Sunday, April 30, 2006

It's Good to be Back

I'm back. Just about over my jetlag, getting settled into the Jerusalem academic scene ;-) It's awesome here. The weather is just perfect: 'bout 70-80 degrees (Farenheit) and sunny every day. Cooler at night. Everyone's excited about the new start, planning schedules and accomplishments. Still working on a place to live, crashed by a friend for now. I think I am closing in on something. Got to sleep on time, got up in the morning, feeling more like a person again. Wow, being home was hard. So much baggage and confusion, now I can concentrate on what I have to do. Yah, I know I'm too selfish. Gotta work on that also. So great to be alive now. Stay away from philosophy. Make sure you master philosophy. School starts up again today. Not much more to say now. I fear I said to much already just blabbing away up there. Anyway, whatever. Gotta get back to work. Love y'all. Bye.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Saying Good Bye

Just had a long chat with my parents. We started when we went out to dinner last night and picked up tonight. Nice little steakhouse, good food. I didn't think I ate that much but by the end I was really stuffed. And usually I can eat. Talked about my future. Basically, they want me to have one. I don't. Well, I just don't like most of the options out there. I'd like to continue to study. They have two issues with that. For one, they see that as somewhat lazy, not getting out into the real world to earn a living. The other problem is paying for it. Also, study to do what, they wonder. Well, I'm not sure. I don't like any of the careers I've seen. So for now I just want to learn something. They tell me you don't have to like it. Everyone goes through hard times and does things they don't like. You just have to do it and make the best of it. I can't look at a long-term future and face it knowing that its all gonna suck. How/Why do people do that? They don't want to support me indefinitely. I don't like the idea of living at home. I don't know. I don't know what to do.

On the bright side, I'm leaving tomorrow. Should arrive in NaTBaG (Ben Gurion Airport, Tel Aviv, Israel) on Thurday morning. Thursday afternoon local time. So exciting. Hope it all works out.

Monday, April 24, 2006

The Birth of Voralus

When Colossus raped Narcissus at the grave of Speusippus, Aphrodite decided to grant Narcissuss a son in his own image. Narcissus was delighted and grew deeply attached to his son, whom he named Voralus. Growing jealous and disgusted by his son's incestuous relationship with his father, Colossus kidnapped Voralus and brought him to Carbonia, Sardinia. Young Voralus, however, longed to be with Narcissus and refused to eat or drink. The situation remained thus until Voralus was eventually reunited with his father. What sustained Voralus during his prolonged hunger strike was his famous philosophy, which nourished him when nothing else would.

Voralus proclaimed that life is pain and that no life is without a terrible trouble that seals him off from true eternal happiness. To acheive a balanced existence, one must eschew the pursuit of pleasure and focus instead on removal of pain through a virtuous life of good citizenry which benefits others as well as oneself. Kennedy later echoed Voralus, saying, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." Such a person will not think of himself, and can ignore the pain of living. Furthermore, as alleviation of pain becomes paramount and pursuit of pleasure far removed from consciousness, accomplishment becomes real and depression gives way to action.

Interestingly, Voralus gave up his philosophizing when he rejoined his father. Together, they ate and drank and *erhemm*. The ideals of his past gave way to a new physicality, which, in the emended philosophy of those later years was, in all likelihood, elevated to the level of a pure and intellectuo-spiritual longing for absolute perfection in the form of two beautiful forms joined in an act of love.

My what would Freud say about this? What would you say? (Btw, I misspelled Freud as Fred before I caught myself. Freudian slip?)

Hot Links:
Encyclopedia of Philosophy
World Atlas
More About the Brain Than You Need to Know
Wired News
Clive Thompson's blog
Keith Johnsons Links
Colossus of Rhodes

Fast Fact: Pyramus and Thisbe were precursors to Romeo and Juliet

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Prison House, Family, Apartments, Marriage, A Poem

Why can't we all just be? Life is so full of pressures. People care. About things and stuff. I hate life; I can't stand thinking about my stupid future. I feel trapped and locked in. Stuck. Tied-up in this labyrinth, this intricate web laden with stops, barricades, and blockades. You think you see a path only to see it closed off.

10:00PM, my 18 yr old brother asks my dad if he can go bowling. He gives him an hour. What?! How's a guy supposed to live around here? He means the best but - ouch. Being home for vacation is like cabin fever only like living hell. It's so sick to say that; I have it so good. I live in a nice house with all the modern amenities and great caring people. But I'm fooling myself. It hurts to be with these people now.

