Black and White

I think I look better in black and white as opposed to being in living color. Why do I think that? I wonder this thing because I do notice that my wardrobe is primarily plain white or black tee shirts, I notice that I prefer black and white shoes as well, black socks over white socks though.

Do I lack character because I lack color in my life, or does that give me character? One thing though I have noticed is, is that I’ve often had a very strong desire to just let my body somehow fade into the setting sun just before it disappears behind the horizon. What can I take away from that wondering? Am I a dull, black and white sword with jagged edges, or am I a sunset of infinite passion and color?

I have a profound desire for passion but I think others perceive me as being very cold and distant. I simply stand farther away from the fire than most but that only means I appreciate its warmth more than most. But sometimes the fire goes out and I am left in the distance alone and cold with only the thought of how warm I could have been. My only comfort from this way is that regardless of how warm I could have been I’d still rather be in my position, understanding and able to exist steadily in the midst of the darkest most troubling times when others around me panic and fear because they’ve not ever ventured far from the fire before.

I conclude from this that I would prefer to have witnessed from a far the whole scene as it goes out rather than being right in the midst of the event; perspective being swayed back and forth like homeless waters with every headache conjuring witticism that each continually rarer ember that floats into the air carries with it to the skin it lands on. I observe the goingons of the whole flickering fire with my poetic heart, for I feel it my duty to be the observer whose own desires do not supersede the importance of the very record in and of itself.

Does this mean I can’t ever be happy, even just happy in those moments the fire is brightly burning? I only answer this question with another question; are they who stand their whole lives by the fire happy when it fades away?

My only reserve about being the lone observer is that I’ve recently discovered that I have something beautiful that I feel slightly selfish by keeping to myself out there in the night, flickering fire just a speck of amber in my eyes and the shadows dancing around it wrongly signifying other’s happiness yet it still ushers emotions and desires of acceptance by those whom I love and appreciate in my still, almost non-existent way.

This beautiful thing, what is it? It itself as I start to see its significance testifies to me that it is my perspective out there in the night that is what it is that is beautiful. I feel as though I’ve had a shift of thought upon my place recently which has not changed my mind on my lot but given me a truer, less grueling perspective of it. Before, I simply thought that my place out there was always going to be painful and cold and I simply said to myself, “I accept this pain as my lot,” because accepting it somehow made it easier for me to handle, but what I realize now is that my place out there is not painful, it is beautiful, and it is becoming easier to witness from a far the events without shunning all those whom I do witness and do love.

                So, am I black and white? Am I a cold sword? Maybe, but my edges are only as they are because they didn’t simply stand by the fire at one time; they were shaped and beaten in the very furnace of affliction itself, yet also the furnace from an intimate view I would also name the furnace of passion and beauty.

click on me...

                So, my lone stance out there amongst the waving midnight trees is not painful or scary at all, it is wonderful. And I am only black and white in the rays of the moon whom receives its light from some passionate sunset of which I might have perhaps already faded into and am now just understanding that this is my heart’s desire, that the place I just naturally stand is the place I’ve been yearning to get to for what seems as though forever.

I am black and white in what I believe is true, but my heart is not bound by that utter contrast of light and dark in determining its passion for who it loves.



Everyone doesn't die...

When I was young I came to a very profound conclusion. I don’t know why I had this thought and I was probably somewhere around ten when I thought this thing for the first time, and for some reason it has stuck with me all of these years. This conclusion was that I was either going to die young or I was going to live forever.

Now, as funny as that sounds something inside of me has always believed that, and there is nothing I can do about that belief either way. I’ve decided that it’s becoming a little too late for me to die young now and I’ve passed up too many opportunities to already, so that signifies in my mind that I am simply going to live forever, to never taste of death.

I take a deep breath and as strangely scriptural and funnily impossible that vista seems there is nothing in me that doesn’t believe it. I kind of cringe at it slightly though but I think I only do because of an overly cultural saturation of belief that surrounds the prospect of death and finally being able to rest in peace. I yearn to be at peace but death is not what brings that gift to a soul. Peace comes from living and from becoming whole with the patterns of life that we’ve been dealt.

