The Danger of Swimming

That activity they call "swimming" - some say it's fun, but I say it's nonsense. It's really just a dangerous activity that has been placed upon a pedestal by "the fun people." Just think about what I'm saying. Please, just think about it. My intention is not to bring anyone over to my side of thinking. If it weren't for your opposition, I wouldn't be writing this - and I like to write. Rather, my intention is to provide an alternative perception toward the subject of swimming and explain why I think that it's strange.

You jump into a deep body of water. You could jump into the shallow end, but that's no fun. You just seem to hurt your ankles whenever you do that. Unless you flail your arms wildly and kick your legs with every working muscle, you will drown. What was once the inviting color of the water has now become your enemy; and you are fighting against its force! You realize that the water is your enemy because the water was never in favor of you. Yes, even the shallow water. Whenever you come out of a body of water, you are cold. It doesn't matter how quickly you retrieve your towel and wrap it around your body. That coldness is inevitable. Jumping into water is like jumping into a freaking large bowl of JELL-O. However, the water doesn't contain the thickness that JELL-O contains. Some people like challenges and danger. And maybe that's why some people like swimming?

Telling Me

That dream last night, it was uh, strange. An image of you was in the dream. I remember you telling me that it was a dream. That must have been the first time where I felt as though I knew it was a dream - and it was. Thanks for telling me.

Anthropomorphic God

Hey, I have a grand idea! Let us, the people, be the ones to build the character of God. This God shall be confined to our feelings. This God shall be confined to our emotions. This God shall be confined to our preferences. This God shall be confined to the limitations of the human mind. And God says "amen."

Choking, Words, the Heart

Yes, I choked! The consumption of necessities brought me to the point where I realized that I was consuming. Oh, if only I had choked for a more extensive period of time. If that had happened, maybe I would not have been involved in scenarios of vocab induced affliction. But truly, it is not the words which I spoke that I grieve over - at least, not the words in and of themselves. Words are simply arrangements of inanimate symbols. They are simply channels which greater forces work through. Words are audible pieces of the heart. My heart is the problem and my heart is choking. How is that for a glorified pleonasm?

The Invasion of Evil

If evil is invading, then darkness is being chosen over light. If evil is invading, then we are rejecting God's presence and welcoming his absence.

The Absence of Absolution

The outside is the closest thing I have to the other side right now. I have found that it is sometimes mirthful to take a walk in the park so I can take a step outside my mind. But the mirth which I find in that, or rather through that, is only temporary. So here I am, in a dark room, with an orange lava lamp and a more practical lamp powered on. Not sure why my blinds are closed when the sky is black - though there are enough street lights to burn through the pane.

I am rather appalled at myself for writing such blatant fiction. Her Blue Eyes is a less personal piece than I would normally write. It just sits on the page and looks rather lifeless. Not to say that my more personal writings evoke life, but to say that my individual existence evokes me to write. You know, I think I like feeling! It could very well be that I feel more than I think. My results from the Myers-Briggs personality test revealed that I am 1% more likely to act on feeling rather than thinking.

That last paragraph was rather void in terms of thought. No, it was not well written, it was not explained to the extent that it could have been. Let us just leave it though - it can not hurt us. It can not hurt us.

My head has been hurting today. My body is cold. But I did not physically injure my head today, and I am not naked. Absolution is absent on the earth.

She rarely writes to me, and the waiting seems arduous at times. Arduous is a word that is far too melodramatic to be used in this sense, but I cannot deny the clouds of impatience which weep over me. Gosh, I am so impatient. How long can I go without writing to her? Yes, I must wait.

Her Blue Eyes

She first awoke in green meadows. The skies and the seas were in her likeness with their scintillating colour of blue. Her eyes were blue, but she did not know whether or not they were the result of the skies and the seas. She did not really care to find the cause, but the thought kept on coming back to her. She only thought that her eyes were blue for she had never seen herself before. The musings of the wind told her all about herself, at least what she thought to be herself. She fell asleep whilst laying on the dead grass. Brown and unyielding and bitter.