I'm feel like dying. I love my father. Really do. But I can't stand when he's around. I feel like he doesn't approve of the way I am, the things I do. Even writing this blog; if he saw it he might read it, so I try to hide it when he comes in. Which is awkward and unfortunate.

We don't talk about sex. We don't talk about our imperfections. We don't talk about our desires. I don't know what we do talk about; everything is taboo. And I'm all bottled up afraid to say the wrong thing so I don't know my family and they don't know me. We don't know each other and we share a roof and we share DNA. We do for each other and give to each other and on the surface we love each other but secrectly probably all hate each other.

I got two offers in the way of apartments from old friends looking for roommates. I've seen their places. Decent, good location. Problem is these are such good boys. They wouldn't go clubbing or anything. They get up in the morning. I'd feel funny there, idk. Maybe it would do me good; they'd be a good influence.

My friend got engaged tonight. I went with a bunch of guys to the party. We walked in, hugged the groom, wished congrats, and then stared around at each other as if to say, "Now what?" Went over to some other guys who were there, like "I haven't seen you in half a year, and it had been a year before that. We were together in high school, but we have nothing to talk about now so what do we do?" We waited a bit and then left.

Speaking of engagements, I should probably start thinking about marriage myself one of these months. I can't say the prospect totally doesn't interest me. It does. But there are things I want to do before I get hitched. To be honest, there are people I'd like to do. And the responsibilities: earning a living, supporting a family, raising kids, being there for my wife, giving up my selfish slothful ways, actually maintaining a place of residence instead of just renting a piece of junk and letting it ride. It has its rewards, I'm sure, but it sounds so hard.

Let me introduce this next piece. I put up such a long post, I didn't really expect anyone to read this far, so this is my experimental space. It's a poem about a feeling, but I let words get in the way so you end up with a kind of a solution. Not an answer, a solution. Supersaturated.

I saw you
After the feast
In the park

You shivered as you trembled
As I whispered
In the park

I heard your sweat
As you tugged me as you lifted me
In my quaking heart

A yellow bus passes by
The leaves rustle and the music fades
Fridge door is open you forgot the light
Thats not okay you're a big girl now

Sable stitching falling
Darkness calling fails to be heard
And ten come up the stairs with no one looking
As they scuttle, always looking

Inside sofa beckons
Sewn of silver gold bedeck'd
You sit up on it waiting
Forever waiting misanthrope

Any comments? Be honest '-)

Shoot! I wish I knew who I am.

Minor identity crisis here. Also, my paper for English Comp is not going so smoothly. As an aside, was Jekyll/Hyde gay? Why wasn't he married? Why did he trample (rape?) a girl? Why did I stay up all night? So much to do! I should go to the denstist before I leave, visit relatives, speak to the college about my transfer credits, shop for clothes, call up and go out with friends, go to the library to do some research, go see a movie (V for Vendetta?), pack, go to an art museum, am I forgetting anything? But what are the chances I'll get through a third of my list before my Wednesday flight? Ahhh.

Whoa, Teddy, get a grip... Sorry. Anyway, I thought of something: MPD has MPD. It is a dual personality. The primary personality is named MPD. It also has a secondary personality that calls itself DID. This alter self denies MPD's family, living instead in a fantasy world in which it has a family of its own, the group of dissociative diseases. DID is armed with defense mechanisms like standardized diagnostic inventories of which MPD is amnesic. idk. I just felt like saying idk just because everyone always says idk. idk idk idk idk idk idk. Whoops, I'm really overtired. But writing idk is faster than saying "I don't know" so cyberspace is a good place not to know. There will soon be a huge pandemic of not knowing. Watch out world, Idiot America is contagious! (Special thanks to Greenday and the DSM-IV)

Sybil: Does Art Imitate Life or Does Life Imitate Art?

I'm working on my lecture for psych class. It's about media influence on psychological science. More specifically, the influence books and movies both fiction and nonfiction have exerted on the understanding, diagnosis, and treatment of Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD, aka DID) by the academic community and the general public. Popular accounts of multiple personalities include The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Three Faces of Eve, and Sybil. Each has changed the way the medical community reacts to potential cases of MPD and in a broader sense, to the concepts of personality and "selfhood" in general.

So, does art imitate life or does life imitate art?