The idea that death automatically solves all of the problems for the deceased is a slightly skewered one. I assume that that belief originated to bring comfort to those who’ve lost loved ones; that comfort is indeed a good thing but why has the general populace’s belief not gone farther beyond that idea and passed the thought that everyone gets to rest for all of eternity?

I believe that the hope of something after we’ve passed on trumps out the origin of fear that there is nothing after this life and it is hope that has caused humanity to discover this eternal truth of continuing life. It is hope that turns to faith and faith is a knowledge, it’s just that the hope of this continuing life is such a beautiful truth that one might conclude that that thing is it and there is no need to delve any deeper beyond that reassurance, and I say it might be that looming possibility of fear that hinders people’s desire to understand more about the life hereafter, for it might mean more responsibility in this life.

That is naturally how we humans think and operate isn’t it? When there is a devastating occurrence we search for something, but what is it that we search for? For the most part I believe we search for something that is true to bring us comfort but we also at the same time act as a sort of negotiator between our soul and our body. We subconsciously balance and weigh how much truth is enough for our immediate comfort without implementing too much responsibility upon ourselves. And life after death is that perfect median of comfort that there really is something after we die but we weigh that idea in our minds and conclude that there is no way to know anything more about it so as to impede the responsibility of acting appropriately in this life.

But I say that our eternal stance doesn’t change when we die, only our way of existing. We are a soul, a soul of infinite depth and passion, a soul able to feel things that you’ve never fathomed, a soul that can be tarnished by guilt and pain yet can be cleansed from the sufferings of eternity. We are beings beyond description yet it is my conviction that the deepest parts of the gospel, concerning the most remarkably established principles of even our potential and even Godhood are not as completely confusing and un-understandable as I think we’ve let ourselves believe.

When I was younger I thought that there was no way to ever fathom the extents of the Atonement. I understand that it is so incredible and beyond everything that I’ve ever felt but I think being in the mindset of thinking that no one can ever comprehend its infinite passion is a rut of a way of thinking. I believe that we can understand so much more about God and how He actually functions in a literal, real way. 

“There is a science of the soul,

And one of the plan God has for us,

It’s not that we can’t understand,

We just on it haven’t thought enough.”

It is un-real, but when your reality uncovers its face you can look into the eyes of truth itself, and truth becomes your reality in the midst of a widely accepted ocean of deception, and the thing about this life is that we are surrounded by deception and those who would have us believe those deceptions. So when truth becomes your reality you start to see things that are to others un-real. This thing is what I believe to be a portion of what is called a paradigm shift, a change in the way we used to understand things, and it is this very concept that causes me to write about how we all live in a different world even though our bodies are all here on Earth.

We all have immensely conflicting thoughts and ideas in the way we perceive the reality around us, some of insignificant and trivial differences but the question I ask is, are all of these conflicting perceptions equal in their stances when it comes to the principles of the universe? If that is the case, then no one is right and no one is wrong in their ideas and if that is the case then there is no sin and if there is no sin then there is no righteousness which means there is no God or devil which then means we don’t have joy or pain which means to me that we simply do not exist at all.

This is the paradox of the universe, if there is anything at all, there must be some type of right and wrong, light and dark, good versus evil, God and Satan and all of the existing elements in-between (us) swaying back and forth between the two. I say there are things that are true and there are things that are not true, that’s what I say and if that truly is the case then there must be different levels of truth in our actions, and the way we perceive what is good or not good around us must utterly be lightened or dimmed by the things we choose to do. If we are continually doing one act of something that is not true we might have convinced ourselves that it is not a bad thing to do when in the spectrum and perception of the unchanging universal principles of truth it is. Our light in that one thing has been dimmed so we can’t understand our un-enlightenment in that thing until what? Until we receive some type of information from another and then choose to have faith enough in trying to change our way in that action.

