now that its broken
I suppose its time for building
now that its broken
I suppose its time for building

build till it breaks again
the cycle fulfilling
build till it breaks again
the cycle fulfilling

this time ill let go
this time but still care
this time ill start swimming
but not knowing where

what am I supposed to relax and accept
when breaking and building is all it is
what if it happens to everything except
that one part that keeps showing up

oh god I feel so inspired. I can do this. There is so much at once. I love you all.

You dont control the waves, you ride them.
When it takes me down, I'll breathe, and let it sink me.
And when it starts to rise, well, ill ride it high

and it will let me soar to wherever I want to go.

I

I
You said you saw a glimmer
No why ain't it shining

You make it look effortless
But not for lack of trying

I'm trying
To reach it
Is it you
That's not true
It's just me

Other people know about it
Sometimes it comes to pass
Can we read the same thing
And come up with different paths?

Sent from my iPod

Its like the closer I get to you
the further I get from me

Why, why does it have to be
why why why cant I be free
free and trapped in you and me
set that paradox free

is it so wrong to say
I would gladly dive inside of you
is there some kind of trick to this


I wonder, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder
time evades me,  I dont slumber


where did you come from?
when are you going?
how much of you
am I capable of knowing?

I suppose I could ask
the same of myself
its like the closer I get to me
the further away you seem

From a paper im writing

"

I recall a riddle heard in passing: if it were possible to do so, what would it mean to go to a doctor once a week and have a piece of your brain replaced with a synthetic functioning copy? If the procedure were done while you were conscious, and you repeated this process until no organic matter remained in your brain, when would you stop being you? The concept of the posthuman, an identity which transcends definition, a mind which transcends age, is a fundamental shift in our culture which technology is moving us towards at a rate we do not fully control. It is for this reason that we ought to at least be aware of its inevitability, so that the political will exists to make our reaction to these changes as reasoned as possible. "

another here and now one

"
how can I reach out
when nobody seems to
how can I reach out
when nobody seems to

Heres the truth
Im sentimental
Heres the truth
Ive loved you always
"
What do you want to take from me
I'd gladly walk until you found me

What sort of totem would this make me
when do the signs become the love, free

Have you ever wondered freely
about the times when love was hidden

Games and hiding
undeciding
but to feel it freely
what more is there, really?

Heres the truth
I've loved you always
Heres the truth
I need the pathways

that we're making
still frustrating
but perfect, imperfect
just not stuck waiting

Urgency, urgently
pulling, trading
feelings of reeling
fading, frustrating

The only thing
theres left to say
is loving this moment
is here to stay

just now, just today

"
sometimes when I accept you
my mind, it kind of takes
the long way round by saying
"you'll make your own mistakes"

what is the meaning of
what is the meaning of
what is the meaning of meaning, of meaning

sometimes when I am writing
the words fall fast and smooth
except when i'm not drinking
except, that not the truth

when we were singing of
times when the thinking love
brought meaning to the feeling, reeling

sometimes the times slip past me
sometimes where did they go
sometimes oh shit im dying
sometimes just let it go

what is the meaning of
what is the meaning of
what is the meaning of meaning, of meaning

when we were singing of
times when the thinking love
brought meaning to the feeling, reeling
"

Spur of the moment

"
God damn I cant stand
a pretty lady like you

you make me worry
about the things that I do


I'm fine when im not thinking about whatever you think about
about what you saw and how you felt when I...


You know I cant take
these goddamn moments

Counting heartbeats, racing flowcharts
through my head of what you said


and what does it mean and what can I say to that, just
what I see and how I feel when I...


God damn I will chase
every speck of you

Its not the way that I am
its just a thing that I do

God damn I will love
the fuck out of you

not just the way that I am
I am these things that I do

"

This was from just now.

"
When its hidden in reverb
Do you let it go?

Cause livin like this is bad for you
thats what I keep gettin told

Im wandering, wondering, glad to be
wandering, wondering, glad to be

Glad to be moving towards you
glad to be moving towards you

glad to be moving towards you
glad I'll never quite get there.

And if I hid it in reverb
would you let it sneak in?

Cause givin this love is hard to do
thats what makes me feel old

Cause when im wandering, pondering, tryin to
Give you the space I make use of to

To sit and think about times when I
would wonder no longer, I would just try

Statues of you, every day
Monuments to this moment, here to stay
"

Another one, it was the next page in my notebook. Cant remember the context for this one, either.

