The struggle between the two can be devastating.
Do you believe in fate?
Is it a belief where some abstract, celestial object that plotted out the cords of your life? And you're just the electricity flowing through it nonstop, until it pulls the plug and it's light's out?
Do you believe in choice?
Is it a belief where YOU have the option to plant out the seeds of your life? And when you grow you have the time to change the color of faded leaves?
Is fate a trap?
Is it the predator that lurks in the darkness and waits for its time to strike?
Is it a complex compound that defeats the paths you've made and reveals you as senseless elements?
Is choice freedom?
Is it the wind that blows the leaves on your tree to new ideas and destinations?
Do you have the Choice to believe in fate?
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Hardy and Jimmy: A Flash Fiction
Once upon a time, there lived two brother rocks. The eldest rock was Hardy. He was nice and big. With smooth textures, Hardy was the “good rock” of the family. He would always stay with the other rocks, helping them with channeling the rain water to the underground veins. His younger brother, Jimmy wasn’t like the other rocks. He was small and rough. He had sharp edges and no one wanted to sit next to him. But Jimmy didn’t care, he wanted to cause trouble. He wanted until the humans walked over the gravel and jump inside their shoe. His favorite spot to stay was near the toes. When he had bothered them long enough, they would tear off their shoes and toss him far.
One day, Jimmy and jumped into a sandal of a young girl. She was happily skipping to the playground. He was on his way to his favorite spot, but his timing was off. He landed in the middle of the sandal and she stepped on him.
“Ow!” she screamed. “I must have a rock in my sandal.” She knelt over and pulled off her sandal. Jimmy tried to move, but the girl saw him.
“No, please don’t throw me!” Jimmy cried, sarcastically.
“I’m not going to throw you.” the girl said, smiling devilishly. Jimmy felt concerned as she carried him to the playground. She walked over to the fountain and loamed over it.
“No! Don’t put me in there!” Jimmy cried. He heard stories of fellow rocks being thrown in here. Only to see who can make the biggest splash.
“This is payback.” the girl said, cradling Jimmy in her palm. Jimmy tried to roll off, but the girl kept him still. She brought her arm back and tossed Jimmy into the fountain. As Jimmy’s life flashed before his eyes, he noticed he had been a bad little rock. He realized why he was called “pebble”. Pebbles were the lowest of rocks.
Jimmy made a small splash and slowly sunk to the bottom. As he landed on the fountain surface, he can still see the girl looking over the fountain. He turned to see his fallen brothers. There were different shapes, sizes, and colors. He knew no one will come after him, no one came for these rocks. Jimmy thought about his brother Hardy. I wished he could have been like him. Big, well rounded and good. He just remained motionlessly, like a good rock should.
One day, Jimmy and jumped into a sandal of a young girl. She was happily skipping to the playground. He was on his way to his favorite spot, but his timing was off. He landed in the middle of the sandal and she stepped on him.
“Ow!” she screamed. “I must have a rock in my sandal.” She knelt over and pulled off her sandal. Jimmy tried to move, but the girl saw him.
“No, please don’t throw me!” Jimmy cried, sarcastically.
“I’m not going to throw you.” the girl said, smiling devilishly. Jimmy felt concerned as she carried him to the playground. She walked over to the fountain and loamed over it.
“No! Don’t put me in there!” Jimmy cried. He heard stories of fellow rocks being thrown in here. Only to see who can make the biggest splash.
“This is payback.” the girl said, cradling Jimmy in her palm. Jimmy tried to roll off, but the girl kept him still. She brought her arm back and tossed Jimmy into the fountain. As Jimmy’s life flashed before his eyes, he noticed he had been a bad little rock. He realized why he was called “pebble”. Pebbles were the lowest of rocks.
Jimmy made a small splash and slowly sunk to the bottom. As he landed on the fountain surface, he can still see the girl looking over the fountain. He turned to see his fallen brothers. There were different shapes, sizes, and colors. He knew no one will come after him, no one came for these rocks. Jimmy thought about his brother Hardy. I wished he could have been like him. Big, well rounded and good. He just remained motionlessly, like a good rock should.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
When Life hands you Lemons
When Life hands you lemons,
Don't take them sitting down...
Get up, stretch a little, and SHOVE IT IN LIFE'S FACE!!
'Cause, you have better things to do than to make lemonade!
Don't take them sitting down...
Get up, stretch a little, and SHOVE IT IN LIFE'S FACE!!
'Cause, you have better things to do than to make lemonade!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Something I wrote for September 11th
I remember that fateful day,
Looking around my lunchroom, confused and nothing to say.
In matter of fact, we all were.
Mouths agape and our wits a blur.
Why did this happen? Or rather, how could it?
We tried to make sense, but the details would not fit.
I remember going make home and running to my terrace.
26th floor, people crying, people sighing, the hurt was relentless.
I stood there in shock, as I watched the deep black smoke fill the air.
I could see it clearly, but the smoke was everywhere.
Preventing me from coming to a conclusion,
Filling our heads with confusion.
I remember the fire trucks rushing down the street,
they came quick, fast as a heartbeat.
And I hoped they made it on time,
Uptown to Downtown, that's one heck of a ride.
I remember the people praying.
I remember the people hugging.
I remember what the news was saying.
I remember the people running.
But we as a whole have to remember: Be strong.
Despite who was down there, they were all covered with the same dust.
The dust of pain, the dust of sorrow, and the dust of strength.
Let's not forget the people who rushed down there and helped out.
It's was beyond the job, some felt it was a natural duty.
I remember the people praying.
I remember the people hugging.
I remember what the news was saying.
I remember the people running.
We all remember September 11th.
Looking around my lunchroom, confused and nothing to say.
In matter of fact, we all were.
Mouths agape and our wits a blur.
Why did this happen? Or rather, how could it?
We tried to make sense, but the details would not fit.
I remember going make home and running to my terrace.
26th floor, people crying, people sighing, the hurt was relentless.
I stood there in shock, as I watched the deep black smoke fill the air.
I could see it clearly, but the smoke was everywhere.
Preventing me from coming to a conclusion,
Filling our heads with confusion.
I remember the fire trucks rushing down the street,
they came quick, fast as a heartbeat.
And I hoped they made it on time,
Uptown to Downtown, that's one heck of a ride.
I remember the people praying.
I remember the people hugging.
I remember what the news was saying.
I remember the people running.
But we as a whole have to remember: Be strong.
Despite who was down there, they were all covered with the same dust.
The dust of pain, the dust of sorrow, and the dust of strength.
Let's not forget the people who rushed down there and helped out.
It's was beyond the job, some felt it was a natural duty.
I remember the people praying.
I remember the people hugging.
I remember what the news was saying.
I remember the people running.
We all remember September 11th.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Why the Critics?
It seems to me that every time I give my opinions on life and how I feel, I get heavily criticized for it. Like, why? Why must you open fire at me because you can't stand the way I view the world? Everyone has there own takes on life? I have my opinion and you have yours. You don't have to like mine, because I don't like yours.
Just a small rant. I could go on with the specifics but I'll only hurt my keyboard.
Just a small rant. I could go on with the specifics but I'll only hurt my keyboard.
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