This thing is why we need to be submissive, because when we are not submissive then we can never change for good. When we are submissive, act on that hope, and have faith then is when we start to see a higher plain of reality, not, and I say not merely a different, equal plain of reality but a higher more enlightened plain of being. We all live in a different world based off of our understanding of truth and enlightenment and willingness to be submissive to those truths and enlightenments once we’ve been introduced to them.

Everyone doesn’t die, that is only a misconception by the populace’s general understanding of living.

I always knew I was bulletproof...

Jacob Duane leTaverner Winterfeldt

Karen Kay Kennedy (mother)

John Wayne Kennedy (grandfather)

Leon Andrew Kennedy (great grandfather)

Mary A. Stein (great, great grandmother)

Catherine Zehner (great, great, great grandmother)

David Zehner (great, great, great, great grandfather)

John Adam Zehner (great, great, great, great, great grandfather)

Johann Adam Zehner (great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather)

There was a poem written about this man Johann Adam Zehner (The Ballad of Adam Zehner) and it gives a brief life history of him. I think it is awesome the story it tells about this man, and I always knew I had magic blood in me, in only one quatrain it briefly talks about how the Indians couldn’t kill him because he was “bulletproof” and how he ended up with bullet holes in his clothing but was never hurt.

“The Indians stole the horses once.
Four days Adam hunted.
He finally found and brought them back
Having the thieves confronted.
(Ach ya, vell dey von't shteal no more horses around here, dat's for sure.)

They said Adam was bulletproof.
No Indian could hurt him.
He got a bullet through his hatbrim once
And another through his shirt sleeve.”

If you’re interested in reading the rest of the poem google search “The Ballad of Adam Zehner” click on “poems and recordings: the farm.”

Abraham Lincoln/Class

Art

I’m not supposed to draw portraits but I get so bored drawing apples and toys and flowers. I took a picture of myself and sketched a self-portrait first (which you’re not going to see) but I wanted to draw somebody famous so I figured the Abe Lincoln photo would be perfect. It’s what I can do so enjoy the pic. I enjoy water-color but I think I’m going to take a drawing class next term.

English

I’m excited to see what my English teacher thinks of my paper. I think it’s good but I have no idea what these teacher people are like in their thinking… I mean, I’ve done my best to keep it in the format they want and I’ve written about the general field they suggested but I’ve never written a school paper before so I have no idea what they are expecting from me. I like what I wrote… that has to count for something.

Auto

Auto class! Truthfully, I love this class because it’s pretty easy so far and I actually feel like I’m learning what I’ve always felt I should know a lot more of. I’ve always had a general knowledge of cars but I’ve also always felt like I should know a lot more then what I do, so this class is great for me and really fun.

Math

Math… o, bother… K, here’s my opinion on this. Math, at least this math that I’m learning is not hard to learn. It’s just a matter of actually consistently doing it. O, by the way, I was bumped out of my, learning place value and adding big numbers class, to learning how to do math with letters class, but the thing is it is hard to focus on this math thing all the time. I feel like if I’m not doing it nearly all the time I won’t progress in it and I simply just can’t do it all the time. I don’t think I’m doing very well in this class but if it were the only class I had I feel like I could easily fly through it. It’s just that I feel like if I’m going to do it I want to do it all the way and just do math all day long but I can’t just focus on math and nothing else, but I want to. And since I can’t do that my natural way of thinking is, “what’s the point?” I definitely need to learn to be more rounded in life because that is a reason I’ve not done a lot of things because if I do something I want to just sit and do that and nothing else until I’ve mastered it. It’s just the way I naturally think, I don’t know why. So I need to learn to do things a little bit every day instead of just being heroic in one field. O, and yes, I am promoting a new word if you haven’t gathered that yet, “Heroic…” it’s so much better than “epic”.

