilders me.* Who does that!? Anyway, I told him to buzz off when I got the message, and haven't heard from him since besides a standard follow-up "you suck Alexis, I hate you" message before he deleted his hours old Myspace.

* I played the MMORPG Everquest 2 for a few years and quit as best in my class on my server. Even more impressive, my server was the largest of the game’s. Pretty cool fact about me, even though it was a complete waste of time.

A few days ago I was cleaning out my room at my dad's house and  I confronted the lousy reality that I needed to clean all my DVD/video game cases and get them all safely back to their original homes. (A task that is still unfinished, having seasons of Roseanne and The Cosby Show has become a huge nuisance on my life, especially when all the disks from a season are the same exact color.) I was popping open Gamecube cases absentmindedly when all of a sudden there Link was, staring me back in the face with his slanted anime eyes. The precious little green dress-wearing man that Jacob couldn't live to see another day without harassing me without.

You know, funny story about Twilight Princess. Unless my memory fails me—it isn’t—I purchased, or technically my dad purchased, that game when it first came out at around $50-60 for part of Jacob’s Valentine's Day present. Does anyone else find this a bit odd, or is it just me? What kind of jackass does it take to cheat on someone, and not just by making out with someone else which wouldn't have even been that big of a deal, but no, to sleep with some random fourteen year old freshman that has horrible conceptual tattoos and crusty facial piercings (bringing that up was immature but it's true), break up with their current girlfriend that is of appropriate age (not really relevant, but still, he was almost eighteen), and then come crawling around years later like the repulsive slimeball they are and ask for a Valentine's Day present to be returned? That would of course be my first serious boyfriend Jacob. Woe. Is. Me.

I don't believe in karma even though I find the quote "my karma ran over your dogma" ridiculously clever, but if it exists and I'm believing in the wrong thing, perhaps this is it— The whole reason Jacob and I ever dated is because I went after him so fiercely that I'm surprised I didn't grow a dorsal fin in my pursuit. Samantha, my ex-girlfriend of two years, and I had just broken up because of a lot of typical high school drama, but the final straw was when she told me she was going to keep dating me, but pursue Jacob in hopes of having a chance. Smartly, I ended our relationship, but as part of being a spiteful fourteen year old, to get back at her I went after Jacob in psuedo-infatuation. How he missed the signs of my insincerity are astounding—in one instance I cornered him after class and bluntly asked "So are we ever going to be together or am I just wasting time?", which is very untypical of girls that actually like the person they're querying—but somehow he did. It didn't take but a week or two, and I had him. Over a short amount time I grew to like him, and eventually love him.

I think my problem is that with Jacob and Samantha is that I got into relationships with them before I liked them. I grew to love them because it was easy, which wasn't fair to me or either of them. Since then I've broken free of that potentially harmful habit, and the reward was love that is incomparable. Nowadays I have zero compulsion to talk to Jacob or Samatha, but when it comes to my most recent ex-boyfriend Rodger, I would call him right now if I could.* Of course that could just be because my memories of Rodger are of greater lucidity than Jacob or Samantha, but I like to believe that it's because I willingly fell in love with Rodger—something I always reminded him of to assure him he was special—because it makes me feel human, soft, emotional, and all those other adjectives that men like to use to describe their tender woman with.

*Of course I could technically, I know he'd answer without a doubt. I've actually had to tell him multiple times to leave me alone. I meant "if I could" in the sense that it's not within my personal boundaries to allow that to happen, therefore it cannot.

It'd be pretty difficult to get the game back to him considering he deleted his Myspace and exists on no other social networking website. I have a phone number but I'm not sure if it's still the same, and I'm not going to go out of my way to find out so I can have an overall unpleasant experience by seeing his ratty face again. Besides, I bought it and even though it was a gift, that's too old school for this chick to abide by. I happily proclaimed in real excitement when I found it, "Someone's going to be having fun as Link tonight!"

"Thoughts on.." Part Two- Religion

 Thoughts on..

Abortion 11/05/09 | Death Penalty | Prostitution | Alcohol

Gay Marriages | Illegal Immigrants | Downloading Music

Smoking | Drunk Driving | Cloning | Racism

Religion 11/13/09 | Premarital Sex | Porn

Religion?

29 April 2008- Have faith in whatever you want, but regardless, its not going to send you anywhere, its not going to make you a better person, its not going to help you. IT MAKES YOU A FUCKING ASSHOLE if you try to push it onto other people. If you're that fucking helpless that you need to shove it down someone else's throat, please jump in front of a car for me.