Friday, April 21, 2006

On a More Somber Note

I almost forgot to mention, my parents were there with my younger siblings too. This complicated things slightly for me. I feel bad saying it, but I just felt like I hate my parents for making me feel restricted and uncomfortable being myself. I don't want to hate them; they are so very good to me. But what can I do? I need a life of my own. Every time I would head for the bar and see my father, who rarely drinks anything and looks down on it, standing nearby, it would make me crazy. I'm uncomfortable being with girls around my family that wouldn't send me to a co-ed school. And obviously, even more uncomfortable being intimate with guys near them. Hence the late nights, the fights over getting up in the morning, yada yada yada

Queer Boy in a Straight World: Fragments from Spring Break

I just got back home and my heart feels like a roller-coaster. It was a great few days. Nice place. Basketball court, small swimming pool but placed right in the middle of the lobby! The food was good. The rooms were decent, the weather was absolutely gorgeous. The company was good: There were a couple of cute guys and a few girls that made me feel almost hetero. One guy I met was simply a g-d. About 18, tall, slender, mouthwatering. I hung out in the lobby for hours just to be near him while he played billiards or ping-pong. Actually, he taught me to play pool. It was hard to concentrate on the game and what he was saying instead of on his body and his sweet voice. I kept undressing him in my mind and imagining his candy ass. I wanted him so bad. How do I approach a guy like that? I mean if he’s not gay, and I tell him I am, things could get so awkward. Especially since I’m reluctant to “come out” in public.

Hey, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not just after "that thing, that thing, that thi-i-i-ing." I wanted a caring relationship. You don't believe me. Anyway, I also met his sister. She is a real charmer. Very pretty and well-dressed, but I was so taken in by her smile and vivacious personality I totally forgot to really check her out. She'd sit there on the sofa with her boyfriend flirting with every boy in the hotel. I don't know how he put up with it, but I guess he knew she was his and it was worth it. She wanted to see this other cute guy's six pack and had him take off his shirt. Then she had him do it again for me because I had missed it. He did it right there in the middle of the hotel lobby! (It was about
3:00 AM
) I was loving it, but also disappointed thinking it probably won't go anywhere with any of them. I am so awkward socially. And so shy. I hoped the wine and vodka would help, but it wasn't enough to break me out of my shell. I am so diffident (look it up; I did) that enough booze to really loosen me up is enough to make me sick. It was fun, but it also seemed an opportunity lost, which breaks me and makes me feel sad.

On a side note, it seemed something of an international gathering: Americans, Canadians, Israelis, Texans, etc. Yah, I think Texas is its own country. :-) I hope I'll meet up with these people again sometime.

Monday, April 17, 2006

On the Couch

I am comfortable being gay. I don't have a problem admitting it to myself. So why is it so hard to talk about to others? I don't feel I can tell my parents, and it's weird to talk about with my friends. Even with my therapist I have trouble getting the words out. I try. Like I'll walk in and say, "I saw this hot guy on the bus on my way over here." Only I'll mumble it half under my breath. And he'll say, "Can you repeat that?" So I go, "You didn't hear me the first time?" and try to change the subject.
One time I told him about my feelings for Y----. I was thinking of stuff to say, and doing my usual beating around the bush because it's so hard to talk about real issues. I resorted to commenting on the objects in the room. Flowers, paintings, bookshelves, children's toys, lamp, etc. When I finished I realized I hadn't mentioned the couch, which looks like a bed. Wanting to be honest and cooperate, I pointed this out, attributing my reluctance to mention the bed because I wanted Y---- in my bed and was nervous to talk about it. So he asked, "Can you elaborate on that?" Here I'm thinking, "No, damnit I don't want to discuss what I want to do with guys in bed!" But I don't want to be difficult, I'm seeing the dude for a reason after all. So I told him that I want to kiss Y---- and hold him and love him and not be by myself all the time. Then he asked, "What comes to mind when you think of being lonely?" I told him a story of the time when my father was in the hospital and I was in school in another city and couldn't visit him. When I called the hospital to try to speak with him and the hospital didn't let, I felt so lonely I cried.
Dr. H------- wasn't satisfied with that and waited for more, but that was all I had to say. Often, I'm afraid of where things will go in therapy if I let them go unchecked. I know I should just say it and be open and let the process work, but it's scary. Why? I don't know, what if people I like are bad? What if opinions I've held are false? What if the life I'm leading is wrong? What if the life I'm leading is right and I mistakenly change it? I don't know. I didn't intend this post to be a transcript of a therapy session but it's cool how it turned out. Maybe I'll write up more of them when I continue after spring break.