PE

After losing a showdown battle with my PE teacher I feel like I dropped the bomb on him and won the war psychologically when I threw down my very detailed PE class journal on his desk and strolled with my undeniable Jake swagger out of his office stating as I went, “I guess I won’t need that anymore” I made brief eye contact with him one last time before I finally was out of his presence. I think I made him feel bad but I think it was well needed since all he had to do was sign my add card. There was plenty of room in his class, he just “never had time” enough to take the thirty seconds it took to write his name on a little piece of paper for me. He blew me off four times and every time told me to come back a different day and time so he could do it and finally on the last day to add classes this showdown happened, and I may have lost this battle but truthfully, I think if one has the upper hand psychologically as opposed to physically you’re always the victor, and I think I pwned his face off in that last conflict. You should have been there, it was epic.  (yes, epic is still acceptable in certain cases…) I’m going to take this class next semester and stomp all over it with my new running shoes…

Art vs. Math

Learning how to write a paper “the way I’m supposed to” in this thing they call MLA format is quite fun. I greatly enjoy learning the proper techniques to be able to get along in this life; it gives me much needed structure. That said, I will never stray far from my own personal format of writing of which I’ve found great relief and comfort, and I will always write the way I originally learned how to, under the stars in my swing, wrapped up in my blanket watching the snow drift by, typing from the very depths of my heart in a way I believe that is not lacking or void of rules but rather what I might consider a truer guideline from the soul as opposed to the standards set by scholars. I greatly appreciate these people in high academic standings for creating some form of guideline to live by, and I strive to become more knowledgeable in these ways but like I said, I could write a perfect paper in the eyes of my English teacher and be proud of it, but to me it’ll never be better than other things that I’ve written that don’t have my name in the far right hand corner of the header, and aren’t double spaced, or properly cited, or paragraph strewn. I still don’t understand this paragraph thing, I know the need to split up your ideas into smaller section of more organized thought but I find myself losing my train of thought when I try and figure out where I need to start a new paragraph when I just write and just write. Maybe my passion for creating something beautiful with my collected masses of letters and words mixed with a little more professionalism and structure might turn out to be something great, who knows. I do enjoy school very much, my only problem is that I just don’t know what I want to focus on. I love learning how to write, I love learning how to paint, I love learning how to do math, I love learning how to fix cars, I love being physically fit, I want to learn how to play the piano too but all of these things can’t all be my passion. Alright, lets break this down for my benefit; I don’t want to be a mechanic but it comes more easily to me than most other things, an engine is like a complex puzzle and that appeals to my logistical/hands on type of learning. Then there is art, I don’t want to be an art major but I love to draw and paint and take pictures, it appeals greatly to my creative side and I love creating beautiful pieces of artwork. Let’s see, I don’t want to be a health nut and be one of those people that get up at four thirty in the morning and jog seventeen miles before going to work every morning but I love to hike and be physically active. I don’t want to major in music but I often find myself wishing I could find some way to create a great tune to all of the lyrics floating around in my head. I could learn about world religion and philosophy and how goodness is great and all that mumbo jumbo, that appeals greatly to my psychological side. Hey! Why not psychology? I love understanding why people think things and why they even think at all, I could learn all about the cosmos, I like stars and learning how planets come into existence. O man, I think what all this is getting to is something that I think I’ve already concluded subconsciously, and that is Physics… I know what you’re thinking; Physics equals heroic math skills and abilities. I’ve never been particularly good at math but for some reason I want to get good at it and truthfully I think that physics applies to and appeals to all of those sides in me that I’ve just talked about. It is a grand puzzle, it is art, it is philosophy, it is nature, it is poetry, it is the building blocks of understanding everything there is, even God. If you know me at all tell me that this little explanation of physics taken from Wikipedia doesn’t sound like the very person I am,

Physics (from Ancient Greek: φύσις physis "nature") is a natural science that involves the study of matter^[1] and its motion through spacetime, as well as all related concepts, including energy and force.^[2] More broadly, it is the general analysis of nature, conducted in order to understand how the universe behaves.

