Simply, "Thanks"

I know that they don't read this. But I just wanted to say to my mom and dad simply,
"thanks."
I finally had my talk with my parents, so I think that we'll finally be back with what we had before. I love them. And I never stopped. And I never thought for a moment that THEY stopped loving ME. I just wasn't sure how much. And though it wasn't brought up in the way I wanted it to be, I have closure on the issue, and that's the more important thing. They're awesome. If you don't know my parents, you really should. Quentin and Wallace are amazing human beings... I mean look at who they raised (haha). So I suppose I'll try to compose a quick something in their honor, and then my mama's gonna tuck me in for the first time in too long. God, there's nothing better than that.

You loved me without knowing me,
And prayed that I would come,
And while the angel talked with me
You nursed me in your womb.
Then I was born and knew at last
What all you had to give,
Though you had known it all along
Before I yet could live

You guys, I realized that whether you're aware of it or not, this life can never make you fully happy. I'll try my best to not let that knowledge KEEP me from being happy. I promise. Things are finally getting better. Thanks to everyone who's been waiting patiently. Goodnight.

So sayeth The Brad...

Insight #3

They say that my Archangel counterpart speaks to babies while still in the womb. There he imparts the knowledge that the baby will, in due time, need. Well, you're all in a womb of delusion, and it's about time that I slapped you upside the head with some truth. This is profound insight #3. I have declared it to be so, and so it shall be.

There aren't more important types of pain, just different doses.

I suppose I should start this off by saying "so much for this next entry being happier than my previous ones." But then I would say to myself "Hey, self, it's not like this is a SAD one, so that's a plus." Very true. I'm such a smart guy. Anyway, this insight comes naturally, I suppose. A great deal of literature has been written on the subject of pain: philosophers, theologians, poets, many of these and more use this as a constant topic. I write this insight, though, not because of some overwhelming pain in my own life. Nor do I write it in response to the plight of the oppressed in other parts of the world. Screw them (I jest). However, the RELATIONSHIP of these two seemingly polar opposites is what spawned this stream of consciousness. It's a commonly used phrase in our country that there are always "children starving in China" or "people dying in Africa". Okay, for one, you've pissed me off already. That's marginalizing the problems that these people have when we reduce their lives and situations to mere turn of phrase. Are we so self-involved as a culture that we only think about their plight when we want to have something of value to interject into our own conversations? That's pretty crappy. If you do that, stop it right now. It's not a good idea, and it could be very insulting (when I get my own Chinese child, I'll let you know if it is or not). Okay, now we can move on to focus on what those horrible phrases are usually aimed towards. I don't think I've ever heard them, unless they're being preceded by another person venting on pain and frustration (usually of the daily variety). Now I agree, as everyone else will, that some people MANUFACTURE their pain and therefore have no right to bitch. It's true that when someone is CONSTANTLY making a big deal out of their daily pain, it is probably either a call for attention or a sign that this person believes that the world revolves around them. You can smack those people in the face if you want to. Give them some "real" pain. But when a friend is just telling you that he or she had a crappy day, don't write them off and compare their bad day to those others around the world. Because PAIN is PAIN. There are no two ways about it. It's the same monster, just different sizes. And the reason that pain is pain comes from the fact that sin is sin (if you're not religious, substitute wrongdoing for sin). Pain is in the world as a direct byproduct of sin. It's not that hard. And because of that, pain isn't different, just the sizes it comes in. Me feeling lonely is the same kind of pain as someone whose family was just slaughtered. Now most would say "hey, that other person's problem is much worse than yours." No, because that's like saying that the essence of his pain is different from mine. They have the SAME core, essence, origin, what-have-you. However, the man with no family obviously has a great deal more being pumped into his life than I do at this time. Don't assume that my problem disappears in the light of the other. It doesn't. When you assume that, then you offer no solution and only allow my problem to stagnate and draw even more pain. And as for the Africa comparison, I think that many times people just incorrectly infer that because of the huge problem of, say, AIDS that those people are consumed by that and nothing else. In fact, they are human beings, and they have lives in which they love, get pissed, piss off others. When you don't take that into consideration, you use false compassion as a disguise to downgrade them as people. Even a man dying from AIDS can still be hurt by being called a name. A starving woman can still feel the sting when her equally starving lover leaves her. I very much think that pain works in some small way like smell. Our pain sniffer can only take so much of an extreme amount until it overloads and the particular problem simply ceases to bother. Like when you first go into a severely, perpetually stinky room, and then eventually get used to it (olfactory overload, my smelly friends). And when a whole continent is infected with a debilitating, terminal illness - when it is BAKED into the culture - I think it works the same way. We just can't see that because that's not a part of our culture, at least now. Perhaps someday it will be. And if it is, we'll get through it. Because pain can be overcome, and I mean ANY amount of pain. You just have to want it bad enough. So I sincerely hope that everyone can just stop EVALUATING everyone else's pain and simply start trying to EASE it. Lesson we learned today: Gabriel doesn't lie (but hopefully you knew that one already). Second lesson: pain doesn't discriminate, so we shouldn't discriminate the pain of others. Now go take it easy... Oh, and bake something. That sounds like a productive idea.