Oh, and mom and dad, if you are reading my blog, you probably shouldn't be. At least, that's not what I intended. Maybe it's for the best, but we are going to have a lot to talk about. And, knowing us, we probably won't talk about it anyway. Which is fine, I guess. ;-)

Going upstate today for a couple of days vacation. Easy access to a pool makes me giddy with happiness. I could just spend the whole day poolside, swimming, reading, swimming again. I'll probably be back for the weekend. Adios.

Two is Company

People are so homophobic! Even people who are gay pretend to be disgusted by homosexuality because it's not in. Now, I attend an all-boys school and there is no reason why guys have to be ashamed of their sexuality. Well, that's not entirely true. Two students were expelled and others cautioned earlier this year for allegedly "having homosexual orgies in the dormitory." It was a fiasco; don't ask. The dean acted on hearsay to take draconian action that made him look ridiculous in front of the entire student body.

Anyway, I need some love. Someone to hug and kiss and cuddle with. Someone to talk to and care for and respect someone who wants me like I want him. I miss Y----. He is so cute, smart, funny, cool. He knows how to just chill and have a good time without always running to find something to do. I guess I'll see him again when the semester resumes, if I can wait that long.

To all my readers: thank you all so much for visiting my site. As always, comments welcome, even if you have nothing to say. You can just tell me where to find your blog. So long.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Faith in Humanity

I went to check out the New York Auto Show in Manhattan’s Javits Center. Thousands of visitors crowded the huge expo center to see hundreds of the latest (2007) models and concept cars from Porsche and Maseratti to Bentley and Lexus, Maybach, Jaguar, Infinity, Aston Martin, Ford’s Super Chief, Mazda, Hyundai, Honda, Kia, BMW, Saturn’s new Outlook and Sky, Buick, Acura, Audi, Chrysler, Hummer, Volkswagen, Toyota, and more. All the top makers were on the floor strutting their stuff.

The show kind of restored my faith in humanity. Seeing all those people made me think: people are real. Whole families are out there living, interacting, looking good. The decadence, wealth and glamour of America is on display (insert cute french phrase here). I think of Israel, where all I see on the road are white Skodas, some Mercedes' and busses. Only here in NYC (and perhaps a select number of other locations world-wide) could we afford such a massive display. Millions of dollars worth of cars and trucks are on display. Not to mention staffing costs, transportation costs, design costs and display technology, and all manner of costs I didn’t think of. The effect is very beautiful.

Still, my nagging nihilism is not completely assuaged. I can't for the life of me figure out why to live. What justifies existence?

Saturday, April 15, 2006


I put up some new links. Solid sites. I'm trying to find more good research links. It's hard to find good recent source material free. Tell me what you think: please comment. Does anyone read this? Peace out |\/

153 letters

Family Life

Whoa. Three days of feasting on fish and meat and matzah and lettuce. Three days of being home with my parents. Time to hit the gym and take off those extra pounds. Crazy how many times my Mom and Dad tried to wake me up. Every morning, every afternoon... and they were so dissapointed each time I wanted some sleep! I feel constantly judged at home. I know they care about me and want the best for me, but I just can't live under the pressure.

My father is always doing things. It doesn't matter what, but he can't just sit and chill. Has to be puttering about, cleaning up, fixing things, working on some project or another. My mother too. On the one hand it's great that they have so much strength and such a high work ethic; a real desire to get ahead. But still, it's a shame they can't relax. So the holiday was an experience. It's good to know I'm going back to school soon. I love my parents, but for now I think we're better off with a long-distance relationship.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

The New Erik Erikson: Stages of Blogger Life

Ayn Rand is ageless. That is, the people on blogger who show an interest in her and her works are more likely not to report their age than the average blogger. Literature retains an interest throughout the lifespan from very young readers, through old age. Philosophy's median age is slightly higher than that for literature. While it attracts an age-disparate audience, the extremely young are outliers to this set.

Religion is ageless too, but seems to follow a bimodal distribution: peaks appear around age 20 and 60. World peace is for old people. Sad, but true. I was almost embarrassed to list it myself, being only 21. Psychology seems young. Type I (adolescent onset) psychology manifests itself in many young people and commonly afflicts sufferers until they turn fifty. A strong interest in boys is shown mostly by, you guessed it: teenage girls.

