We're your average ordinary/Super-Human/Punishers of Evil/Rock and Roll Band!
thought I'd drop these posts in my LJ as well. Seems that they've caused a bit of a stir with a few people...
------------------------------------------
Why.
It's a good word, really. Take another look at it. Go ahead, I'll wait.
Interesting when you stop and think about it, isn't it?
I mean, it's a word that inquires about motive, and describes it. At the same time. And SO many interesting things have come from uttering the word "Why" aloud.
How about you give it a try, right now. Say it aloud. What images, emotions, thoughts, desires, needs, etc. all float to the sureface when you do?
Yeah, I think that's wierd, too.
Oh, you meant me. Right then.
Well, perhaps if I explained the first one that came to me then?
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Why do I feel compelled to step out of my perfectly comfortable room at any hour of the night and just stare at the sky? Smoke a cigarette, maybe not, barefoot, maybe with shoes, but just mainly look up. I can't really see anything out there, I live too close to I-35 and the city. Too much light pollution. I don't have anything particular to look for; I always know where my favorite constellation is anyway. [bonus points to you for knowing which one that is.] What is it? Am I expecting something? A brilliant flash of light and undertanding a la John Travolta in Phenomenon? To be witness to the first aurora in Texas? Front row seats to the beginning of Impending Doom 2™? No. No I'm not. I'm just looking. Taking it all in. Doing my part to try and figure out this fucking mess that we all get ourselves into every now and again. The End is never out of reach, really. It's always in sight. Not too far, but just far off enough to be frustrating. To some members of the audience, this may be a familiar phrase by now, but it's not the There that scares me, it's the Getting.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
There, you see? That's the first thing that came to me. Birthed, fully matured, from my skull. Now you see why "Why" is such an interesting word.
Try it. See what happens.
---------------------------------------------
and then....
---------------------------------------------
To change, or to remain-- that is the question:
Whether it's nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of unlucky happenstance, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing... end them.
To die, to sleep--No more--and by a sleep to say we end the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks that we as foilable creatures are prone to. It's a realization one could so fiercely desire. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have passed on to greater things must give us pause. There's the respect that makes a mess of life for far longer than it should!
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's presumption, the lasting aches of despised love, the law's delay, the audacity of those with control, and the rejections that the patient soul of the unworthy take, when he himself would yearn to lash out and change things into a manner of his liking? But he, who would heave the heavy loads, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, for the fear of something after death (this "undiscovered country" from which no man ever returns) puzzles his will, and makes him rather bear these burdens than fly to great unknown!
So, conscience makes a coward of us all, and thus the true color of resolution is tainted-- no, diminished-- with the pale cast of thought, and actions of great fever and tenacity loose their strength and falter.
----------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------
Why.
It's a good word, really. Take another look at it. Go ahead, I'll wait.
Interesting when you stop and think about it, isn't it?
I mean, it's a word that inquires about motive, and describes it. At the same time. And SO many interesting things have come from uttering the word "Why" aloud.
How about you give it a try, right now. Say it aloud. What images, emotions, thoughts, desires, needs, etc. all float to the sureface when you do?
Yeah, I think that's wierd, too.
Oh, you meant me. Right then.
Well, perhaps if I explained the first one that came to me then?
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Why do I feel compelled to step out of my perfectly comfortable room at any hour of the night and just stare at the sky? Smoke a cigarette, maybe not, barefoot, maybe with shoes, but just mainly look up. I can't really see anything out there, I live too close to I-35 and the city. Too much light pollution. I don't have anything particular to look for; I always know where my favorite constellation is anyway. [bonus points to you for knowing which one that is.] What is it? Am I expecting something? A brilliant flash of light and undertanding a la John Travolta in Phenomenon? To be witness to the first aurora in Texas? Front row seats to the beginning of Impending Doom 2™? No. No I'm not. I'm just looking. Taking it all in. Doing my part to try and figure out this fucking mess that we all get ourselves into every now and again. The End is never out of reach, really. It's always in sight. Not too far, but just far off enough to be frustrating. To some members of the audience, this may be a familiar phrase by now, but it's not the There that scares me, it's the Getting.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
There, you see? That's the first thing that came to me. Birthed, fully matured, from my skull. Now you see why "Why" is such an interesting word.
Try it. See what happens.
---------------------------------------------
and then....
---------------------------------------------
To change, or to remain-- that is the question:
Whether it's nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of unlucky happenstance, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing... end them.
To die, to sleep--No more--and by a sleep to say we end the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks that we as foilable creatures are prone to. It's a realization one could so fiercely desire. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have passed on to greater things must give us pause. There's the respect that makes a mess of life for far longer than it should!
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's presumption, the lasting aches of despised love, the law's delay, the audacity of those with control, and the rejections that the patient soul of the unworthy take, when he himself would yearn to lash out and change things into a manner of his liking? But he, who would heave the heavy loads, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, for the fear of something after death (this "undiscovered country" from which no man ever returns) puzzles his will, and makes him rather bear these burdens than fly to great unknown!
So, conscience makes a coward of us all, and thus the true color of resolution is tainted-- no, diminished-- with the pale cast of thought, and actions of great fever and tenacity loose their strength and falter.
----------------------------------------------