Photography

Maybe the reason why I like taking pictures so much, is because you can take a picture of someone and attempt to paint a whole picture of them. I can imagine what kind of person they are, what family they have etc. All in one picture. And it’s this incredible story, and in the end… it’s all a lie.

The mechanical quality of the old cameras from the 1900's have a quality about them. Pure... beauty. Cold, automatic, refined, clean, beautiful, long lasting, effiency. Digital cameras not quite so much but in terms of quickness in seeing the pics many times better. One beautiful aspect of is... what I've said before. The appeal of an automaton. Emotionless.

For other things... work… you get it done. Exercise, do it and results guaranteed. Sports… try hard to lose yourself in it. People? I study I analyze, I involve but only so much. God? The one I need the most. Me? Wanting to delve and understand but unable to. You the reader? Don’t concern yourself too much with me. My writings and my thoughts are my own. You are reading only because I'm a coward and secretly I want people to read and understand me a little better, but I'm too afraid to really admit it to more than a handful of people.

The Pharisee and the Tax Collector (Luke 18) - Slam Poetry

Not all... but parts of this click man very very hard. IK shared it with me, and posted it on his blog. Found here: Lifegives 

I’m a harbinger of doom. By the time I try to make amends, it’s too late. By the time I realize… what I can do to help it’s too late. I’ve already crossed that line. I’ve already done too much damage. Haha. Life man... well my life. I honestly hope yours is better. Eff me man. Haha. I say that a lot you know. "haha." Or if you talk to me I might smirk some when it's not appropriate. Why? Because internally I'm dying. I'm squirming. You aren't allowed to see me cry, to see what I go through. So I cover it all with that, it's how I cope. Someone told me it's creepy. And ya... it is. I laugh cause of the ridiculousness of the situation. Of how... even dark things are laughable. Laughable cause they confirm self-evident truths of sin. Laughable because... it is. Maybe you don't understand. That's good. You aren't a cynic. You aren't... twisted like me. Well maybe you are, and you're just healthier than me. That's also good.

Or maybe I'm just a sadist. Or a masochist? Maybe that's it. Maybe I enjoy the pain that I cause because I use it to twist myself and break me down and hurt me and more and more. I mean that's what I did when I daydreamed when I was in middle school. I would make up stories where I was the character. And he'd suffer and suffer, until I cried on his behalf. Haha. So that at least someone was crying and cared. But in the end what does it matter? It was all fake anyway, and I'd return to the real world. But maybe that pain, is what reminds me that I'm alive.

Conflict: Hope and despair? White and black? Light and darkness? Life and death? Good and evil? (I don't really believe in dichotomies that are defined so clearly, but it's helpful for framework)

The thing I long for the most... is death. That sweet kiss that promises delivery from this world and into another. Hopefully... the eternity that promises life as opposed to the eternal hell that I deserve.

I wonder... how much of myself do I really know? But I know where hope comes from. I know where truth comes from. I know where goodness comes from. And so rises another conflict Freedom or Chains?