Beneath the Silver Moon

      Over the course of my vacation to California, I have found myself experiencing a lot of different emotions. Not only have I had to come to grips with a few uncomfortable things, my emotions have helped me realize so much about myself. Emotion is so unpredictable, and although I feel the need to control my outward identity, my inward identity has been rocked out of control. If I lived my life as a river, up until this point I would have been damed up into a lake. Now that the dam has burst, I'm learning to direct my river of emotions to a place where I am able to control it again.

      Now this realization has lead me to another point: How much should I control my emotions? Emotion can be a hassle, and I for one have had to deal with some annoying feelings as a result. But on the other hand, emotion is what makes life interesting. Inspiration in many forms is influenced by our feelings. A band I've been listening to lately plays a song called "Tin Man", and it talks about missing the feeling of feeling, likening a lack of heart to the tin woodsman in the Wizard of Oz. The song points out how awful it would be to lose emotional reactions such happiness and joy. In this line of thought, could I ever control my emotions to a point where they weren't responsive anymore? That would be a disaster, life would lose its flavor. So my question is now: What balance of emotion will keep my life interesting, yet still manageable?

So Boss!

"'You? Who are you? How could you know anything of the matter?'

'My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't...'"

~Sherlock Homes~

in

"The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle"


I really need to start saying stuff like this

METRO MOTION!

She looks so good in red!

Hecks Yes!

New moozic folks! Enjoy! ----------------------------------------------------------------->

Neverland

     
I wish dreams were reality, and reality was a dream. Reality and the dream world create an interesting paradox. In reality, I experience things physically through the five senses; I live in a physical, external world. Right now I'm sitting in a physical chair and physically typing on a computer. Yet the largest struggles in reality aren't physical or external, they're internal. Although the outlying effects of my internal struggle may be physical (such as addiction), my battles are fought inside my mind, where I stand small against a large, evil willpower. In dreams however, my battles aren't manifested in what I fight inside my mind; in my dreams, I fight my battles physically. I'm no longer battling myself, instead, I fight the bogeyman. I no longer stand small against a large, evil willpower, my struggle is now whether or not I'll be able to swing from the mast of this pirate ship, to the cliff of that island. My battles are still a challenge, but if I put on a face of courage and pick up that gun, I'll be able to conquer the unseen danger hidden below me in the foggy swamp. My dangers aren't internal, I'm living an adventure with me the hero. In the safety of my bed I can be Robin Hood, Crocodile Dundee, and a pirate all in the same night. Valiant effort and brute strength combine to swing my sword at the enemy, and then, with my foes vanquished, I wake back up to my dreams. 

Prone to Wander

"Freedom from myself will be

the sweetest rest I've ever known."

~Chris Rice~

Tom Bombadil

"That night they heard no noises. But either in his dreams or out of them, he could not tell which, Frodo heard a sweet singing running in his mind; a song that seemed to come like a pale light behind a grey rain-curtain, and growing stronger to turn the veil all to glass and silver, until at last it was rolled back, and a far green country opened before him under a swift sunrise."

(J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring)

I want to write like this.