Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Typewriter Ramble #2


The air is cold, as it suggests for me to continue down the path I have yet to see. Still, I must continue — the scent is drawing me in. Closer I walk as the leaves from strangled trees wave past my eyes. Silently I sing a lullaby that my mother would recite before she kissed my head. I fell asleep there as the colors stop to be what they were. They took on a whole new hue — one no person has ever seen. I was compelled to see the vibrancy at its fullest.

I only had to hope for what I thought it to be and then it would become something even I could not believe in. Yes, something that even a mother could not dream up to tell her child. That great truth we seek for out whole life, but maybe we can only find it in death?

In the silence we can hear everything that has yet to be heard — all those soft little sounds that come out of our true being. For it is screaming a scream that has never, not even once, been heard. THAT is the sad truth of it all.

Only if we could hear, truly hear, the first great truth to ever be known. Maybe the truth is already in the situation? That could be the truth and the only truth we could ever know.


Sunday, March 1, 2009

My Grand Life Goals (Round 1)

I was asked to respond to this question in my Media Ethics course at SUNY New Paltz:

In his book, "A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy," philosophy professor William Irvine says many people have trouble naming their grand goal in living. Do you? In other words, of the things in life you might pursue, which is the thing you believe to be most valuable?

Sharing my answer seemed like a suitable thing to post to this blog. Since this blog, in some regards, is another thing I use to utilize these goals. Check out what I had to say and feel free to leave me a comment that sums up how you feel about this question in regards to yourself.

The first thing I remember promising myself, was that I would not work for a 9-to-5 job in a cubicle. I didn’t want an office job. I wanted something with more adventure and creativity. I wanted something that I could express myself in order to do my job. I guess that is how, in turn, I feel into journalism, eventually.

Ever since my mid-teens I have had this feeling that I wanted to change the world. I always feel childish admitting this, but I feel like I was put on this earth to change the world, or at least to affect some part of it in a positive manner. There are just too many reasons for me not to believe that I have a strong purpose here. I just don’t want to bore you with the details about why I feel this way. It started out that I thought I could achieve this through poetry, but now I feel I have more chance to do this through journalism. Who knows, maybe there will be a poetry revival in the future. At least I hope there is one — even if I never get my poetry published.

Lastly, I have decided recently that I want to be remembered. I don’t think it is being famous that I want, but I do want to be remembered in the future. I would like to have my writing looked back upon with significance to our culture and life. Similar to how we look back and study these great writers, such as (insert your favorite writer here), I want to be reflected upon too. I want to leave my mark on the journalism and literary world. Then I could die a content man.