Wednesday, August 7, 2013

So Live It

Don't you cry for the lost
Smile for the living
Get what you need and give what your given
You know life's for the living so live it
Or your better off dead


Saturday, February 16, 2013

The Future of Forestry


-The Future of Forestry-

How will the legend of the age of trees
Feel, when the last tree falls in England?
When the concrete spreads and the town conquers
The country’s heart; when contraceptive
Tarmac’s laid where farm has faded,
Tramline flows where slept a hamlet,
And shop-fronts, blazing without a stop from
Dover to Wrath, have glazed us over?
Simplest tales will then bewilder
The questioning children, “What was a chestnut?
Say what it means to climb a Beanstalk,
Tell me, grandfather, what an elm is.
What was Autumn? They never taught us.”
Then, told by teachers how once from mould
Came growing creatures of lower nature
Able to live and die, though neither
Beast nor man, and around them wreathing
Excellent clothing, breathing sunlight –
Half understanding, their ill-acquainted
Fancy will tint their wonder-paintings
Trees as men walking, wood-romances
Of goblins stalking in silky green,
Of milk-sheen froth upon the lace of hawthorn’s
Collar, pallor in the face of birchgirl.
So shall a homeless time, though dimly
Catch from afar (for soul is watchfull)
A sight of tree-delighted Eden.

~C.S. Lewis~

Monday, February 4, 2013

Three Words


I don't know. 
These three words, while never quite satisfactory, are pretty handy in a pinch. But it seems that I've come to a place in my life where they won't exactly work. Specifically, what I want to do with it, my life that is. I love the idea of being an artist, but for lack of talent this evades me. Therefore I've settled on the next best thing: a writer.
Now if you are reading this you know my grammar is mediocre at best, but placing obvious setbacks aside, the idea still pervades. Unfortunately however, and while I try to stifle it, practicality has come calling. The job market sucks for journalists and I want to have a family (and all that crap). These annoying facts have pushed me farther than I ever thought I would go; I switched my major to nursing (the most practical AND deplorable career imaginable). Now I know that helping people is an amazing opportunity, but is it worth the loss? I look at the nurses in my life and I slowly see them being desensitized. It seems to me that the value of life, or at least the emotions that are attached to life, are slowly sucked away. Is the promise of a job worth losing emotion? Or maybe it's the concept of hardship that I'm afraid of losing. Life sucks, and while that is a reality, it is also an idea. As long as I keep that idea at least partially foreign, I can diagnose it, I can pick apart individual themes such as loneliness and jealousy and pain, and these themes are what fuel my desire to write. You can't inspire anyone without unearthing the hardships that individuals must push through. But if I make suffering my living, I'll bombard myself with it. If all that I will see is pain and loneliness, I'll overload my system and at the end of the day I'll avoid it. I'll push my fuel to the side and there's a chance I may never write. Is it worth the loss?
I don't know.