Food for thought

I don't enjoy the idea of fate. It seems so defeatist.

Yes, you're probably going to meet a lot of people worth knowing in life, and I'll admit it's kind of humbling to think that safe of those relationships were meant to be. But what about all of the bad shit that gets thrown your way? Was it all meant to happen to you? Was there truly no way you or anyone else could have prevented it? Is there really only one person you can ever become? I don't like to think that way, and if somebody tries to use the idea to justify their bad choices - to duck responsibility - then that's even worse.

I prefer to think it's up to us to make good things happen, to meet people who matter. It's... maybe a little bleak to believe that we're not getting backup, but I think there's something freeing to it as well. It really is up to us.

A song for the weather

The heavy rain outside reminds me of this. Figured I'd share it.

Poetry Response #3

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
   That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
   A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
   And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
   Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
   Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
   In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
   In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
   Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

            This poem doesn’t spend much time trying to be more than what it is on the surface, and its simple origin – inspired by a walk Wordsworth and his sister went on around Glencoyne Bay in Ullswater – matches the simple nature of the poem. It’s about a person, a lone wanderer, who discovers a host of beautiful golden daffodils beside a lake during their wandering. They don’t fully realize the gift that this patch of daffodils has granted them, but later their thoughts flash back to the sight, which fills them with joy and continues to do so whenever they think about it from then on.

            I can identify with the narrator in that I too tend to become lonely and wander from time to time. This isn’t always a bad thing; I myself enjoy having private time when I want it, because it gives me time to think more freely about things I care about. The way the narrator mentions floating “on high o’er vales and hills” could imply that they view themselves as somewhat above everybody else – perhaps a bit of a cliché when it comes to poets. There are times when I feel the same way for some reason.

            In the final stanza, the narrator notes that when they feel pensive, they think back on the crowd of daffodils and their heart fills with pleasure once more. I’m the same way here as well; I’m fond of retreating into my mind and daydreaming when I’m bored or distressed. It cheers me up a little bit, just like thinking of the dancing daffodils does for Wordsworth. 

Poetry Response #2

Little Orphant Annie

By James Whitcomb Riley

"Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay,
An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep,
An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep;
An’ all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun
A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ‘at Annie tells about,
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
Onc’t they was a little boy wouldn’t say his prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An’ when they turn’t the kivvers down, he wasn’t there at all!
An’ they seeked him in the rafter-room, an’ cubby-hole, an’ press,
An’ seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an’ ever’wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout--
An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An’ one time a little girl ‘ud allus laugh an’ grin,
An’ make fun of ever’one, an’ all her blood an’ kin;
An’ onc’t, when they was “company," an’ ole folks was there,
She mocked ‘em an’ shocked ‘em, an’ said she didn’t care!
An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side,
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ‘fore she knowed what she’s about!
An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An’ little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue,
An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo!
An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray,
An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parents, an’ yer teachers fond an’ dear,
An’ churish them ‘at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear,
An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ‘at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns’ll git you
             Ef you
                Don’t
                   Watch
                      Out!"

            I first heard this poem in, I think, third or fourth grade; my class did a unit of study on James Whitcomb Riley and his poems, cultimating in a field trip to his old home in Greenfield. As a result, I remembered this poem pretty well when we read it in class, and hearing it again brought back a lot of memories. It still means pretty much the same thing it meant to me back in elementary school, although I understand the first stanza a little better now; I think back then I wasn’t sure if the goblins came for Annie, but now I know that was just part of her story. 

            The aspect of the poem that I notice first upon reading it is the dialect. A little research has told me that this dialect is apparently nineteenth-century Hoosier dialect, which would fit in with the time and place where it was composed. It gives the poem a very antiquated and rustic feel, which in turn makes it sound more authentic. Combined with other elements such as the meter and the emphasized refrain ending each stanza, this makes the poem quite fun to read aloud. 

            Also, I think the poem lends itself well to the imagination. The descriptions of the
house in the first stanza and the night in the final stanza feel old and homey, and conjure an image of an old house from the nineteenth century – perhaps Riley’s house itself. In the second and third stanzas, the “Gobble-uns” are left purposefully undescribed outside of being “great big Black Things” that can take you away from anywhere without a trace, which allows for a much more frightening image than an actual description could provide. When I was young I remember getting a chill in my spine when I read it, and these days it still makes me grin. 

Poetry Response #1

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

By Dylan Thomas

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

            This is a poem of passion. It’s not hard at all to see that; the title itself is a call to not lay down and accept the bitter certainty of death. Instead, Thomas calls for those nearing their end to “burn and rave at close of day,” to let their flickering souls flare and repel the darkness threatening to retake them. Even in this first stanza, there’s an underlying current of anger that shines through in the word choice – rave at close of day, rage against the dying of the light.

