earth looks nice from the clouds

The day started to the soothing tones of an alarm at 6:07. Getting ready was easy. Breakfast was skipped as plans were to eat in the orbiteria (the cafeteria here at Orbital). A drive to work with faint traces of a rising sun was ever so relaxing. My state of mind was entirely unprepared for the day ahead of me.

Much to my surprise I was not the first intern to march in to work today. Alexis beat me by about two minutes. A race I found myself very content in having lost. Her discovery of a way to listen to music while at her desk brought her to the conclusion that Today is going to be a great day. Chit chat filled the first few minutes in the office, but I knew I probably had an e-mail waiting for me, and just had to go check. I had no idea that a simple e-mail could have such an amazing effect on me. Yes, it was from her. The effect was immediate. Alexis saw that it was ever so clear that I was on cloud nine, and that I was most definitely not going to get anything done today. She was absolutely right. I couldn't contain myself any longer, so I proceeded to tell her more about our relationship. Of course in my account Alexis inserted many awws. When I was done she reminded me, "Told you today was going to be a great day."

On that note I figured I would march on down to the orbiteria. As I walked up to the door I found out that it was closed till after New Years, which makes sense since most sane people don't work between Christmas and New Years. Desperately needing food I was plotting a back up plan when Alexis offered me the Dunkin Donuts Berry Bagel. It was glorious. Until this morning I actually didn't know Dunkin Donuts had bagels, but thanx to Alexis I have been enlightened. Thanx much yo!

The following hours were basically spent surfing the web. I found many very interesting things.


My home town as of right now. I love it when it floods in St.Mark Square. I mean really, isn't that awesome?


I swear, I was not adopted. This is my grandfather and me. Never mind the fact I'm a foot taller.

The surfing brought me down to earth a little bit, thus I felt it safe to listen to the brain once again. My conclusion from all of this was that God chooses to bless His children tremendously. Granted I didn't deserve any of this. I didn't deserve love, but it still happened. Once again a reminder that things still happen regardless of our conduct.

bohemian vagabond

"Where is your home?" asked my four-year-old brother. My fumbled answer left him as confused as before. The reality of the matter is that I have no home. I have come of age to leave the family. I no longer belong under my father's roof. My days at my collegiate home are nearly over as crossing the stage in a robe will happen in little over four months. As of now my home is my car. Actually, that's not even mine, it's my parent's, my car is dead.

The phenomenon of being a vagabond is a great one. Christmas break has evidenced my nack for being a successful homeless twenty-one year old. Every day the car takes me to work, regardless of my state of my mind, I still find myself walking through the front doors of the building I work in every morning. Often I wonder how I get here every day, because I usually don't remember the trip here. Leaving work simply means I will spend hours in my car. Hours that don't usually imply gas consumption. My cell phone consistenly accompanies the nearing end of the day as I park in neighborhoods foreign to me and talk to the princess. My head meets the pillow in the house of people I know barely beyond a name. Few of my belongings abode in the room designated as mine. Most of what I brought with me on break rarely leaves the car for very long.

Weekends are the best, leaving work is directly followed by a two hour trip to my parents house. It is becoming less and less my home. My preference is to be a guest over being a resident. Comments from the parental figures about how the car is a mess are frequent. Their opinion is that I should not keep so much in the car. It appears messy. If I don't keep my things in the car, where would I keep my stuff? I have no home, and I love it.

"Outcast! I am an outcast...I am a vagabond to the bottom of my heart." - Jehan Frollo du Moulin in The Hunchback of Notre Dame

Music is Emotion

“Here [I am] to sing you a song.” – Finch

A small room poorly lit. Opaque paint on the walls chipping off here and there. The amps are all facing the drum set. The lead singer is cornered behind the high hat. His screams don’t need a mike to be heard by the band. Energy flows from the desperation of the feelings overwhelming the lyrics. In spite of the quasi-anger they’re all having fun. The guitarist loves his riff. The bass is being wailed upon. I can see smiles as they tightly hold on to the rhythm. They don’t need an audience, the simple fact they are playing together is good enough. Having twelve square feet, a few amps and drums gives the sound they love. A mosh-pit, screaming girls, and T-shirts is optional if not despised. Playing for mere pleasure is how true music happens.

Yes, I think Finch is an amazing band. I totally agree with Justin on this one. I get so much out of their music. Actually, I get so much out of music in general. Two days ago my Dad commented, “you really enjoy music way more than I do.” The crazy thing is that he is amazingly gifted musically. He can really sing. I have close to no natural musical talent, but I absolutely love to listen and play music. It invades my thoughts and my soul. It permeates into all of my being. Lyrics of a song speak to me a thousand times louder than any superb piece of literature. The emotion conveyed by a chord progression gives true meaning to words. I wish I could really transmit to all of you what music really is but “the limits of my language” prevent me from really communicating how I feel. But in music not even language can stop emotion from flowing.