Honesty

Bunny?
Yes, Nny?
I'm not happy...
So my last post actually got comments, which lends me to believe that people actually read this for some reason. And, since that's the case, and I love, appreciate and trust the people that are my friends (and I assume that's who these comments are coming from) I want to be very serious with this entry. No stupid one-liners, or cleverness. Just sheer honesty. Hopefully this will be a good practice of the advice I gave in Insight #2. And, by the way, this was all brought on by something a friend said in his comment to that last post: "That's what you need your blog for. To vent." Well, I'm taking a shot, so here goes.
Sadly my whole apathy movement didn't even last a week. It's sad, really, cause it's a good idea in theory. But I have to concede to Shaun, my best of bests; you called it buddy. You called it completely. I couldn't keep it up any longer. I'm too much of a feeling creature: all of us Barnes men are. I might try the apathy thing again, later, but I don't know that it'll work any better. The thing that made me lose it today was sitting alone, and for the first time I really let myself be aware of how lonely I'm actually feeling. And I have to tell you, it's pretty alone. I constantly feel more and more distant from my family. I don't feel like they even want to make the effort to stay in contact. People are growing up and moving on with other friends, and I'm left with calling them every so often to get a quick hi. And I'm out of school, so I can't even feel like a normal college kid anymore. I've always been good at meeting new people, making new friends, and I still love doing that. I cherish the friendships that I have more than anything in the world. But they're not helping with the loneliness. And I don't know why. And I'm sorry to say that, but they're just not helping any more. I looked inside myself today and became aware of how truly grieved my spirit is. Something's missing. To quote a graphic novel I like very much, "I wish someone would just shut me off and fix me". I don't know how. I'm so lucky, and so blessed, and I don't feel like I've been forsaken by God or loved ones. But I think it's the fact that I no longer feel part of this world. I tire of it. Actually, I'm a little comforted in the fact that I think that this is how I should feel. My place in this world is temporary, ephemeral, and I was destined for an eternity in God's presence. So of course I feel out of place. I'm not at home. The closest I come to home is when I'm surrounded by people and just soaking up their love (which I really see as divine love kinda reflected off of them). That having been said, I wonder if I need to be by myself more often. Perhaps I need to start taking solace in myself. I had a good chat with myself in the mirror tonight, and though it was a bit weird at first, it was a bit of a relief. There's only so much internal monologue you can have. I needed an external dialogue. But regardless, I think I'm a cool cat, and I can enjoy being by myself, so perhaps that's what I need to do more often. Hole myself up in my Tower, and then discover that I was the Tower all along. Wow. Thanks anyone for listening. I feel a whole lot better now. I think I'm going to go to sleep. And don't worry too much about me, I think that this epiphany was just enough to get me to start writing happier stuff. Although, P.S., I really liked writing my flower song today. It's not the most upbeat sounding thing, but I put alot of soul into that little observation that I made in the courtyard, and in the end it felt good to slap that much of myself down on the page... or the keyboard... or whatever. Anyway, check out that song if you wanna see what I mean. Read my whole blog again for all I care. I need to go to bed. Thanks for listening, you three people who read this thing. I love you AS WELL AS all my other friends and family who are not so web-literate... Good night.

Get This Off My Chest

I am so sick of good girls being taken by guys that don't deserve them. I'm sick of these guys that warp these girls into actually BELIEVING that they're someone they want to be with. I want to cry when these dicks break up with them, but the girls can't move on because they still feel like those jerks are everything they ever wanted. If anyone actually reads this, and you are one of these girls, let me give you a list of pre-approved guys:

Me
Kratzer
Jason M.
Josh S.
Evan "Raging Bull"
Prince
Nate

I hope this at least gets people thinking. Now I'm done, because this has been far too many entries for one week, and this particular one has gone on longer than it should have.