There it is folks, I’m taking baby steps to this college thing but this is my ultimate goal. Out off all of those other things that I love I think that this embodies all of them into one grand…some word I can’t think of… and to me this is the most utterly fascinating thing there is, I mean come on, who doesn’t inherently yearn to understand matter’s continual motion through spacetime and how the universe behaves? I mean seriously, there is nothing better. It’s what taught me how to write in the first place, the creak of my swing and the shine of the stars, now, tell me is that not physics? I say it is and it imbues the perfect mixture of spirit vs. law, art vs. math and every subject in-between. It adheres perfectly to my artistic and analytical sides and passions. It is the beautiful forgiving sunset, yet it also displays its unchanging rule of consequence. It is as God is, and faith in a religion is only the basis and beginning to understating Godhood. We must not only search the scriptures but we must also learn how our universe functions to truly understand the way our God functions. I believe that with all my heart because I believe that God is that He is, and that he only is God because He understands matter, he understands spacetime, he understands energy and force, and truly He understand how the very ends of the universe behave. Hmmm… Maybe my passion for creating art mixed with my desire to learn the stricter notions of reality might end up becoming something great, truthfully, who knows…    

Some words may differ but you will remember...

So, here you are, whomever you may be, a single person out of billions reading this blog, reading this blog out of millions of other blogs that are much more decently put together, much more organized, much more thought provoking, much more in touch with the culture around you, much more… a lot of things, so for whatever reason you are here today I must admit something to you that I’m not sure you’ve realized yet, it’s that when you read these words from this very blog you are actually not only reading my words but you are riding a train with a worried old wanderer who makes stops along his way to whatever end in small towns not often visited. These stops represent my wonderings, my trains of thought that are well escaped from the big cities. This way of life, (traveling the railways to the ends of the universe) takes its toll on the body. Sometimes I think I would trade all of these writings, all of my crazy ideas, all of these pages and pages of pure written thought that I’ve accumulated over the past few years, all of my experiences, all of my passions and vivid desires for simply a good night sleep. For maybe just a week of good night sleeps. I think other times that my trains only carry empty cargo not worth opening or exploring, then I think there must be a gem hidden in one of these crates that I’ve written about somewhere. But if it shall be empty or full of treasure I shall nary cease to be thankful regardless, thankful for what? Thankful for my weary night sleeps when I was able to come up with all of these ideas in the first place. So, I thank you, whoever you may be for occasionally accompanying me on my weary journeys to these odd places. Thank you for helping these places that I’ve written of become more of a reality because I assure you, these places exist and I visit them every time I write, and whatever it is that I write shall be because I have written it, if I’ve written it that means it has come from somewhere so it must have always existed, and when it is read, then it forever becomes a part of the reader and will never cease to be, so that makes my thoughts, whatever they be real and never ending, they will go on long after my physical train chugs to a dead stop and puffs out its last bit of exhaust, they will always continue somewhere, somehow till the ends of forever. So, here you are, whomever you may be, a single person out of billions reading this blog, reading this blog out of hundreds of thousands of other blogs that are much more decently gathered, much more prepared, much more thought provoking, much more in touch with the society around you, much more… a lot of other things, so for whatever reason you are here today I must admit something to you that I’m not sure you’ve realized yet, it’s that when you read these words from this very blog you aren’t only reading my words but you are hopping a train with a worried old wonderer who makes short visits along his way to whatever end in little towns not often visited. These stops symbolize my wanderings, my trains of thought that are well traveled outside of the big cities. This way of life, (traveling the railways to the ends of the cosmos) takes its toll on me. Sometimes I think I would give all of these writings, all of my crazy ideas, all of these pages and pages of pure written thought that I’ve accumulated over the past few years, all of my experiences, all of my passions and vivid desires for simply a good night sleep, for maybe just a few weeks of good night’s sleep. I think other times that my trains only carry empty cargo not worth opening or exploring and then I think there must be a gem hidden in one of these crates that I’ve written about somewhere. But if it shall be empty or full of treasure I shall nary cease to be thankful regardless, thankful for what? Thankful for the nights that I was able to sleep well and still be able to create something I consider beautiful, beautiful to whom? Beautiful to me and to those who know me a little bit. So, I thank you, whoever you may be for occasionally accompanying me on my weary journey to these odd places of interest. Thank you for helping these places that I’ve written of become more of a reality because I assure you, these places really do exist and I visit them every time I write, and whatever it is that I write shall be because I have written it, and if I’ve written it that means it has come from somewhere so it must have always existed, and when it is read, then it forever becomes a part of the reader and will never cease to be, so that makes my thoughts, whatever they be real and never ending. They will go on long after my physical train chugs to a dead stop and puffs out its last bit of exhaust. They will continue in one form or another. Some details may change and words may differ but the memory of it will always exist within someone’s mind, and even if all those minds turn to dust the feel of bumps and the noise of those funny towns will echo within the consciousness’s of those spirits who’ve learned them, those souls who’ve loved me and comforted me and entertained me and been entertained by me as they’ve ridden down these railways of thought with me. They will never forget and I do say that I will not ever forget either. I don’t know what shall become of these exact words but one day I’ll find myself reflecting upon a strange little town that I once visited and let’s see, what was it called? Something like… I can’t quite remember but it was beautiful and incredibly thought provoking to say the least because I remember that it was wonderful and that’s all I need to know. that is all we need to remember, that this place was wonderful and beautiful beyond mere words.