13 November 2009- For a considerable amount of time I evaluated the differences between Atheism and Agnosticism, and for a time I couldn't even comprehend the now-obvious distinguishing characteristics. I never leaned towards one or the other besides reason of "cool factor", meaning whatever influential person I looked up to at the time advised I should deem truth, I deemed truth. I can finally say in an irony-rich statement that I have comfortably attained security within a religion—or lack of—that I believe in. I never considered that I might as well have been condemned to cross irony in believing in disbelief. I should have foreseen such a result, considering I was the subject. I always knew subconsciously, regardless of my hopeless denial, that it'd never be as easy as deciding which God to believe in when the inevitable reality was that I believed in none.

     I hate to compare this to an irrelevant topic, especially since it withholds the possibility of pissing said group off, but it makes a lot of sense to me and I find comparisons that in my case of religious self-discovery it's similar to being gay. I unconditionally believe that gay people are born gay because they can recognize they're gay—whether they know what gay means yet or not—at a prepubescent age because it's genetic and not a conscious choice. From every recollected childhood memory, the idea of God has been absent from results of my ability to reason—possibly because of a specific instance that I will elaborate on later—but the conclusive reality is that God doesn't exist. I accept the concept of God, rendering me Atheist as opposed to Agnostic, but I do not accept the probabilities of God as reason to believe in Him.

     Often, it is proposed that people either believe or disbelieve in God because of an event that's taken place that profoundly affected them either in that instance, or later on in life due to re-analyzation. Almost embarrassingly, this was true for me for years. When I was nine years old, my friend Elizabeth* passed away in the middle of the night from an unanticipated heart attack. Alone, her death left my religious ideas unaffected, although it did familiarize me with the bitter reality that death exists. I didn't know it then, but I sure practiced my current principle that "all events are impersonal, even death" [Epictetus]. Undeterred by my attempts, I couldn't shed a single tear the day I caught news of her death. I felt extremely disrespectful when I couldn't even make my eyes damp, while the class bully sitting to my left bawled his eyes bloodshot. I hid the fact that I couldn't cry by burying my face in my crossed arms because I was convinced that lacking dramatic emotion was something to be ashamed of. I only wish I had known then what I was accomplishing by letting that event harmlessly—outside of my dissipated guilt—pass me by.

*Name changed for confidentiality, although I couldn’t find a single article about her on Google. I concluded it is probably due to her family being very private, and this was in a time before the internet exploded in popularity.

     At the wake, my attitude remained aforesaid until I approached the casket. Before it stood her father—who to my understanding is or was some type of religious leader—who spoke to everyone before they bid final valedictions to Elizabeth’s mortal remains. Elizabeth’s father took my hand and looked deeply into my eyes before enlightening me on the "fact" that Elizabeth was in heaven now and that God was looking over her, and personally over me too. He informed me that God loved Elizabeth and me, but offered no explanation as to why her untimely death occurred because a factual explanation in relation to his God did not exist. It was then that tears drenched my cheeks because I knew that he was lying to my face**, but more barbarously, lying over the body of his dead child.

** Many people have undeserved respect for those that truly believe in something that's doing "no harm" (religion is common), but it is doing harm because any religious concept is just that, a concept, and I do not let those equal to me walk upon me with their beliefs. You do not need a book to differentiate right and wrong, believing so is ultimate human weakness. It’s a shame adults in positions of political power need religion to let them know that they shouldn’t kill their fellow man. Where does the separation of church and state exist there? The bottom line is, you can believe whatever you want, but unless I ask or express obvious interest, I could care less.

     As time and events carried on, I relived that moment multiple times, trying to produce a tangible belief on what happened that night that Elizabeth's father attempted to instill his values within me. I cursed him for lying to me because I know he lied to classmates my age that either already agreed with his ignorance, or do now because of his admittedly convincing speech. On the contrary, I thanked the idea of him for enlightening me on something he didn't intend— the closure I needed that God does not exist.

     Society labels it a pubescent conception to state, "If God existed, this wouldn't happen." In actuality, many adults still face the same question long after their hormones are in check, regardless of how vocal they are of their religious considerations. Impressionable society instructs teenagers to shut up in a manifold of practices whenever the idea that God might not exist because he wouldn't let horrible things happen is either declared or exhibited in the embodiment of a currently unanswerable investigation.

     Extraneous from Elizabeth's death, my theories have developed into category 6 Atheism. I suspect my close relatives and I both confirmed years ago that that's what I would unquestionably come to secure as personal truth.