My Own Flowery Song

It's cold, becoming warmer
And bright but getting bland
A million things I can observe:
This tiny rose that's in my hand.
It's beautiful and brilliant,
But broken at the stem
And that's the one small evil
That I just can't make right again.

The petals twirling round it
The face that hides within
And to behold it's sweet visage
I broke it on a whim
So now its light is fading
And Chloris cannot save
For what I so appreciate,
I dug an early grave.

I tried to save you, little rose,
But you were far from gone
And while I wasn't ready
Your time with me was done
I cried and cried, and yet my tears
Weren't water that you need
When you were beauty on the bush
I pulled you like a weed

With eyes akin to Buddha I'll observe it's every side
With fingers like DaVinci I will paint it into life
With words as good as Dryden's, I can make it into prose
But without the hands of God, I've still killed you, little rose.

I'm sorry for my failings.
I'm sorry I'm not you.
And sorry I couldn't love you till I'd
Broken you in two.

So sayeth The Brad...

Insight #2

They say that my Archangel counterpart speaks to babies while still in the womb. There he imparts the knowledge that the baby will, in due time, need. Well, you're all in a womb of delusion, and it's about time that I slapped you upside the head with some truth. This is profound insight #2. I have declared it to be so, and so it shall be.

EVERYBODY gets sad, EVERYBODY gets angry... deal with it.

We know that everybody lies. We know that everybody breathes air. We even know that Everybody Poops (which is an awesome book by the way). But somewhere along the line, we forgot that everybody has anger; everyone succumbs to sadness. And not only does everyone HAVE these two, but we in fact need them to survive. I write this insight, mostly in response to a critique of my blogger, by a friend who will remain nameless. Not that I really need to do that, though, since I suspect he MIGHT be the only person who reads this thing. Anywho, this person, hereby called X, was looking at my blogger over my shoulder one night, and remarked "man, anyone who read some of these entries would think that you get pretty angry or were really depressed." Oh gee, really? I never thought that at all! The unfortunate - but absolutely true - fact of life is that these two emotions exists for a reason. Anger is an outlet. Sadness is an outlet. It's simple physics (or something like that): a limited vessel, or space, can only stand the introduction of so much of a given material. After the time that it reaches its
storage limit, it's gotta start to release some of the material, or it will break/explode. It's like when your email account has enough messages in it and that little bar is in the red: you need to get rid of some emails, or your account will explode. Ok, maybe not explode, but they'll take that sucker away from you (and how will little Billy ever survive without stupidinsidejoke@yahoo.com?) . It doesn't matter how you do it; you can delete them, send them somewhere, save them somewhere. But the fact of the matter is that they can't be kept WHERE THEY ARE anymore. In the case of a person, any kind of emotion get stored up over a matter of time. Only two are really hard for some people to release: sadness and anger. Happiness is an easy one; people spend happiness like no one's business. But sadness? Anger? A bit harder to deal with. First offender: SADNESS. The problem with this one is that it has become socially unacceptable among certain types of people to show sadness. It is viewed as a sign of weakness or, more realistically, a sign that in fact the given person is NOT the god of the universe, in total control of every aspect of their life. Why else do you think that very macho guys (or militant lesbians) have a really hard time crying? I don't understand what the problem is. I cry when I need to, and I'm better for it. To all those people that can't or, even worse, WON'T let it out, I think it's all a matter of time. They're just deluding themselves temporarily, which will end up causing them a whole NEW world of pain when the floodgates finally burst. So if you're out there, and you fall into that category, do yourself a favor: watch someone's grandparent die from a painful terminal illness, or squash a kitten, or do something so horrible that the consequences leave you with nothing left to do but cry like a little prepubescent girl (unless you already ARE one of those, in which case just cry like yourself). NEXT! Anger. The big problem with this one is that anger IS expressed already in very poor ways, and those are the ones that get all the press. Everytime some schizo guy whacks his three daughters, or rapes a donkey, or bombs a bus station... the media JUMPS ALL OVER IT. And so everyone has this bad taste in their mouths about anger. They look at these horrible oil spots on society's driveways, and they say to themselves "Crikey, I don't ever wanna be as angry as those blokes!" (because apparently everyone's Australian). Anger is viewed as something taboo, and in the cases of, uh, THE UNABOMBER it's not too good. But in small doses it is necessary. Otherwise it builds up and builds up, and then you become one of those schizo dudes who develope some craziness and beat a schoolgirl to death with a sack full of dead puppies. So next time you see those guys on the news, don't say "crikey": instead let it serve as a reminder to let off some steam once in a while. In fact, when you see murderers and rapists, fly off the handle and the next thing that pisses you off, even a little. Hell, fly competely off the handle at your TV screen; when we get good and mad at the evil people in this world, it's called a RIGHTEOUS anger. So just let loose, buddies and buddettes. Trust me, it'll help in the long run. So there's my insight. But hey, to address my friend who made the stupid comment: just because I'm chipper and happy and upbeat and psychotic most of the time, that doesn't mean that I forfeit MY RIGHT to be down or angry sometime. I'm still human. Just because I wasn't happy for a LITTLE bit, don't make a big deal out of it. If you do, it shows an underlying insecurity that, in some small way, you are basing your happiness in how chipper OTHER people are. Oh, and in closing, I still suggest you take a read of those "Mune Lite" lyrics... if you banish feelings, then maybe you won't HAVE to get sad or angry. Of course you won't be happy either, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. It'd just give you more to miss when you're feeling sad and lonely.