Richard G. Scott Art Exhibit

Campfire at Sunset. Painting by Richard G. Scott

The lone figure standing near the fire portraits a grand sense of solemnity as the passionate radiance of the sun descends below the wild country horizon. The vivid orange color dominating the scene makes it look as if even the sparse forest hills are on fire. There seems to be a light fog riding in as the rays of the sun fade away. The barren, uneven earth before the man shows the intensity of the sheer wilderness he is placed in and his mere presence there in that grand wilderness only typifies the greatness of the human soul in overcoming and conquering the grand, fiery world around us. Truly inspiring is this painting in its depiction of a rare but very real moment in what I believe are times in all of our lives, where the sun is setting but still we are there and we are the only ones to witness the beauty before it is gone. Very humbling I would say in this moment and truly awe inspiring.      

Before The World Was, I Am. Paintings By Richard G. Scott

“Before the world was, I Am,” is remarkably beautiful to me. It depicts the artist, Richard G. Scott’s interpretation of matter unorganized. The billowy clouds of darkness wholly surrounding symbolizes in my mind the vast uncertainty of existence, of our very being. Where is my place? Where is my grace? Who am I and where do I go from where I am? It’s almost as if the pink cloud breaking forth through the shrouding darkness is a mirror of our very own selves searching for the most profound symbol I believe to be depicted within this work of incredibly beautiful art, the simple, yet deeply intricate pinprick of light in the distance. Probably in a literal interpretation of this work it was meant to be a star in the infinite cosmos of the universe but to me it represents hope, the light that exists within ourselves when we are completely surrounded by clouds of darkness. I say that this painting embodies everything that we are as human beings, our innermost passions and desires, our weaknesses and external demons that loom and persist, and lastly, that shinning bit of hope that we yearn for in those moments of true despair, keeping us always pressing forward toward a new light, a new state of understanding and to a place of goodness and peace where we can find refuge from the looming darkness. Before the world was, I Am, and through all states of being I shall always be.