            Throughout the poem, I notice the imagery of light being invoked repeatedly. Burning and raving in old age, words that fork lightning, singing the sun in flight, and eyes blazing like meteors. In every case, this imagery is applied to the dying – it’s they who burn and rave and sing, their words that fork lightning and their eyes like meteors. Moreover, all of these instances of imagery invoke a similar feeling of anger and injustice toward the encroaching night. Light and anger come together to create an image of a flame that drives the darkness back.

            The last stanza, specifically the first two lines, confused me a little bit. The usage of the term father left me wondering if the speaker was referring to their actual father, or to the Lord who bears that title. I believe it refers to their actual father, because the speaker seems to be instructing them to rage against their coming death (which wouldn’t make sense if they were speaking to God). Even here, the feeling of anger is evident, as the speaker tells their father to shed fierce tears from their sad height, to rage as so many good and wise men do. 

Seeing a Distinguished Speaker

About an hour ago I went to this event on campus: Seeking Bipartisanship, a lecture by Ray Lahood, former U.S. Secretary of Transportation. It wasn't very long, and it was kind of interesting. LaHood talked about how a lot of times things happen despite partisanship because there are people who want to get things done and will do what it takes to make that happen. He spoke a little about how there's a lot of voter unrest because Congress doesn't seem to have that attitude these days - that's why so many people are voting for Trump.

Now, I don't intend to support Trump come Election Day - not with all the violence and hatred he incites - but I can kind of understand now why people admire his drive. He says he'll get things done, and people appreciate that. I figure I can respect that without liking the rest of him.

Did any of you guys go? What did you think?

Springtime: RISING

It's a really nice day out there, isn't it?

I don't really have much else to say, just figured I'd bring that to attention. I think it's safe to say that shorts and t-shirts season has begun (*knocks on wood*).

I was out for a walk earlier today, and I heard music coming from the football stadium; maybe the marching band was practicing? It reminded me of the summer I spent in my high school's marching band. It was... well, it was a commitment. We went nine-to-five some days, no lie, but it was pretty fun. We got to travel to other high schools to compete, and saw a bunch of other marching bands in the process. Some of them were really good.

The next year, I decided not to go back to marching band. Too much work for me. I started volunteering at the library instead, and that was more my speed. I got some nice memories of performing, though, I guess I can't say it was all bad.

Concept Corner #12

Concept Corner #12 - Canyon Steps
A surreal series about a chronically ill young man and his older caretaker of a sister, travelers on a cross-country journey to see famous places all across America. Wherever they go, nightmares seem to follow, some of which are far closer than either of them realize...

So I was pretty heavily inspired by Night Vale and Alice Isn't Dead in the premise of this story. Might make a nice series for younger readers.

Wisdom from The Voice of Night Vale

"Before everything, before even humans, there were stories. A creature at a fire conjuring a world with nothing but its voice and a listener’s imagination. And now, me, and thousands like me, in little booths and rooms and mics and screens all over the world, doing the same for a family of listeners, connected as all families are, primarily by the stories we tell each other.

And after, after fire, and death, or whatever happens next, after the wiping clean or the gradual decay, after the after…when there are only a few creatures left, there will be one at a fire, telling a story to what family it has left. It was the first thing, and it will be the last."

-Cecil Palmer, Welcome to Night Vale, Episode 71 - "The Registry of Middle School Crushes"

I was listening to one of my podcasts today, and this quote popped up at the end of one of the episodes. Honestly, I couldn't not post it here - it's perfect for Creative Writing class.

Concept Corner #11

Concept Corner #11 - Omnichrome
Mute City is a city of blacks, whites, and the shades of gray in between - in the most literal manner you could imagine. There is no color in Mute City outside of the gray-scale that covers all things and people, and with that monochrome comes a monochrome existence as well. People go to work in droves and do their jobs without passion, without a spark inside. They come home, go to sleep, and awaken the next day to begin again the monotony. No one knows any other way of life. 

But there have been reports of a mysterious figure in Mute City; a being with qualities no citizen can name, abilities they cannot replicate, colors beyond black, white, and gray. And the people who come into contact with this being change, both externally and internally, beyond their uniformity. Slowly, they gain color, and their once-dull eyes begin to glow with a new light. And they desire to find others like them, changing other people along the way by giving them a piece of what they themselves have received. 

And, like a gentle breeze eroding a mountain, their world begins to change with them.

A life in cards

Here's another creative fiction piece I wrote for my class - the second one required. It's a little unconventional, but hopefully that's a good thing. Also, because I'm sure people will ask, this is not autobiographical. It could definitely be taken that way, but this is not my life story. OK?

0: The Fool – beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit

The man begins life as a young boy, free of the world’s darker influences. The world rests before him, to be taken one day when he has grown. He decides his future with childlike impunity.

