I need to say put this somewhere

I used to be motivated and inspired to write, or to just freely think, by almost anything in this world. I used to think everything and everyone in the world was beautiful and precious, whether it was natural or created. Just the fact that it was able to exist, and the fact that I am able to exist, amazed me. After I started socializing with more people, though, I started to lose that spark. You see, everyone else seems to take everything that exists for granted. I suppose I just was surrounded by so much of it, that it clouded my vision. The worst part of it all is that now I have no pushing force behind me at all. I’m too busy questioning WHY we exist instead of appreciating my existence. I’m well aware of what I’m doing, but I can’t change it. I wish I could just find that momentum to push me in the direction I used to be heading. It feels like I’m so close, like I’m one slight breeze away from turning it around, but the breeze never comes. This is the most I’ve been able to write with any creativity in probably years, which wasn’t like me at all, before. It’s so frustrating to know what’s wrong with you, but what’s wrong with you is why you can’t fix what’s wrong with you. I need to be motivated and inspired in order to continue being motivated and inspired. I wish I stayed that way, but people had to bring me, not down to earth, but into a hole deep inside the earth, where I’m suffocating myself and making it worse with my own struggling. I wish I could just live, instead of worrying about how to live. I feel empty. I almost wrote that I need a purpose, but then I realized: I need to not worry about my purpose. I need to be free again...but where is the key to my chains? They seemed to just get tighter and tighter as time went on, but now I feel as if I’m getting some slack, and for what? Do other people have this struggle? I wish I were simpler. Complexity burns. Is something wrong with me, or is it everyone else in the world?

Revelation 14:7 in dreams...

He said in a loud voice, "Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come. Worship him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water."

Alright, so, I had this really strange and kinda depressing dream a few weeks ago...is was pretty uneventful, and the only thing it really accomplished was reminding me that my dad was dead...kinda sad, right?

Well, I dunno, in all honesty, that's a normal dream for me. The weird part was at the end, right before I woke up...the image I saw was this:

Revelation 14:7

Alright, I've read The Bible, but I'm not fluent in verses...I dunno, my mind could have just been making something up, but it's just too weird to ignore. Biblical verses didn't really fall in line with the rest of the dream, so I looked up the verse...and was scared at what I saw. What was the message I was supposed to get from it? Was it supposed to be positive? Negative?

I've had some pretty out of the ordinary religious dreams for one who doesn't go to church...like about 2 years ago, when I had a 2 second long dream. That's in real time. In dream time, it felt like hours, maybe days. I remember closing my eyes and seeing 4:12 am on my alarm clock. Then, in my mind were pictures of an aerial view of a city with beautiful white ivory towers, fields stretching on for miles...then the towers started to fall. It was slow, seeming to sink into the ground. This went on for a very long time, until there was nothing left, and it was just a barren land. It's hard to express on here, but it seemed like I was asleep forever. When I opened my eyes, the clock still said 4:12 am, but I was fully rested.

I'm sure there are other similar dreams, but I probably haven't realized it...I'm just trying to make sense of them, hoping someday I will understand. There's a lot of hypotheses out there, now it's just the waiting game to see which is true...a friend suggested I'm a prophet. That'd be hard to handle...

Laziness and Reason...then Ozymandias. =]

I've learned a lot of things. I've figured out a lot of those things on my own. I could do anything. I could know anything...everything, even. That's actually one of the only things I want in life. Call me arrogant, whatever you will...I just call it honesty. I have more potential than anyone can realize. And what do I do with it?

Nothing.

I don't have any ambition. It's all due to my potential, my previous knowledge. I was raised without having a great challenge...for me, at least. I was raised knowing things many years above my level. I'm a prodigy, but I have nothing to show for it. That's because I don't want to.

I know all of these things I could be doing, and I know exactly how I would do them. The only thing I am lacking in my plans is a purpose. Why should I? What is the reason behind the plan? If you ask me about anything I do, or have done, I will have a reason. I don't do anything without a reason. If there was no obvious reason, I find a reason. That's how I live. Nowadays, I just go with the flow. I do what my body does, but think what my mind thinks. My body goes on autopilot, my mind thinks over every aspect of anything imaginable as soon as it gets a chance, planning out plans that will never follow through. Very rarely does my mind encourage my body to actually become involved with one of these fully-processed thoughts. I don't have a reason.

I guess it all comes back to my own selfishness. I'm very selfish, but at least I admit it. If you actually follow this blog, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about...I don't see how these things would fully benefit me personally. I would love to know absolutely everything. It may sound impossible, but oh well, I'll try. The greatest part about it is...all I have to do is think about it, and I know it. But there you go: I would love to know absolutely everything. But then, what would I use it for? I would have spent my whole life learning everything, except for the one thing you can only know when you die. And then once I'm dead, this world will no longer concern me. So what do I get out of helping with the future? My name to be remembered until they forget about me? Who really cares? I don't want to be known. I want to be alone, except for a group of close friends. I guess it all comes down to my hatred of mankind...They're thoughts, actions, everything as a whole. There are honestly very few people I could stand knowing forever. Human nature is just so...horrible. Hypocritical. People (as a whole) are extremely stupid.