School and Rules

Well, here I am, the night before school starts. Am I nervous? No. Am I worried? Not really. I however might be a little sad though. I mean this because I only wish I had had this desire a long time ago. I had a few opportunities and even enrolled a couple times in different schools but those times I didn’t have that yearning desire or wondrous vision, I was only doing it because it was what I was supposed to do and to appease what others wanted me to do which only led to some pretty sad events in my life. This time is different though, I want this so much and there are no worries, just excitement and like I said just a tint of sadness in my lateness. But it is time to press forward diligently now up and out of my old thought patterns and use all of the blessings that I have at my disposal. I’ve tried to do things on my own in the past but I’ve realized that I can’t do anything that way. I’ve realized that I need my family and I need my friends, and something that I’ve also realized is, is that even though I’ve not ever felt that great about myself, that others need me and love me as well. I write with tears in my eyes because I feel as though I am waking up out of a deep sleep where the past, present and future were continually scrolling before my eyes yet it was all unattainable, like I couldn’t grasp any of it, stuck in limbo if you will. It’s like I had a distinct visibility of the endless possibilities, yet everything I knew was only an intangible dream. But here I am now, blessed with a new passion and I’ve got this body to accomplish my dreams that I’ve dreamt from my very beginnings. And what are those dreams? They are dreams of accomplishment, dreams of self freedom and true expression, and dreams of companionship, of simply not being alone. I don’t want to be stuck in an emotional fissure, but it is so difficult to say goodbye and let go to what I would consider my life even though it’s already said goodbye and let go of me. I toss in the nights haunted by my dreams sometimes and I wake up and pray. I ask for a place to stay when ghosts loom in my mind. I ask for angels to come and banish those demons that tear at my soul. Then I cry, “Why?!” Why do I feel these things? Is it my lot to suffer in this manner? To not only struggle with the trials of this mortal life but to tirelessly fend off those immortal beasts from the unseen world as well. One thing I know is that I will always pray, I will always have a prayer in my heart as I press forward seeking for those places of refuge as I go and fishing out those who are searching as well. I am a child of Heavenly Parents whom offer such grandness to me it is almost unfathomable. How could I ever doubt it? Maybe this is why I’ve struggled so, maybe it is this way so I will have that undeniable faith in the Gospel even though I struggle. I only hope that through my many weaknesses and great stupidity in action often, others might see what little light I have and will desire to be better. I have many desires but one that trumps most others is that I might be able to be a shining light somehow to those who might be lost or those who might be hurting and in need. I’d give my life for a friend in need; there would be no question in the matter. I’ve seen the tolls that this life can take on an individual very intimately and I’ve experienced many hardships myself and I’ve learned that there is not an ounce of justification in judging others critically. How could I ever desire to hurt someone else? We only damn ourselves when we criticize in a negative fashion, yet I do it all the time; I do it in ways that I don’t even realize very often until later pondering upon the ignitions of why I do and say those things in the first place. Mostly I think when I judge critically it is in those moments where I’ve felt some type of animosity toward an individual and when moments arise in actuality that animosity arises out of me in the form of slight underhanded comments and re-altered paths of word play. For the most part I can tell right away if the things that I’ve said or done in those moments of frustration affect the other person and I always feel really bad about it almost instantaneously. So why should I ever try to bring someone down by my actions? One thing that I’ve found to help me overcome this type of behavior is by simply doing something good for the person I have those negative feelings for, to simply give of myself for those people and to spend my thoughts on what they really do need, in the giving of my own self I gain myself back. There is an oddity in this parallel. The oddity is, is that there can be and are all the time seemingly contrary statements, or impossible options that are what is true and it in and of itself does not connote an ambiguous nothingness of indifference. To me it’s almost like it’s the exact opposite of limbo, true paradoxes, or the infinite circles of the universe that mirror externally our very own souls. I am fascinated by this world I live in and there are times when it is like a clear sky that opens through the clouds and nothing seems difficult to accomplish because it’s like I understand the depth of this place I live and I understand the rules so clearly and I see them vividly to the point I think I can fly up and ascend through that portal of blue skies, then as a feather flits to the ground my mind slowly becomes clouded with what I can only describe as a cloud or covering that blocks out this vastly untapped world of endless potential and then I only see the challenges and never ending mountains to ascend, yet I have the knowledge of what I’ve seen in those moments of true clarity from before. I simply have to act on faith that what I know I’ve seen is real and unchanging regardless of my fluctuating earthly vision. It’s so difficult though to act when all I see is Mount Everest even though I know I am deeper and higher then it will ever be. I sigh and write my poetry when I see my Mount Everest because it helps me keep that faith that it is not only possible but already ascended and deemed worthy and doable for a soul the likes of mine. I will press forward through this vast valley of frustration and strive to keep those moments where the clouds dissolve away in my heart even when I’m walking headlong through the storm. I will find a way and if there is no way then I will blaze my own trail and that shall be my path to my ultimate goal of never ending peace of mind and wholeness of spirit. I believe though that the path has already been blazon upon all facet of the mountain and there is no crevasse, no gully, no gap, no inch of the mountain that has not been trod before by Our Savior. My goal is to press forward regardless of car wrecks in my past, for when I shall make it to the top I’ll let my Savior help me work out those unsolvable troubles that I bear upon my chest in this world. I will cry into his arms and He will wipe away my tears and show me something that I could never have imagined before because I cannot see within all of the corridors of my mind that I’ve delve through to try and find a solution how my car wreck will ever be completely repaired in this life but with all of my heart and soul I know somehow that it can be because I know the Atonement is real, I know my Savior lives and I know all of this because I’ve prayed in the depths of my soul for understanding and I’ve seen marvelous things. To end I’ll say that I love the Gospel with all of my heart and I never will not.