     Despite my previous comparison of my religious realization to being born gay, do not confuse this with me having the idea that people are born of a specific belief, because that's not true at all. Like Dawkins clearly expressed in The God Delusion, "That is not a Muslim child, but a child of Muslim parents. That child is too young to know whether it is a Muslim or not. There is no such thing as a Muslim child. There is no such thing as a Christian child." My comparison lied in the similarity that I knew I lacked belief in God from a young age while co-existing with the impressionable beliefs of others.

     While I personally think it's a waste of time to speculate on things that can never be answered—or the probability of it being answered during my lifetime being extremely slim—I do find it essential to be exceptionally educated on topics without immediate conclusion like religion and extraterrestrial life. Composing factual answers doesn’t have to be my life’s work for me to be well educated in their core concepts. If something is to be under frequent speculation, it only makes logical and intelligent sense that I should examine it with more thoroughness than just knowing a definition to be a productive member of society.

     So now the difference is finally clear and I am cleansed of all instilled delusions. Claiming Agnosticism is foundationally claiming ignorance and denial in the idea of something very apparent throughout history [God]. Atheism is the more thought-through of the two disbeliefs in God because it acknowledges that God may certainly exist, but in belief He does not. I believe He— he does not.

As the Eye of Providence..

I believe my existence is solely to be of aid to others. I swore to sacrifice anything and everything both readily available to me and out of my reach. It's rare I experience an attitude of reluctance when coming across unanticipated realizations that there is something more to be offered away. I feel so positively about my believed purpose that I rarely hold resent. There is not a plausible remonstration as to whether or not I personally want to sacrifice my insignificant life for the benefit of mass populations. In the reality of the situation, it doesn't matter what my selfish raptures are. I whole-heartedly enjoy my path, and would likely strive to be on it had I not been born with bestowed direction.

Ten minutes ago I was lying in bed listening to acoustic Marilyn Manson at an attempt to calm my mind for sleep. The superiority of my conscious was directing me to not sleep yet, instead to create something beautiful. The disengaged part of my conscious argued that I had already created something beautiful today, and supported with that today was a quite productive today considering how unproductive it could have been. Still, my mind shredded itself and left me completely torn.

I was experiencing reluctancy to follow through with my duty. Daily, there is an underlying choice on whether or not I go the extra distance to achieve productivity worthy of supporting my declarations. Claiming I've taken the path of sainthood means utterly nothing without those underlying choices being selfless ones.
 
My alarm was set for 11AM from the previous morning, but I concluded that I needed to rise a little earlier. For the first time in my life—except for on the eve of a holiday where I would be given gifts—I was excited about waking up early the next morning. I had no extraordinary reason, unless you count that I had determined I would wake and create something beautiful, something more beautiful than what I constructed today. I needed as much time as possible, but then I found myself here— at 5:30 AM.

Back on the couch, back on my laptop that cannot be unplugged without dying.. Somehow that illustrated reality could be transformed into a self-descriptive metaphor, but oddly enough I have no desire to create metaphors right now. By using metaphors so frequently in my essays, I get to express humor in a way that few can comprehend my exact intent, and to me that's gladdening in a way that's actually not condescending at all. My point is that even in the act of writing, sometimes I must be effectively selfless. I'd rather be sleeping, but I'd much rather be helping you.

I envisioned myself lying in bed simply listening to my iPod while the prospect of doing something greater swirled in my head, but in my daydream I witnessed wings of no specific stereotypical alignment. No white feathers, no rubbery bat skin. My idea of a savior isn't something you'd be able to snap a photo of looming over the Vatican, and it's also not Raziel from the popular video game Soul Reaver. It's nothing typical because it's really nothing at all but an idea, a theory, a whatever you want to call it that makes you comfortable in believing it's true.

Humankind can be depicted by the Eye of Providence in it's later use, saviors are part of the same system as men [part of the pyramid], perched as a single division at the top to watch over the rest. What better proof that my theory is true than a glance at the back of a dollar bill, what humans of all religions worship [money]? Come up with explanations or lack thereof by religiously denying, but whether or not you avoid spending money on a certain day or live below your means, you have no escape from the reality that is your greed, but that's okay. I lack religion, therefore I shall never condemn you for your humanity.

Mouths

We touched with what we use to affect the world, two powerful being becoming one. One idea, one goal, it's all the same and singular. Remaining alone again, we shall touch the planet and every person unwilling to listen.

I want to love someone and I want someone to love me, I don't want to be left behind, I have no trust issues, but that's my biggest fear. Regardless of all the breaking up I've done in the past, ironically I am terrified of being left alone. The comfort of comfort isn't something I want to be taken away, especially when any relationship partaken in would be a selfish part of my time spent. I cannot risk wasting time on the aftermath of a separation, so I should really not bother.