"
Are you tender?
cause I get sentimental
Are you tender?

Are you tender
Cause ive got things to tell you
Are you tender?

Its a little sad,
how distracted I get
by experiences I've had
Tender lovers don't forget

how much pain do you take
take on to trade someday

to

trade for this love
tender love, sentimental love.

Not sure when this is from

"
when it feels good,
you know
you know, it feels real good

and when its bad, we dont talk about that.
you and I wont speak of the deal we made


to cry out in joy, it requires a trade.

so catharsis, I guess, is a feeling you get
when it feels bad, you know
you know, it feels real bad

but you remember the deal, the plan, the trade
and embrace wihtout fear
cause the dark makes the brave.

You know you've got me walkin circles,
got me actin broody

Tryin to remind myself
theres more to life than beauty.

its makes me nervous that I love you
weak and silly like a child

it makes me nervous that I love you so
weak and silly like a child

what can be said, what is more plain
as simple as...

it makes me nervous that I worry so
weak and silly like a child!

Same batch.

"
Would I be ok
if you cast me away

what would it mean
when you cast me away

what would it mean, if
I would remain ok?

one minute I'm a quiet child
begging you to shake me

and yet sometimes I get so riled
Imploring you to break me!

maybe you dont care who
ends up loving you tonight

but I do, and its you
its a win-win for you, im sure

And where does that leave me
to be more free, it seems, than me
"

That last one and this one were written one night on a field with some hippies in victoria.

"
Is it hedonism?

is it a kind of peace

Is it carelessness

is it a safe place?


Am I in love with you
what am I in love with
when you go,

when I make you go.

Its a strange place there,
such a strange thing to say

I can will you to leave
but not to stay.

I said "dont fear your questions"
or its something I would say

but how can I make you leave
but no force can make you stay?

Isnt it strange, or is it strange.
this part of me is stuck that way.

Another one!

"
Empty eyes, you've got

empty eyes.

you've told me what you
think about people and things
but you've got

Empty eyes, you've got
empty eyes.

I am a child, that much is
clear, clear, clear

But you've got empty eyes
the kind that children fear.

Wrote this last night

"
yes, theres still that child in me.

yes, he still wants to walk to your room

through the snow

along the highway


yes, theres still that child in me,

but some days he feels a little tired.


he remembers reaching out and feeling it

he remembers you.


all of you, each of you,

every haphazard happenstance

every makeshift romance


and he still wants to walk to your room

to throw snowballs at your window

hoping your parents dont wake up

but hoping that you do
"

wrote this while practising Sleuth songs

"
I wanted a life

so I hitched on to yours

I wanted a life

so I hitched a ride on to yours

I wanted a new life

but I wanted yours more

so I hitched a ride on to yours

but you couldnt carry much more

it was too much to support, oh oh oh

how could you carry us both, oh oh

it was too much to support, oh oh oh.
"

Same weekend, more thoughts

"
Let me ask you a question
are you afraid to ask
a question, of me
like, "do you ever wonder
about the way things would be
if we had, another
set of circumstances
If we took our chances
chasing glances
asking strangers with promising faces
questions about alternate lifestyles and places, like,
"do you ever wonder..."

Another one from the same as the others! I think I wrote this one the day after.

"
Did I like you better
when we were walking over
to meet you
to see you

Cause when I'm walking
with your songs in tow
Its so soothing
I'm not intruding

And when we're standing
sometimes the doubts arise
How do I share it
when I can hardly bear it
on my own

This is just the way it goes
and so, and so, and so it goes.

My thoughts are clearer in this prose,
in this prose, in this prose

But can it compare to your effortless pose
in spite of, but heightened, by your choice of clothes

I like you both better
when I spend time with each of you.
"

more from that thing

"
Love is something I never deserve
Its better that way. Ill just build up the nerve
to earn it, be worth it, be perfect, but is it
the path I should walk on, or is it a problem
to think to deserve it is how it should be
or maybe there is something intrinsically
contingent on love being impossibly free

Its absurd
Beyond words
to feel this alive
theres something about it which cannot be contrived

yeah, something about it which I still cant describe.
"

same batch as before!

