Wednesday, March 28, 2012


Sometimes, all we want is some comfort; some comforting, supportive words told to us. Just to soothe our minds. There are some people that are naturally skilled at that. 

But unfortunately, comfort is not always provided in the world.

I want to do something big. I need to do something big. And I need to, I will, do it today.

I'm going to try: really going to try. To become skilled in one of my interests, and to make something out of it. I'm going to comfort myself when I need to be supported, and I'm going to make it out there. 

The trouble, for everyone, is putting their finger on what it is they want. Life is going to flourish through my fingers, run through me like I am the champion of the world: I am strong, I will be strong, I am going to become so intimate with the world that I'm going to burst; overflowing with compassion, joy, pleasure. I am going to use everything in this world to make it. I will not only use the pen but the pencil and the keyboard too; not only the paper but the computer; not just my friend, but my friends.

After all, I am a philosipher already; my love of wisdom is unstopable.

Ludicrously ridiculous.

Deliciously entertaining.

Fabulously cherishable.

Emphatically encouraging.

Ripely energetic.

Engagingly fascinating.

I will seek to recognize, to understand the world. I've got to see what it really is before I start the thoughts of a personal utopia.

I will be a magnet, sticking to my interests, hopes, and inovations.

Give up?

What the ***?

Are they kidding me?

No way.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

"Our goal is to become with the way of things. And in so doing to become more intimate with the world, more intimate with ourselves. This is our pleasure, this is our demand, this is our delight: to become with the world."- Great line. So, so lush, descriptive: it has meaning within each word.
Sentences are all about the way they are formed. All the words coming together create a whole nother world.
Yeah, that's my big line. But it's a good one.
I think it's great to start out young. I'm young, so "what do I know"?
Well, think again.
The young are going to revolt! We need some respect here!
Everyone may not live up to the same standards, but everyone has ideas!
And so everyone should share them!
But my question is, why don't people?
Are we brought up in a society where we are scared of sharing our opinions?
No, I don't think so.
So why is it that kids aren't ruling the world yet?

*That felt surprisingly good to write...
I think thinking is brilliant. It is. Just the ability to put your mind to work is something.
Bonjour. Comment ca va?
Ca va bien, merci.
J'ai sommeil.

Bonjour. Quell est la date aujordui?
Eh? Qui, c'est mardi, le vingt-sept mars. Il fait beau.
Je suis, eh, je ne sais pas. J'ai sommeil.

La la la. Est-ce que tu parle? Je parle beaucoup.

Je ne sais pas.

Je ne sais pas.

Am I saying any of this right?
Does it really matter?
Maybe it does.
Maybe our reader wants the story to have some action.
GOSH! What does maybe mean?

Sunday, March 18, 2012

In social studies, we are learning about the ancient Greeks. We read a bunch of Greek myths, and now we have to write our own. This is what I wrote:

Long ago, there lived underground two very jovial gods, who ruled the kingdom of the underground. Soiler, the royal king, always made certain that all plants had enough soil and nutrients to grow. Roota, queen of the roots, inspected the roots of every natural plant to make sure they were healthy.

Everyday of life went on fairly well for the couple of gods and their nymphs and apprentices. Everyday would be a repetition of the day before; warm, sunny skies, and full of, well, standard happiness. And because of their immortal souls, they never grew any older. And that was the way they liked it.

Until one day, one very usual, regular day, it wasn’t so regular. That was the day on which Hades, god of the underworld, captured Persephone, daughter of Demeter, goddess of crops and growth. That was the day on which every thing grew black, shrivled up, and grew angry. Crops and plants did not grow.

Water did not fall to the ground, and so the crops did not grow, and so Soiler and Roota grew very worried. How were their precious plants to grow if they did not grow? How would they live?

You see, the whole Family of the Underground depended on their plants to grow. Or else, they would die of unhappiness.

Soiler and Roota, being the very un-inovative gods that they were, quickly grew very glum. There was no work to be done, no roots and soil to be nurtured, no plants to grow!

All the while, Demeter weeped. Her daughter, her precious, beloved daughter, was trapped in the Underworld. She mourned, until one day, Persephone slowly rose from under the ground.

As you all know, from the myth of Persephone, there came the seasons. When she was trapped in the underworld, her mother refused to have growth, and that became winter. But when Persephone arose and came back to her mother, it would be spring, and in it the flowers blooming with joy.

Actually, Demeter had no say in when or why or how flowers grew. That was Blooma, goddess of bloom.

Blooma was Persephone’s long lost sister, whom neither Persephone nor Demeter knew about. But Blooma knew all right.

After being thrown away in secrecy by her father, Blooma left to live with Soiler and Roota, her aunt and uncle. The two patiently listened to her tale and took Blooma in. But Blooma had only one problem. She had, not yet, a power.

And so that day, that very day on which Persephone was captured, Blooma mourned with her aunt and uncle. Her sister, her true sister, was to be, well, she didn’t know. It just sounded so scary.

But Blooma knew there was nothing to be done.

So days went on and on with unhappiness.

One day, one very solemn day, Flowr, a young, thoughtful god, walked in through the door to the underground. As soon as Blooma and Flowr met eyes, it was love. At first sight.

Blooma, knowing that her aunt and uncle would not be pleased with her sudden outburst of strong emotions, kept Flowr a secret.

Life, at least for Blooma, became well again. She was happy: she had found her true love.

One day, Blooma had to admit something to Flowr.

“Flowr,” she said in a gentle voice. “Flowr, I have to admit something. I cherish you more than anything, but, well, there is something I need. I need a power! I need a skill, like my aunt and uncle, and all the other gods of Mount Olympus!”

“My darling,” Flowr replied. “I wish the same thing as you.”

With this need on their fingertips, the two searched for something special that they could create. They looked and looked, constantly contemplated, until one day, they found it.

And so together, Blooma and Flowr, created springtime: the Blooming of Flowers.