Why can I not find a promise like the one you gave me, why can you not fulfill? Why was my heart "broken", when I didn't even give it away to begin with? I am less and less human every day, becoming closer and closer to my goal of turning into an untouchable idea. The only time I will be human again is when I die alone, because when you die, you're alone.

"Thoughts on.." Prologue & Part One- Abortion

I present to you a thought-provoking internet survey that thousands have copied and pasted all across the web for years. Although entirely irrelevant, and I add this in for humor purposes only; I imagine this survey has been responded to on more blogging websites as opposed to networking websites such as Myspace. Considering the level of intelligence I believe it requires to post slutty pictures as opposed to forming actual explanation of one's thought, though that is just my guess.

     My goal—as always—was to make this distinguishing and riveting to the reader, so I must inform you that I have answered all these questions before, but the twist is that I did so when I was only fifteen years old. Granted, there's a minute two year difference between the differing ages, but I hope it provides entertainment to have answers shown from both time periods. Unsurprisingly to me, majority of my opinions have remained the same, but for the ones that have, I am intrigued by.

     The survey covers fourteen very serious, commonly debated ethical issues of today's society, and I believe they deserve to be speculated upon solitarily due to their importance. Besides, I imagine people might feel furthermore encouraged to read my opinions on the topics if they're posted separately, as opposed to my original plan of responding to them all in a single entry. I know personally that I sometimes get a little put-off by a big wall of text, an entry of my own being a perfect example of what I mean. With all that said, I shall begin with the first topic, abortion.

Thoughts on..

Abortion 11/05/09 | Death Penalty | Prostitution | Alcohol

Gay Marriages | Illegal Immigrants | Downloading Music

Smoking | Drunk Driving | Cloning | Racism

Religion 11/13/09 | Premarital Sex | Porn

Abortion?

29 April 2008- A woman deserves the right to do what she wishes to with her body. Abortion should not be a form of birth control - that is selfish. Getting raped, that is a reason to have an abortion (but a choice). Or even just making a mistake at a young age. Regardless, its no ones choice but the woman's.

5 November 2009- My opinion remains the same in essence,—Don't use it as a form of birth control, abortion is justifiable with plausible reason. The only thing that's changed that was previously stated was that I do not believe it is solely the woman's choice on whether or not to follow through with an abortion.— but I do cogitate it to be relatively more hypothesized. At the age of fifteen, I hadn't been consequentially faced—thankfully—with the idea of personally having an abortion, so my perspective was only that of a spectator's, which is in reality worthless regarding this topic. It's factual that a woman cannot comprehend the idea of abortion without standing before the crossroads of choice on aborting or not aborting the cluster of cells swimming in her uterus.

     Coincidentally, just last night I happened to be speculating on the concept of abortion. I came dangerously close to convincing myself that I should start presuming my beliefs similar to those of parties pro-life. For a second in freelance conceptualizing, I selfishly declared that every creation should be provided an opportunity at life outside the womb, for they might possess the—personally—sought-after ability to add greatness and positivity to existing society. Morosely, the odds are slim. Those who have already—widely or narrowly, it doesn't matter—avoided being aborted find it so inconceivable to sacrifice their given lives—that could have not been given at all had their parent's made the opposite choice their final decision—to help others. In my opinion, unaborted individuals should be the one's most eager and inspired to be of service to fellow man, but it's also worth note that I have sworn to exploit my life for the benefit of others, making my vista basically paramount. I see it like this— a world void of abortion would increase the entire population. The numbers of those volitional to help others would inevitably go up as well, but they would have to cover a larger population, therefore rendering my theory pointless. Conclusory, we, the human race, cannot rely on the hope of one ultimate savior being born while worthless millions roam. We don't even know if that ultimate savior would ever be born.

     I do not yet want my ambiguous beliefs—there lies the reason why—to be criticized, so I shall vaguely reveal, only for comprehension purposes, that I strongly believe in the concept of a perfectly balanced pyramid system of all human beings, organized by personal purpose to the world, implemented or not. I lack belief in any variation of the definition of God. Personal religion is non-existent, I haven't yet figured out what I am to be considered, if anything at all. I find it heedless to waste valuable exuberance into the process of religious discovery, because the one thing I do know for sure is that regardless of whatever I choose the need to realize to believe in, I'll never know unquestionably if it's the truth. The only religious theorem as of now that I imagine to be personally everlasting, is the concept of saviors existing on Earth, for whatever reason or lack of.