Apathy: I'm not just the spokesman, I'm a practicing member.

Insight #1

They say that my Archangel counterpart speaks to babies while still in the womb. There he imparts the knowledge that the baby will, in due time, need. Well, you're all in a womb of delusion, and it's about time that I slapped you upside the head with some truth. This is profound insight #1. I have declared it to be so, and so it shall be.

No one knows what they want.

There, I said it. Absolutely no one. You think you know what you want? You're wrong. Thanks, but you'll have to try the game some other time because you just lost it you sorry sap. That is, I believe, society's NUMBER ONE delusion. Everyone just ASSUMES that at SOME level they know what they want. Gabriel is here to gently... ah, screw that... VEHEMENTLY inform all of you that, in fact, we are humans and it is at our very nature, our core, our essence, our chewy caramel center to NOT KNOW WHAT WE WANT! Good lord, we hardly know what we NEED half the time. It's taxing enough on some people to have to remember: Okay, breathe in, breathe out, eat food, sleep often, left foot, right foot... We are flawed. That's not really a bad thing either. It's just something that we have to suck up and accept. We're wired that way. I'll give you examples. Man and woman, sitting in paradise. They get to be naked, all day long. They get to hang out with a bunch of animals that we only see in zoos nowadays. They got to have free reign of the place. They got to converse with the Almighty, one on one. What do they do? They screw it all up because they WANT to be better. It never even occurred to them that they had it PERFECTLY already. No, they let some little legless jackass convince them that he knew how to make it all better. Personally, I don't take advice from animals that don't have recognizable butts. Not a religious person? I have a few more examples simmering on the back burner... Allow me to pour you a cup: Girls that say they want nice, sweet guys (Oh, HOW they want those guys!) but without fail those girls end up with jerks that can't wipe their butts or show any kind of affection. Guys think that what they want is to have a bunch of chicks clamoring for their attention, and then they wonder why people don't like them being such "playas". My response to this comes in four easy, fun syllables: REE-DICK-YOU-LUSS!!! Now, you might say to yourself (or you might say directly into the computer screen, if you're a psycho) "I don't fit one of those broad generalizations. Even though I'm obviously supposed to infer that these examples are meant to get me thinking about how I further the point that is being made, I need it to be spelled out more clearly. The reason for this is because I, indeed, am an idiot." Aww, you're being too hard on yourself. Well, have you ever really desired something (money, possessions, companionship from someone, lack of companionship, etc.) and then gotten it, only to realize that you're worse off than you were before? Of course you have. That's because EVERYONE has. Therein lies the point that I am successfully making (yes, I have confidence in that, at least). And you may think now - or even think after reading this genius slice of blogger gold - that you've got your desires in check; that you are the exception to the rule. Sadly, you've either messed it up before and you're in denial, or you WILL mess it up BIG TIME in the future. Kinda bleak, I realize, but I love you too much to sugar coat. I wish that someone would have told me all of this. There, my point is proven, and I'm getting tired of writing this. It's like, almost three in the morning. Lesson we learned today: Gabriel doesn't lie. Other lesson we learned today: No one knows what they want. It's a truth. It's part of life. Get over it. I suggest you listen to the lyrics of "Mune Lite" and just strip yourself of feelings altogether, then you won't HAVE to want ANYTHING.

Apathy: I'm not just the spokesman, I'm a practicing member.