Okay, I was really bored. But the sociological impacts of age-based thinking are huge and they go way beyond advertising. They pervade every facet of life. The internet may produce changes. This is a serious issue that deserves big consideration. Which I would like to give it, pending a sufficient research grant. If you know of any, pipe up now. The data presented here are estimates, not the result of a rigorously constructed study. p = .42 :-)

Oh, lest I forget, remind me sometime to explain the name of my blog Tearing But Whole. Or maybe it's obvious to everyone but me. Besides, the mark of a classic work is ambiguity and amenity to interpretation.

Your turn.

Poetry, Art, and Random Bits

On Reading Algernon Swinburne:
True poetry communicates in ways prose never could. Its power is the telepathic synergy between author and reader; it defies and transcends the limitations of its feeble medium. It touches you, and yet not in any physical way. When prose replaces grammar with arbitrary line breaks a new art is born. Not quite poetry, which connotes the divine, it must be considered on a new scale for its merit as a distinct literary form. Poetry doesn't show you; it transports you and allows you to look for yourself. (If you like poetry, read Swinburne's "Ave Atque Vale")

On Telepathic Synergy:
The phrase slapped me swiftly when I tried to explain how the thoughts of the artist appear in the viewer's mind. This indeed is the miracle and joy of art, and it is what differentiates art from science. Ordinary language is scientific: it uses reliable symbols with predictable meanings that can be broken down and understood. The method of their transfer of ideas from originator to receiver is, while not foolproof, fairly straightforward. Art, on the other hand, must disseminate original and powerful ideas that are not yet part of the public conscious and don't have easy symbols to recall them to the listener's ear. The magic of art accepts this challenge, using complex manipulation of the audience's senses and metal faculties to create - in the viewer's mind - novelty. To perceive art, then, is to witness this act of Creation. Hence art cannot be said to reside in its medium. Art is a fluid verb; it exists in the momentary act of creation. The instant of telepathic synergy between artist and artee; the instant when the new Idea is formed in the mind of the beholder, moulded from a language of dreams; this instant is Art.

I had thought the phrase original, but it was too perfect: Google turned up 53 sites that beat me to it. I think I did lend it a new twist, though. (Google for alternative use.) Tip: To Google the site type in search window as shown, synergy

On Now:
There is no such thing as freedom, only a bigger birdcage. - Teddy Douglas
I think this quote is original. If you can find it anywhere else let me know.

Parents. Quick, what is the first thing that came into your mind?

Cute point my psych prof made. (This works better orally.) Think of the word "the". What comes to mind? The letters T-H-E? Good. Now, what color were they? For most people, they don't seem to be in any color. But in our mind's eye, we do see them. What gives?

I'll be taking Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off for the Passover holiday, so this young blog will be quiet for now. I hope to continue Sunday.

This post begs for your comments. Happy Holidays!

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

I learned how to post pics; not sure how I'll use that option in the future. So, about me. I grew up in the burough of Queens in New York City and I've been studying in the Holy Land, which I must say is a really rad location to be, for the last 10 months.

Aside from the terrorist suicide bombs the Israel Defense Force is always working to prevent (and the Kassam rockets they are always shooting at us from the Gaza land we returned this past summer) and the fear of being blown up on my way to school and stuff there is a wealth of excitement.

Honestly, though, the citizens don't live in fear. They go about normal lives. They're tough. Jerusalem has culture galore! It is the center of Israeli commerce, government, education, and nightlife. It has malls and theaters, universities and outdoor markets (shuks). The city is so colorful and fun it would be a tourist attraction even without its religious significance, of which it has plenty. (And it's not far from the beaches.)

My major thus far is psychology, though my interests are wide-ranging and I'm not sure I won't change to do something else. I gave up my childhood for pursuit of academic success in hopes of being admitted to a top college. After being named valedictorian of my high school class, however, I got religion and went to a Rabbinical college. Don't get nervous now and think I'm some kind of freak, I'm still a normal friendly guy like you.

OK, I'm a crazy freak, with horns - no - antlers! and I am plotting to take over the world! Not. What did you expect, I'm not a perfect person... there's many things I wish I didn't do... I just want you to know... to change how I used to be... and the reason is youuu... sorry 'bout that, I love that Hoobastank song.

