Rant.

What's the fucking point of internet? This other world I type in right now, WHY? We have turned it into something horrible. It's a data base full of dumb-ass people, surrogating themselves from reality. You can be whoever, whenever, and however. Whatever. It PISSES ME OFF. Your relationship to me cannot be defined by our Facebook contact. You will be only a Facebook person unless you otherwise select. And you? Who are you? No, really. Answer how you will but mean what you say. YOUR IDENTITY CANNOT BE DEFINED BY WHAT THE INTERNET SAYS YOU ARE. You are not Jennifer Anniston, or some famous rock-star. Are you really so attention-starved that your pictures make you who you are? Internet dating is SHIT. Plaster yourself and call it you, I don't BELIEVE this is what we have turned into. I WISH IT DIDN'T EXIST.

You pulled up your 1991 Buick in the nearest lot, walked around, let me out. We walked through the darkened woods behind your abode, afraid of the smallest slithering amphibians. We stopped to admire the smallest crevice and the wavering jasmine. Our steps were delicate, our breath silent. We approached our destination, a grass covered man-made obstruction. It beautifully beheld its radiance, its abandonment by the creator. We walked to about midpoint and stooped over the water flowing below. You put your arm around my back and pulled me in. It was cold, to say the least. The kind of cold at night that transcends winter and still not quite spring. We connected unlike any I have felt previously. We took hands and kissed with meta-physical love.


Okay, that was mushy and kind of lame, but it's been 2.5 years since this happened, and he brought me flowers "because you're sick" so I thought he deserved something.

" Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me Man, did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?" - Milton

So lately I have been pondering the theoretical idea of what I like to call Micro-Universe Theory (because I thought of this on my own, but it is actually associated with "Raëlian Cosmology"). This theory states that there are small, in comparison to what we know, universes inside every atom. Inversely, it states that we are part of a galaxy that is part of a universe that is part of a large atom. It's quite interesting to think about... Makes you feel that much more insignificant. I do not know enough about the behavior of atoms, but what I have learned shows me that this theory is a possibility. And, yeah, I know what you're thinking. Atoms cannot be divisible. That is why they are called that, tomós   - divided. Therefor, not divided. We have since then discovered many parts of the atomic spectra which contradicts this. For example, the electrons around the nucleus that appear to behave in terms of probabilities. These electrons are constantly moving and transferring. Inside these known particles contain many others. The smallest we know of are called quarks and leptons (which I know next to nothing about, but I digress). What I am trying to say is we have continually, through time, believed something scientific for a very long time. We have persecuted people for questioning these "facts" to the point of death. We hold so strongly our beliefs in god that we lose sight of true perception. So who is going to say we aren't doing the very same thing now? I propose the Micro-Universe Theory and support it's idea in hopes to open your mind, to think theoretically no matter (ha) how ridiculous it may seem due to what is "known". But remember, truth is attributed to human perception, not total reality. In the words of Lydia from Beetle Juice, "Live people ignore the strange and unusual."

(And as one big side note, my Physics teacher has an Einstein quote on his wall that reads "The most incomprehensible thing about this universe is that it is comprehensible." I disagree strongly with this, in that I think it should read "The most comprehensible thing about this universe is that it is incomprehensible.")

Li's Garden

We talked about life and liberty
children, ages, culture.
She showed me to say hello
and Chinese alphabet.

The symbols all collected, pooled
like some mad calligraphic pond
trickled with bamboo water sprouts.
The air reverberated, pentatonic scales
and Pipa notation.

Green paper lanterns hung,
strung with seedless cords, abound,
their soft glow illuminated
the Hunan she presented.

To Whom Plagues My Memories...

She speaks in fragments tenderly before bed.
She's rendered by hate, sought after by planetary wishes.
The fulfillment of her mind seeks no sympathy,
she's immortalized by beliefs.
Lady of egotism, child of anonymous figures...

May you never relent at the eye of another.

On Myself

I am now, but Me,
an intricate sea foam washed up,
the leaves and grass, infinite knowledge.
I am Me. I see
with burdened eyes
everything towering,
all below.
Bellowing out in a plain space,
empty hallow to recall.
I am the flightiness act of swallow
with abundant feathers to sore.
Washing over the pebbles of life.
I, the insect in this cocoon,
am stretching my wings,
will someday soon leave this abode.
Swimming softly through the stream,
gliding gently above the guavas,
growing up for all to see.
Yet I still remain Me.