I: The Magician – power, skill, concentration, action, resourcefulness

            The boy goes to school to learn about the world around him. The knowledge he gains of math and science and history will one day serve him well. He is still young, however, and he is only beginning to learn how to change the world around him.

II: The High Priestess – intuition, mystery, higher powers, subconscious mind

            Obstacles and outside influences send the boy into a contemplative state as darkness begins to intrude upon his life, through himself as well as others. He continues to learn both in school and on his own time, developing interests and values to call his own.

III: The Empress – fertility, femininity, beauty, nature, abundance

            Through good times and bad, the boy’s mother is always there for him. She cares for him when he is sick, and shares in his pain when it becomes too much for him. Through her, the boy learns to care for others and to be cared for in return.

IV: The Emperor – authority, father-figure, structure, solid foundation

            The boy seeks to mirror his father, to become his equal. His father teaches him discipline, to separate right from wrong and choose accordingly. The boy comes to understand the importance of a leader, although the burden of such a task still escapes him.

V: The Hierophant – religion, group identification, conformity, tradition, beliefs

            As the boy grows, his interests draw him toward similar people, and he begins to make friends. The boy cares for his friends and strives to be well-liked by them. He also grows closer to his family; aunts, uncles, and cousins whom he hadn’t given much significance before grow more prominent in his eyes.

VI: The Lovers – love, union, relationships, values alignment, choices

            In middle school, the boy – not quite a young man but nearing it – undergoes a change as his feelings toward certain people begin to deepen beyond mere friendship. This frightens him, but through encouragement from family and friends he chooses to pursue these feelings, despite the struggle. His mind, though still youthful, has begun to deepen.

VII: The Chariot – control, will power, victory, assertion, determination

            Many things are going well for the boy. He is learning much and performing well, in school and in life. Many of his schoolmates know who he is. He is content, and he hopes that this part of his life will last a long time.

VIII: Strength – strength, courage, patience, control, compassion

            As high school begins, some of the people for whom the boy has special feelings begin to notice him – perhaps in time they could develop feelings of their own toward him. Despite his uncertainty, he feels a wellspring of hope form within himself. He may be inexperienced in romance, but he feels that this is something worth pursuing.

IX: The Hermit – soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance

            The boy’s feelings pull him toward each of his special ones, but which one should he choose? Those close to the boy lend him their support, but ultimately he must lean on himself in his time of indecision. He ponders on his problem for a long time, seeking a solution that will satisfy himself.

X: The Wheel of Fortune – good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point

            Having made his decision, the boy confesses his feelings toward one of his special ones… and receives reciprocation. He enters a new phase in his life, anxious but also eager. With this change, the young man feels older and more mature than ever before.

XI: Justice – justice, fairness, truth, cause and effect, law

            The young man and his other continue their courtship to mutual satisfaction. Obstacles come into view – opportunities for unfaithfulness – but he remains faithful.

XII: The Hanged Man – suspension, restriction, letting go, sacrifice

            As graduation nears, a parting rears its ugly head. A disagreement concerning college and future plans turns into a conflict between the young man and his other. Emotions run high, and words are spoken that prove unretractable. The young man and his other find themselves at a loss for their next step.

XIII: Death – endings, beginnings, change, transformation

Although tears are shed and caring is acknowledged, the young man and his other part ways. The man goes off to college to pursue his dreams, hoping that distance will help in breaking the shackles binding him to his past misfortunes.

XIV: Temperance – Balance, moderation, patience, purpose, meaning

            Slowly, the wounds of the past scar over, and the man forges new bonds and finds new meaning in the place that he has chosen. Life, for the moment, has reached another peak.

XV: The Devil – bondage, addiction, sexuality, materialism

            The man faces temptation in the form of another. He remains stalwart in the beginning, but as time wears on his resolve weakens, and ultimately he surrenders to their advances.

XVI: The Tower – disaster, upheaval, sudden change, revelation

            When the man’s new other proves to be not what they seem, the man is left overwhelmed and rudderless. He realizes that he had placed far more into their relationship than the other, and with all of it gone the man isn’t sure what to believe in anymore. He falls into a depression.

XVII: The Star – hope, spirituality, renewal, inspiration, serenity

            The man’s downward spiral continues until the end of the year. As he returns home for the summer, family and old friends reach out to him, to lend him their hands and hearts. He rejects them, but as time wears on their words slowly reach him. Hope is rekindled in his heart.

XVIII: The Moon – illusion, fear, anxiety, insecurity

            As the man recovers from his previous state, he becomes aware of his behavior for the past months and is repentant. He fears retribution from those he loves for how he treated them, and without meaning to pulls away from them once more.

XIX: The Sun – fun, warmth, success, positivity, vitality

            At last, the man realizes and receives the forgiveness of his loved ones – including his first special one. Regretting his recent foolish decisions, the man makes things right with the ones he loves, and the future shines brighter for him than it has in a long time.