"
Its not that I hate you,
But I do, and I dont
and I do and I dont

Im compelled by things
and by things I mean you
and the things that compel you
which compel me too.

I'm compelled to ask you "why"
about a whole lot of things
like why is it messy when I try and sing
It seems easy for you, the way you take everything
inside me thats waiting and waiting to be born
did you reach down inside me? cause now I feel torn
"

blah blah blah Sleuth show blah blah

"
Baby, Ive got soul

I just know I Do
cause when I should be sleeping

Im writing songs about you.

Baby, I've got soul

Thats a guaranteed bet
cause I'm writing bout a Lady
That I havent met yet
"

Another one from the thing with the thing

"
If pain is
weakness
leaving the body

why dont I feel
stronger
now that youve left me.

If my best days are ahead
and today feels this good
Then there a future version of me
and hes smiling down at me.

Sometimes it feels so good
I can hardly bear to look
at you
cause drinking this feeling
Is more than I can do

yes, drinking this feeling
is simply too much to

Bear with me as I compose myself

Cause the thought of your face discerning me

You're charming, You've charmed me
I was starving myself
dishevelled, I struggled
Is it effortless for you?
If not, I am caught
cant hide it, its all you.
"

Yet another one from that concert

"
My love for you is like
a setlist on the floor

It guided me along
I do not need it anymore

I was using you, you know,
to help establish order

But the songs you used to feed me
confiscated at the border

Between your heart and my my mind,
you'll find,
a wall, made by me, of me,
for you.

This song for me is like
a puppet or a corpse

or something else uncanny
its familiar, but its worse

But when the moment's gone
You can have this dancing shadow

sewn together just for you
written lightly, sung loudly, flawed constantly,
a monument to you.
"

I (also) wrote this one at the Sleuth concert in vancouver.

"
what does it sound like?

It sounds like that time
when she was there
and everything worked
And I cant say why

no I cant say why
I cant say why
Cause the one time I tried
I felt barely alive

Im not supposed to know why
or it seem that way, cause
Its like I killed it, it died.

would you enjoy the dream

if you could tell what it means?

I mean, you felt like one,
a dream, I mean.

Its so much better
goddamn it so much
so much better
     Shapes, not letters
     Shapes, not letters
     shapes not letters
     I love you!
"

This one is also uncategorised from said notebook.

"
Trading notebooks

do you remember?

You hit me so hard

thats what I remember

Im so confused with

what should be, but

then, then I felt

Safter, more sure then
"

I cant remember when this one is from, but its in the same notebook as the ones from the vancouver show, so I figured I might as well put it up here. As a side note, I do not edit these at all. I just type out what I wrote down, which also wasnt edited. This blog is not me showing you (who are you, anyway?) stuff I consider perfectly formed or whatever, its just raw material. I tend to use these later on to make more fully formed things (songs, for example), but this is me sharing my first impression, sketches, and feelings with anyone and everyone.

"
I miss the girl who
Spoke to me on paper.

I miss writing back to her,
through the

notebook that  Im looking
through today.

I miss the comfort of the
the silence

Under the understanding
that was there

I miss the girl who
wrote love down on paper.
"

Another vancouver one! it was a stimulating trip.

"
You're right, I'm sorry

Im not there yet

But im trying, I'm trying

so dont you fret none

about me, you see, I'll find the answer

to that question I asked about finding the answer
"

Another one from vancouver:

"
BEAT THE NOTHING!
until something comes out...
BEG THE NOTHING!
for something to come out...
Ask for nothing
It wont let you
dont ask for anything
it will disappoint you
"

Ok, another one from my recent trip to vancouver:

"
SLEEP BECAUSE YOU ARE TIRED OF BEING AWAKE,
DREAM SO THAT THE MIND CAN PLAY,
WAKE BECAUSE OF CIRCLES CIRCLES,
CIRCLES, CIRCLES!
"

Wrote this and a bunch of other stuff at the Sleuth show tonight.