Anyway, they said some really smart things there, I learned a lot about alll kinds of things, and then decided to continue my secular education. Which finds me now trying to come up with a term paper for English Comp and a lecture with an innovative perspective on a psychiatric disorder for Abnormal Psych. My other courses this semester include Stats, Calculus, and Management. The wacky thing is that I'm so overloaded my academic advisor had to pull strings to make my schedule allowable, and I still have time to go drinking at night and sleep half the day. Ahhh, college life!

Back to my paper, Ive been researching the literature of the fin de siecle period (end of the 19th century). As it turns out, most of the major writers, and indeed most artists and intellectuals throughout the ages, were gay (or at least bisexual). Okay, maybe not most but Socrates, Plato, Leonardo da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Caravaggio, Shakespeare, Tchaikovsky, Lord Byron, Walt Whitman, Oscar Wilde, Allen Ginsberg, Herman Melville, Tenessee Williams, and many more are recognized as homosexuals. As were many Kings and Emperors. Even the Roman god Zeus in the legend of Ganymede was portrayed as, if such a term can be used of a god, gay. As Syms would say, these are names you must know (whatever that means).

I'm getting sidetracked here. The paper will probably be something to do with the nature and psychology of evil, the portrayal of conscience, and the use of doppelgangers and magical elements. I'm still trying to narrow it down and gather information, and, if possible, make it actually fit the assigned guidelines (fat chance of that). I welcome as always any helpful suggestions or ideas. Spread the love! And if you are still reading this massive post, here's my thanks and a kiss from me to you ∙}{∙ Does that look right? Anyway, don't hate me.

4 in 1 day!

Whoa, I'm getting addicted to this blogging thing. I'll probably cool off my pace after the first rush wears off. Anyway, I've discovered that in blogging, like in anything else, sex sells. Put lots of sex related words on your page and you get more hits. Its that simple. Well, it's not really that simple, but that is what people are looking for.

Philosophy of life and art and music is all cool and stuff but dirty sluts and assholes and porn and hot asian babes and gay cum big dicks hard tits huge breasts xxx pussy seem the main attraction of the internet. Just look at the profile view numbers of these types of blogs.

Okay, I admit, I was trying to attract some page views with those keywords. It's a pretty stupid rouse though, because if thats what viewers want, they'll leave my site in a second. I hope I'll be able to put up some serious content and have a little fun and think and grow. With your help of course. Comments?

P.S. It's still not working. I don't get hits. I can't even find my page by searching for keywords I know I put in my blog. Anyway kudos to you if you found me. Love

Pizza and Stories and Falafel and Movies and Hockey and Swimming and Baseball and Love and War and Domination and Learning and Kindness and Selfishnes

I kinda wonder what this blog is going to be about. I mean, sometimes I think I'm pretty boring, but other times there is this whole world of intrigue in my breast. I notice a lot of poetry on blogger. There are also a lot of dead blogs. These dead blogs that were started once and never written in again can fill Bloggpost Cemetery, the nation's largest. I waste so much time on the internet it's crazy.

I'm trying to find myself. Maybe you can help me. I'm trying to save the world. I want to enjoy life. I want to make money and earn respect. I want to graduate college. NO, not just graduate, but earn a double major and become valedictorian. But I don't even want to be in college. Got better things to do. Like find love. Or God.

Life is hard. Life is easy. Maybe it's so easy it becomes hard, ya know what I mean? Like the basics are easy so you have time on your hands to think about the rest, and then it all makes so little sense its real hard...

Well, if anybody is listening (funny how we call it listening when all you do is read: the language is querky that way) feel free to comment and become a thread in the tapestry of my life. Yah, that was pretty lame, but I'm not thinking anyway.

Oh, and about those graveyard blogs, I hope this one will last. Love

Discovering Blogger

So many blogs on the net, so much they could do.
So little time we have, so who could read all this stuff?
Is it an attempt to communicate? To educate? To brag? To live beyond one's years? To live beyond one's physical place? To meet people like oneself? Or something else?

Reminds me of a saying from the Talmud:

The day is short
The work is much
The workers are lazy
And their Master urges them on

P.S. I seem to like capital letters

Fresh start?

There is nothing new under the sun. - King Solomon

Now, our question is where is cyberspace. If it is over the sun, there might just be something new here. Right now, I'm thinking it exists in the connected computers here on earth; so much for originality.