The Mystical Portal

"Only music mattered." - Chumbawamba

I'm pretty sure that Counting Crows were meant to be listened to in the cold. Even though I find myself inside I can see my breath just listening to them. I picture them playing bundled in heavy winter jackets and gloves. I can see the lead singers breath comin out in rithym with the lyrics. I can see them crowded around a fire housed in a tin trash can. I think the mental picture belongs on a corner in Manhattan. I can see a yellow cab pull up as the passenger window goes down allowing some Indian cab driver to briefly enjoy the relaxing tunes of an almost happy nature. And of course the lyrics are being picked up by a microphone dating no later than 1958. Alright, now I want to go to New York and just chill exposing myself to the delightful music of a street performer.

This is the effect music has on me. The ability to keep my mind from wandering where it wants is beyond me. Is everybody like this? What effect does music have on you? Does it spark your imagination? Do you sometimes find yourself walking through a jungle? Have you ever seen the Gobi desert? Have you ever crossed Australia? Have you ever stared satan in the face and seen his fear of you because of what you have inside? For me all this is possible and has been done because of a portal we call music.

Lost in the Crowd

Sitting in a mall. Sounds of Christmas are in the air. Thought of sipping on a shake ran through my mind, and the price convinced me out of it. I'm completely surrounded by mothers and teenagers that had too much time on their hands and still waited till now to do their Christmas shopping. They all have their own lives, and their own problems. Nobody cares what the person next to them is thinking or going through. One lady almost spilt the remainders of her dinner all over me on the way to the trash. Everybody is focused on themselves. Am I this way too? Do I care that little about the world around me? I think so. I am that detached to be able to sit here and write as though I were by myself. I've allowed myself to become americanized. I've been abducted.

"I don't want to feel this way forever." - Thursday

the weather outside is delightful

Residing up North for the Christmas season, to me, seems to be the only way to go. Not only is it a necessity to cover myself with my jacket (perhaps my favorite piece of clothing), but my face is cold when I come inside. The times are often when the need to drink hot chocolate overcomes me. Holding a big cermaic mug as I play cards with my mother is a memory that has been immortalized in my mind. Smelling chocolaty goodness in the air is much better when I can see my breath. Seeing white snow on the sides of the road as I drive to work at unearthly hours makes my morning commute worth while. Standing outside with my arms around a princess, watching snow flakes fall in silence, is etched forever in the depths of my memories. Seagulls flying over the Chesapeake remind me of how wonderful it is to have lining in my jacket. A cozy house has much more meaning if the outdoors are frigid.

Sitting and formatting word documents is not nearly as appealing as blogging. I guess they are paying me to edit their "pieces of literature," not write my own. Any distractions in comment form are appreciated though =D

a freak

today, for the first time since i've been in college, a proclaimed non-christian friend asked if i was a virgin. without hesitation i replied, "yes, i choose to be." at this point the gears in the brain started moving fast, and the following entry is a result of such thinking.

i'm a punk. i'm a hippy. i'm a witch

i stood in tienamen square
i rode with the bolshevic's
i stormed the bastille

i shot a redcoat
i puked on the mayflower
i posted the 95 theses

i was burned at the stake
i stood an egg on end
i believed in a round earth

i spoke on mount carmel
i layed and ate crap
i called fire from heaven

i shot a king in the back
i drove a spear through a head
i stood up to pharaoh

i am called to rebel

crash test dummy

I screwed up. I let a lot of people down. I haven't really slept in a long time. I don't think I will be able to sleep till I get everything done. I have developed this crazy complex. I have to get everything done before I sleep. I know there are many people that are like this always, but I'm not.

Last night my whole world came crashing down. I thank God he sent one of His angels to rescue me. Today, I have refound that peace and joy from God. Yes, I am still in a million pieces, but at least I'm on the right track to put my puzzle back together.

"Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep piling
up on my back.
So hard to breathe,
To take the next step.
The mountains is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace."
-Five Iron Frenzy

Cogito, ergo Sum - Descartes

Which way is up? Which way is down? How am I supposed to know?
I'm just some confused guy that doesn't have enough time to think.
For the next week every minute of my time is accounted for.
So much goin on. Much more than just school.
My future is in limbo. I don't even have plans anymore.
Where am I supposed to be headed?
College is the most permanent thing that has ever happened to me.
I am now swamped.
I don't have time to think about these things.
But if I don't think, do I cease to exist?
Descartes was on to something.
I used to think, therefore I was.
What am I now? I still want to think.
I guess I still do think. I guess i still "am."