"
Baby, ive got soul
cause when I should be sleeping
I'm writing songs about you-

Baby, ive got soul
Thats a guaranteed bet
cause i'm writing about a lady
that I havent met yet
"

(Wrote this one yesterday and today)


"
things wont always be the way they've always been

thats what I told you (thats what it felt like then)

when the air is like a cool drink of water

and you said I wouldnt have to meet your father

cause your face is all

its all I see when

when I think of you

which I often do

if you only knew,

if you only knew!
"

Ok this is the first blog post that is actually a blog post in a while. Lets take some inventory, shall we? Who reads this blog? Basically noone, I think. Do I mind? Sometimes, sometimes not. What have I been doing lately? Well, in midmay I got on a bus and rode it for days until I get to my dad's house in North Carolina, and I spent some time with him. Then I spent sometime with some other family in Alabama, then I spent some time with some other family in South Carolina. Then I got an a bus and rode it for days until I got to my friend Shauna's house. Then I spent some time there, and now im in a hotel room, on the way back to canada, three months later. Those are the dry details. What did it feel like?

I dont even know!

Ahh. What I do know is that my mind has been dwelling on a few things while ive been gone. Its like I can see a version of myself I want to be clearly, and I am trying to reach out to it. but seeing it and feeling like I cant get there hurts. It hurts really bad! I cant use certain details out of respect for certain people, but ive been having a tough time lately. I feel sad but not hopeless. what does it mean to be sad but not hopeless? It means that life basically sucks and is difficult but I have no intention of giving up.

Its kind of like this
"
I would like to be relentless
but you would think it strange
that i can close my eyes like that
and dive into your face

I think about you often
what more is there to say, but
I think about you often
among the fleeting days


"


Fuck I dont know. I need to be surrounded by passionate people. 

I wrote this a while after meeting someone on a bus, about a week or so ago:

"
you feel it but you wont chase it
to scared to embrace it. 
you like your life, you are scared to replace it
with something you cant see clearly
yet you know you want it dearly

chase it, damnit, dont wait for it, it wont wait for you
you cant, you cant! you arent supposed to!
you want to see first where its leading you
you cant, you cant! you arent supposed to!

Enjoy the ride, dont wish it stayed 
did you really think you could have it both ways?
"

Well, I found a ridiculous attempt at writing fiction locked away on my computer somewhere. I THINK it was from when I was in high school. Here it is:

"

    In a town with a forgettable name, in a country with an irrelevant title, one man will learn to overcome an unforeseen obstacle. Erik was sitting alone, concentrating on something unknown. The room was dark; the only source of light came from a candle held in Erik's open hands. The candle didn't truly provide light; it merely turned the darkness into shadow.  Slowly, a distant noise was heard. The sound was a haunting Tap tap tap takka tap tap tap, as though someone was hitting a stick against the side of a wooden barn.
   Of course, Erik was not in a barn, so this sound seemed out of place. He concentrated on the sound, trying to figure out where it was relative to his position. It didn't really matter, though, because there was only one way into or out of this room. He was ready for what was to come, or at least as ready as possible. Erik stood up, drew his sword, and walked towards the door, completely focused on the sound outside. Unfortunately, Erik was unaware that what was outside didn't worry about trivial things like walls.

   Erik slumped, breathing heavily. He didn't expect an attack from anywhere other than the door, but thankfully his subconscious self (namely his reflexes) served him better than his conscious one. His sword was lodged in the creature's torso, but Erik lacked the strength to pull it out. Miraculously, there were no signs of injury on his body. Erik had managed to kill this unknown beast, but he knew that there was more to come.
   Erik closed his eyes, and focused his mind on his surroundings. Suddenly the hole in the wall that the beast came though grew wider, steadily opening until the whole wall ceased to exist. This of course led to the other three walls falling down, leaving him sitting cross-legged in a peculiar setting. Erik lost concentration as the warmth from the sun fell over his body. He opened his eyes, and found that he was on a hill. Standing up to look around, Erik's eyes were met with a beautiful panoramic landscape. All around him were hills identical to his, spread out over an endless landscape in an eerily symmetric fashion.
"This makes no sense!"
Silence.
"Where am I? What the hell is going on?"
Silence.
Calm down. Don't forget what you have been taught. Focus, React, and Overpower.

   Erik focused on the sound. Where is it coming from? He doesn't hear it, and none of his other senses detect anything. Its as if his mind had thought something, which he didn't ask for. All he knew was that he had to overcome whatever obstacle came his way, not because he felt any virtuous or moral obligation, but simply because the singularity of his surroundings suggested he didn't have any other choice. These pointless and cyclical thoughts would eventually drive Erik insane, but thankfully he sensed that danger was near; an opportunity to focus on something he could actually act on.