Anyway, on to the other part of this title: Ozymandias. Not Rameses II, not the sonnet...but the character in Watchmen. Adrian Veidt. In Watchmen, he was said to be "The smartest man alive," but also fast enough to catch a bullet. If you've never seen the ending, oh well, I'm gonna ruin it for you. He starts a master plot to help the world. He prevents war and starts peace by taking away tension between the USA and the USSR, and gives them a reason to join together against a different foe. In the process, though, he kills millions of innocent people. Millions to save billions. No one would've known it was him behind the plot, but Rorshach's journal got leaked...

Yes, he wouldn't have gotten the credit for the peace, and would have remained quiet about it. The first thing is, though, that he was already famous. He was very widely known. Second, is that he was trying to help a lost cause. I agree with what his intentions were...and though I could try and try to think of something to help people out more, why should I? I didn't cause any problems, humanity did. If I helped them out, they'd take it all for granted, and want more. Eventually, things would change back to how they were. "Nothing lasts forever."

I wouldn't want to help the world we live in. Everyone is more greedy and power-hungry than anyone could even imagine, and every single person is. Why would I want to perpetuate something like that, when it's something that will never change?

Straight Edge?

So, I was recently called xStraightxEdgex or something like that...I think that's how you do it. :P I was talking to a guy I know, in the army, Tyler. He used to be into all kinds of drugs and everything, and listened to all the hardcore music and stuff that I listen to, but completely against alcohol. Since he joined the army, he had to stop with all the drugs and everything, you know, so he picked up drinking. He got really bad with it for a while, but now has found a happy medium. He was shocked when I told him I have never done drugs, alcohol, or tobacco, and even prescription medications. He asked me if I put black x's on the back of my hands, too. I looked at him all confused, and just said, "huh?"

He says, "Yeah, aren't you straight edge?" I told him I wasn't, I didn't even know what it was...

I went back to my room that night and researched it. I guess it's a subculture of hardcore/punk music that's totally against drugs and alcohol, and tobacco products. A lot of people extend it to mean prescription drugs, avoiding casual sex, becoming vegan, and even avoiding caffeine.

A big sign to show that you're xStraightxEdgex is putting the black x's on your hands. This was started when bands played at clubs or bars, and the younger people who weren't allowed alcohol had to have the x's on their hands to let the servers know not to give them alcohol. One band picked up on this, and on the cover of the album showed 2 hands with the x's on them, and thus it became the straight edge symbol.

It's a good thing that the straight edge scene exists, and that people want to be a part of it. The problem I have with it is that a lot of people probably do it just to fit in somewhere. I guess I was "xStraightxEdgex" before I even knew it existed...why do other people have to want to be straight edge to stay away from harmful substances? I guess I just don't understand other people...Oh, and I'm also sure that there are people who put the x's on their hands just to fit in, when they are still doing all the drugs and alcohol, which is even worse...much worse.

So, what I'm saying is, is that I probably am now considering myself "xStraightxEdgex" but I'm not going to exploit it or feel the need to show it off to the world. I can be straight edge wherever and however I want, I will not fall into the conformity! :P

Well this is kinda weird...a big look into my mind, I suppose.

I can't really say that I miss him, or that I will miss him. I did enough of that growing up. He was there, but usually not nearly in the ways I wanted him to be. When he was there, I usually didn't want him to be there. When he was gone, I was usually glad he was gone. It was freedom from him.

He rarely had a problem with me. I stayed out of his way. I really didn't like being in his presence. I was afraid of him. I didn't know what his disposition would be at that moment. It usually wasn't positive, though. The times he was happy didn't last long, and he would snap at the drop of a hat. He would shout and yell, I would leave, never taking his words seriously. 90% of the time it was the alcohol talking anyway. He could yell for hours, but it was rarely directed at me. Only once or twice it got serious with me.

That was after I started sticking up, not even for myself. I have little self-respect, if you haven't noticed, and could care less about people degrading me. It's his targets I would stick up for. This shocked him, but it had to stop. It began to work.

Then there was the time I had to get the focus onto myself so he didn't try to put it on someone else. This is the only time it got physical with me. I'd seen him get physical with each one of my siblings and my mother numerous times, but this was the first and only time with me.

It was over some stupid little thing. He just wanted an excuse to yell at me, and focus on me. I kept the focus on me so the other 2 with me wouldn't be involved. "Say one more thing and I'll smack you!" "Go ahead and hit me, I don't care." Try to get past him, and WHAM! Right to my face. I pushed him back to get past, but then he looked at my mother, then back to me with such rage in his eyes. Did I really just strike back? How?

Thus, it began. He began swinging away. I brought him down and wrestled him until I believed he'd had enough. Then we rose to our feet. He began yelling, my mother in between us. He reached up to hit again, and I moved my mother away and took the hit. Then, I landed my single punch on him, and he turned to spit blood in the sink.

