Friday, April 1, 2011
im hungry, like the name I dare you to judge
KeranGuesser, is by far the fastest and most analytical of the bunch. It's history in his mind, the record. I can see it's the love of Truth that runs rampant in his eyes. Terificante, is terrific, I mean there is Terror and it is epic. Thank God for a man that you know, understands there is something that he can't really say. To this master, the attempt to define the undefinable becomes something, well you know. Of course there is also, MacnaMera, the man is correct, knowing how to define the genius, showing me James Joyce. They all do know. Imagine reading everything and analyzing it with everyone. What fun! KeranGuesser is right, understand the past, through literature. It's honest to God. So is school in general, it's a great place to reflect with others about nothing and everything. School lets you grow wings, kinda, if you can commit to the experience of wisdom. The professors I got this semester have shown me lots this year. Well I mean, I've brought a lot of my own thoughts into a, ah, ah peaceful place. A place I have began working on, a perch for me to sit upon watching the process of my life unfold. I use my body as the fuel for my heart and soul. I got a good heart, and honestly I haven't really understood how to feed my soul till this semester. Words are very good ways to define life with, draw it out, they can document and they can make Fiction from fact. The teachers have helped my growth. but the best way to feed the soul is through love. Letting go giving into the heart, then releasing yourself through your soul and watching, listening, tasting, hearing, using yourself allowing your soul to synthesize, analyze and re interpret to give back your life's impressions honestly to others. For them to gain this in site, a piece of your soul, an experience of how you existed, a glimpse at the heart, its reason for passion. It is a morbid process of illusion, because often you put your existence in the hands of progress. But progress is limitless, and it wears at the body, and pains the heart. But once the soul gets a taste of the absence, of the distance and perspective it creates judgment and pursues it's tastes separately, it peruses the sense of it all. I'm not sure who runs it, the soul. I'm not sure the Professors know either, but they've all helped me think about it.