Pirates!

Argh…! Ye matie! I see purple sails upon my seas and I shall not rest until I’ve sent that boat to the depths of Davie Jones locker! And happy New Year as well! Several things I’ve been inspired to write about, and not the usual serious lectures I inflict upon myself in my writes. Upon getting a bit tipsy off of sparkling cider I played one of the most epic games of Swash Buckle I’ve ever played through the transition to 2011 and that is saying something since I didn’t even win but it was incredible still the same. I’d go on to explain in vivid detail all of the epicness of the five and a half hour brutal charade of scouring the high seas for me treasured booty but I don’t know if any would continue to read after a short bit. Needless to say there were screams, tears, laughs, and “good games” all around at the end, and many a slain pirate as well. Yes, if you haven’t known this yet, I am a board game geek. I get extreme pleasure out of using devious means of stratagem within the bounds of the game to achieve my gameward purposes. But moving on now… as the night came to a close and the excitement of Swash Buckle wore off I paid a short visit to a close relation of mine. I asked in the still of the night seeming to confide a special glance of feeling and trust, “is it going to be a good year? I need something, just something to happen for me, I need to see that glimmer of renewed goodness on the horizon. I’m not apathetic but I’m close to it, I have a devote testimony of the gospel but I’ve struggled to find my blessings.” She looked back at me and said with almost a twinkle in her eye, “You are a glimmer of goodness,” and that was all that was needed, I felt greatly appreciated and honored almost. If you’ve ever felt just so good inside because of what someone else has done for you that moment was mine with those few simple words. I don’t even think she meant it to be profound but it was to my heart and I was grateful, grateful in a way I’ve rarely been grateful before. I hope and pray for a great year. Though I find myself in the halls of worry more often than not I love the moments when the walls break apart and I can see clearly all the paths around me that lead freely to incredible places of beauty and peace. My mind plays games with me and has severely hindered my abilities but I’ve seen far too many times my potential to simply give up on obtaining it even though I feel like giving up often and simply falling in with the ranks of the world. I hope to obtain a true grace one day, I live a somber life full of star gazing and car praying. I love the Gospel, I love its goodness and truth and I am, on levels that I can’t hardly describe deeply attracted to it. If nothing more shall ever come from my affinity to the Church than everything that I have written about it than I will be a happy soul because I know that what I have written is good and my testimony is special. There is only one thing that you need to know and that is, that the Church is true regardless of whatever trial God deems worthy of you, if you can continue to believe that, even when the clouds gather darkness and the jaws of Hell gape open after thee then I believe you’ll be set for life. The finest steel is only it, after it’s been heated and beaten to the highest degree, yet it remains what it is, and that is what it is and that is me.

Well, Happy New Years folks and O, by the way, check out theemptybookshelf.blogspot.com and read My Christmas Vision. Take care homies and until next time, love ya, bye.