I left the house that night, but before I did, I looked him in the eye and told him I loved him. I told him it wasn't his fault. I came back 2 weeks later.

That was the only time. That night changed him. A couple months later, he went back to the alcohol. He would get angry still, but rarely raised his voice. Then he got diagnosed with cancer.

We thought it was mostly controlled. I went to Basic Training. Then, during the middle, I received a letter from my mother telling me that it was a bad week. They found more cancer in his other lung, his eye, and lymph nodes. I cried that day, but looking back on it now...I cried for my mother. Why did she have to be there alone to care for him?

I continued training, went through AIT...came home for Christmas. He seemed to be doing as good as he could be, trying at least to remain a little positive. He could move by himself, but would just get tired easily. He told me and my brothers how proud he was of us. I told him we had strong influences growing up. I also thought to myself, "we see the negatives of bad choices..." I never hated him, I loved him. It was his choices I hated. Choices we didn't need to be around growing up.

I returned to more training, and came back in February. He was doing way worse. Bedridden, most of the time. Slept all day, so of course he was. The only things he'd get up for were to go to the bathroom or to drink. He had an altered mental status, saying crazy things. My mother stayed home with him all the time now, instead of working. I didn't want to be there, so I was away from home the majority of the month. When I left at the end of the month, I knew it'd be the last time I talked to him. I told him I loved him, he told me he was always proud of me. I kissed his forehead and left.

I left to come here, to South Korea. Too far away from home, if you ask me. Way too far. I felt a little guilty for not spending enough time with my mother. She didn't need to have to deal with all of that by herself. She'd send me updates about her worrying about if she's making the right decisions or not. She asked me for advice, and I did my best. I worried...about her. I'm very blunt about things, so here it is: I knew my father was going to die soon, so I didn't really care about that. What I didn't know was what my mom was going to do afterwards, and how to make her feel more at ease from the other side of the world.

Then, he died. I went home that same day. My mother was okay. We were honestly relieved. No more suffering over him, just grieving now. For me, the grieving was nonexistant. For my mother, it was short.

I went home. It was like nothing changed. He wasn't there, just like I imagined when I was growing up.

Now, I just worry about my mother. She has to change, and deal with being alone. She's never lived alone her whole life.

Once I get out of the Army, she'll always live with me. I won't let her live alone again.

Momma's boy until the end, no matter what...

But I really DO love you, Dad, and always will. I'll continue to make you proud, and I wish I could have changed you sooner.

And by golly, my grieving has begun.

I'm afraid I'm only crying right now for the father I missed out on, and not the one I had. I don't know for sure, and things like that is what scares me the most...not knowing.

My fourth post, I guess...

I've known for a while that the majority of the human race is addicted to drama. People get so bored with their lives that they either have to add some "pizazz" to their own worthless life (by starting a conflict), or the ever-popular prying into other peoples' business. From their, they can either take 2 paths: just sit and watch to get their enjoyment, or feed the flames. Most of the time, they know if they try to help it'll cause more drama. This just encourages most people...either way, people disgust me. I hate the human race, if you haven't already deduced that. Our existance is pointless, at least that's how it seems to me. I just treat everything I do as an experiment to get my own kicks, I don't try to provoke drama...stupid people.

Process of a Thought

In reality, all that exists is thoughts. In reality, thoughts don't exist. In reality, there is no reality. Just thoughts. Confusing, eh? You're telling me! Try being the guy who came up with this nonsense!

So basically, we have the question thought: I wonder...What if? Who? Where? When? How? Most important...Why? Then, you have your hypothesis thought, your self-answering thought. If you come up with a good enough answer, or even if not, it's briefly truth. It becomes your reality for however long you think it's the correct answer. Once you learn a new "correct" answer, that becomes your reality. Basically, we ask, and then we know. There are no in-betweens. Just changes, transitions.

Reality is whatever we perceive. You've probably heard this before...because it's true! Well, at least I perceive it to be true. You could perceive it to be a watermelon-flavored polar bear. That'd make it reality. To you, at least. If you believe something strong enough, it's real to you. Maybe no one else can see or believe it, it doesn't make it any less real. Who are they to infringe upon your reality? They have their own, they should just worry about that.

We see different cultures and say, "oh, why do they do that? Doesn't it bother them?!?!" Of course the answer is "no." It's all they know. It's their life, their reality. They all look at us and think the same thing. They believe what they're doing is the right thing, so it is. Who are we to decide what's right and wrong? We're no one. Who are we to tell people how they should live their lives? Why don't you ask the U.S. Government, I'm sure they have a good reason why they try to control everyone...nevermind.

Anyways, our realities are formed and shaped when we're younger, and become slightly more concrete as we grow. There's still the possibility of some influence changing our lives when we are older, but that depends on how you were raised. If you were raised to be totally stubborn and stick to a few beliefs, then you won't be influenced as easily. If you're raised to be totally, completely open-minded, then your reality will be constantly changing.

I ask you to "think" about this, then "know" whether it's real or not...to you. We all know it's real to me, or at least we think we know. :D