Mune Lite

I don't want my feelings,
Send them back from where they came
Desires lit like fire pits
That burn with raging flame.
Lust and anger, all consuming
Mind and heart and soul.
With creeping sins they're seeping in
And ravaging me whole.

I want to look at you
And be freed from what is hurting
I want to see you
Without feeling things at all
Can I somehow lose the trace of
What I feel when we embrace
And be as cold as the moon
That lights your face?

I'm still observing spectres,
Ghosts that I know all by name
And I can see, they're circling round me
Breeding Greed and wretched shame.
I don't even want their foils,
Like sweet angelic Bliss;
Joy and Laughter, sometime after,
Leave me with only more to miss...

I want to look around
And be freed from what is hurting
I want to see the world
Without feeling things at all
Can I somehow lose the trace of
All this emotional waste
And be as cold as the moon
That lights this place?

Oh save me not
From evil men
For they cause not
My sin.
Deliver me
From feeling things
That rage beneath
My skin.

So sayeth The Brad...

This Is It

So up until this point my little tagline for this site has been sort of a lie. It specifically mentions journalling, which I haven't done... UNTIL NOW. So get ready, because not only should this rock out, but it'll be more than a little bitter.

So I'm sitting here at The George at 4:30 am on a Sunday morning. Work is two hours away, I haven't slept, and I've been thinking all night. Well, to be fair, I've been eating-hanging out-desperately websurfing... and THEN thinking all night. And my thoughts have been centered on girls. The song says "I love girls, girls, girls, girls. Girls I do adore" but IS THAT REALLY TRUE? I'm starting to think no. Wait... I think that's pronounced "HELLS NO". I am starting to believe that these females, these objects of my interest as of late have turned in objects of scorn. (Friends of mine that are girls, avert thine eyes) GIRLS ARE REALLY STARTING TO PISS ME OFF ROYALLY! I mean, what is wrong with these things? Somebody send them back to the manufacturer, I think we broke them. Is this the sleep deprivation talking? NO! It's not. This is twenty years of observing these things finally being analyzed, fathomed, and written down for a smattering of people to see. Now when I say fathomed, I don't mean I understand them. Oh no. That'd be too easy. I only grasp all too well the harsh reality of their vast majority. I can see where these monks and priests that used to chill here got their notion from. They may have had some lust issues to deal with and no outlet for them but MAN! if they only knew how much drama and stupid CRAP they were saving themselves from, they'd have counted their blessings tenfold. That's what I'd like to do, swear off women and just use all my pent-up frustration to fuel something truly worthwhile. Like furthering God's kingdom. Or helping the marginalized. Or sausage (I've always wanted to make my own sausage... that just sounds yummy). Of course the real kicker is that that's not an option, at least not now. Celibacy can't be desired, you have to be called to it. And damned if I'm not ABSOLUTELY SURE that I'm not called to be celibate. So now I'm stuck in a world where I have to deal with and eventually BE with one of these thorns in my spiritual, social, physical, musical, AGRICULTURAL (I ran out of adjectives) side! Grr... I really hate that. They've got me so frustrated that I can't even form a cohesive, intelligent sentence. Or maybe that's the fact that now its quarter till five. Dang. This keeps me up too often. I'm fine with the NOT HAVING a girl thing. It's just all this stupid drama and prissy bullcrap that they start up that I can't deal with. Luckily, there are WOMEN out there. I gots no beef with women... it's GIRLS that are the kickers. Sadly, women aren't showing up on my radar (haven't seen hide nor hair of an unattached one in a looooong time). But that's what the summer's for. Well, I hope that I'll just have such a great summer that I don't have to trouble myself with all of this. But that might be a pipe dream. And this has become entirely too long. So I'm ending it. Thanks for letting me vent. Otherwise, this thought-stream would have just ended up as lyrics to a song that would have been REALLY BAD in hindsight. Saved by the bell, I suppose. I'll try not to write this vehemently again.

So sayeth The Brad...

Tower of the Silence

I'll climb through the rafters
Past storage and boxes
Of memories and dreams I once had;
Now forgotten.
I'll break through the cobwebs
And climb up the rungs
Till I'm up in the tower where
I go to be alone

When the pain just gets so bad
You're thinking you'll choke,
Just reach up through the clouds,
Past that thin veil of smoke
Cause you've got a Tower
Just like we all do.
Just scale it and realize
The Tower is You.

My Tower, my refuge
The strength in my solitude
The pain I can't seem to lose
Can't reach me up here...
Reaching up so high
Straight up to the heavens
Loving the absence
From all that was wrong before...

So sayeth The Brad...