XX: Judgement – judgement, rebirth, inner calling, absolution

            Now in his right mind once again, the man seeks a future that belongs to him. After some searching, his reignited passions light a path to a future that he feels is right for him. He creates a new plan toward that light.

XXI: The World – completion, integration, accomplishment, travel

            With his new course through life plotted, the man sets out toward a future brighter than ever before. Although he has experienced much pain, he chooses not to forget that pain, but to keep it for when he needs a reminder – a warning against a darker fate. He knows not what surprises life will have for him in the coming years, or even the coming weeks, but the knowledge that he has yet stayed the course grants him determination, and he walks with head held high and hope ablaze in his heart. 

Breakneck Hamlet

So I just got back from an event at Trine - "Breakneck Hamlet" by Tim Mooney. We've talked about it in Creative Writing class some; it's the entire play Hamlet, performed in about an hour's worth of time.

I say performed - it was more like summarized. I'll admit I went in expecting something a little different than what I got. I expected him to actually perform the entire play, speaking the lines and all (which now that I think about it would be a bit much for one person). Don't get me wrong, I didn't dislike it. It was a wonderful way to spend an hour on a Monday evening. It just wasn't exactly what I'd anticipated. I probably would have liked it more if I hadn't actually read Hamlet and didn't know the story ahead of time.

I saw Neriman and Mrs. Homan there. Some of the other writers from my class might have been present as well, somewhere in the auditorium. What did all of you who went think?

Concept Corner #10

This Concept Corner is going to be a little different from the others. I don't have a story idea - not a concrete one - but I do have an idea for a magic system. As I've stated before, I'm a big fan of Brandon Sanderson, and the magic systems that he creates are often bound to rules and created with flaws and limitations to make them seem more real (for example, Allomancy requires metal to burn, the amount of metal you have determines how much power you can throw around, and most people can only burn one metal). Inspired by this, I came up with a magic system of my own.

Concept Corner #10 - Spheres and Chakras
In the setting of this particular story - I imagine it taking place in a world inspired by feudal Asia, predominantly China - people can use the energy from their chakras for a variety of different effects. Chakra energy is drawn from the body using small metal spheres resembling Baoding balls - small metal balls spun in the palm of the hand for exercise and meditation. There are a number of different types of spheres, but they can be divided into two major categories: directory and inert. 

Directory spheres are constructed out of a relatively fragile metal and decorated with certain patterns using a special type of paint. The color on the sphere determines the chakra drawn from, while the pattern determines the exact effect. Inert spheres have no such patterns, and are constructed from a much more durable metal. Spinning spheres involves at least one of each type of sphere - otherwise you will receive no effect. 

Spheres are spun by holding them in the palm of the hand and rotating them around each other. At this time, the directory spheres draw energy from the body's chakras, which is then drawn into the inert sphere. The inert sphere can then be used in many ways: a throwing weapon, a healing device, and a means of predicting the future are only a few possibilities. This process is tiring on the body, due to draining energy directly from it, but training can be undergone to strengthen the chakra and therefore the body; this also allows for even more energy to be used, strengthening the effects further. 

I have a vague idea for the setting of this story - something feudal Asia-based, like I said, perhaps with some Buddhist elements. I imagine different families would have access to different patterns - which must be drawn painstakingly for them to work - and that different castes of people would be trained in different uses of the art. Outside of that, I'm still putting it together. I'm not huge on writing political stories (I don't have the mind for it), so this wouldn't be coming for a long time. Someday, hopefully.

Primum non nocere

A few days ago I spoke with my counselor again, and the subject of meeting new people came up. It's been a recurring topic in our sessions, albeit one that doesn't bear much fruit. For all of Trine's perks and accolades, it has very few clubs that interest me enough to make me join them. Thus, meeting people has been difficult for me for a while now, even discounting my Asperger's and natural introversion.

I told him - and I really do believe this - that I'm focusing more on preserving my existing relationships than I am on creating new ones. As I may have mentioned before, next semester I'm transferring to another college: IUPUI in Indianapolis. It's larger, more urban, and closer to home, and a lot of people I already know go there. Keeping those present relationships alive ensures that I have a starting place for when I arrive there and perhaps come across those people I know.

That said, I do value the friendships I've made over this past year. My fellows students in the Creative Writing class have been a joy to get to know, both in person and through their writings, and I've become pretty close to a guy in my Bible study group - Jacob Haller, a senior in ME.

But this year is almost over (where does the time go?) and to be honest I'm pretty okay with where I am now in terms of relationships. Besides, Jacob's graduating at the end of this year and while I hope to keep in touch, his job in Ohio will make getting together a challenge. I'm okay, for now, with being more dormant than usual in meeting new people. I'm sure I'll have plenty of opportunity down at IUPUI for that.

Hopefully I can make some of those "lifelong friends" that everybody talks about in those college informational videos.