   He jumped straight upwards. As he came back down, he heard a hollow sound from the ground. Erik leaned down until his head was a few inches from the ground, and rapped on the ground with his fist. He heard the same hollow sound. Remembering his sword, he walked over to the corpse of the slain creature, examining it for the first time. It was humanoid in shape, but larger in the arms and legs. The overall effect given resembles a hairless gorilla wearing a leather suit. With some difficulty Erik dislodged his sword from the corpse, and walked back to the top of the hill.

    Erik raised his sword, and swung straight downwards. Just as the tip was about to hit the ground, Erik froze. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, in fact he couldn't even breathe. He wasn't in any pain, and aside from the fact that he was still aware of his surroundings, it seemed that time had stopped. Suddenly, Erik felt a familiar feeling. Someone was using his mind again.

    Good job. You didn't panic.  Now,  you are ready.  

    A flash of white light came across Erik's eyes, and he could move again. More importantly, he remembered. A flood of thoughts hit his mind, and Erik realized that everything that had happened recently was simply a test, set up by his teacher. Erik wasn't angry at his teacher for temporarily erasing his memory, or even for putting him in great danger. Now he was in tune with himself, able to improvise in even the most foreign situation. 

    Smiling to himself, Erik let his body be drawn back into reality, where he had much work to do.

"

should we be forced to face ourselves?

less than a minute ago:

"
and I get worried sometimes
and I get tired sometimes
and I get jealous sometimes
and I get mad sometimes

but I got you sometimes
and I get you sometimes
and you get me sometimes
and what more is there to say?

I had a dream where everything was worse
but then I woke up smiling

I had a dream where everything was worse
but then I woke up smiling

when you make me laugh theres nothing better
cause when im laughing theres nothing better
"

I wrote down some doubt a while back:

"
no one will ever love me as much as I want to be loved

what does it mean to say that?

why even share statements that feel like that to read?

I dont know.

it might not be possible for me to be understood and appreciated at the same time.

maybe moving closer to one distances you from the other.

its nice to have it, so nice, so nice that it leaves an imprint after its gone.

I dont know

the imprint does something, I dont know what it does, but right now it hurts.

What does it mean to wish it never happened?

I was made to create

too much freedom will kill you

"

again, stolen from a conversation

"
I know im projecting, but
you deserve to get caught up in something you think is bigger than you
to be a part of it
"

from a conversation recently:

"
life is short, so I cant do anything, life is short, so lets start doing everything right now
"

Here are some more drawings

I wrote this right now, in a bed, in canton, north carolina, halfdrunk, wistful, listening to Horn Of Plenty by Grizzly Bear.

"
sometimes I think its tragic when the world doesn't seem as great as I want it to be.
Then I remember that imagining an ideal which is wonderful and amazing was made possible by this world.

funny thing, that.
"

I pieced this together from conversations with an old friend and reflections thereof:

"

how long have we been talking about how we shouldnt be talking about what we talk about?

I want to be able to say to you and the world, "I am on to something and I am pursuing beauty and I am doing what I love to do."

I want that to pass away and for things to just slide nicely

I would always be there for you, if you wanted me to.

I would always be there for you, thats why you dont want me to.

And the child in me screams "arent I worth it?"
"

wrote this one about ten seconds ago:

"
this love was good
could it be better

that day was good
could it be better

your face looked good
could it be better

I dont need it
to be
"

here are some drawings ive done over the last while.

I know I wrote this one on the bus over!

"
We like to visit each other's lives

never stay

you promised your man

you wouldn't stay

when you're gone, im still with you

I'll never ever be alone,


your arms, your smell, its in my head.
thats more than I can handle

and I like it that way
yeah, its more than I can handle,
but I'm smiling all the way

your man, he never did nothing wrong

yet you're still here, you haven't gone

and I've got all I need...
"

I cant remember if I wrote this on the bus trip or after I had arrived, but I definitely wrote this in the past couple weeks:

"
I am a lucky man
my only burden, Ive had since birth.
To Love you for all I'm worth.

I am not ready,
Perhaps I never will be.
most of the time I do not feel free.

for what its worth
I love you.
For what its worth
I know how crazy that sounds.

so it goes.

I think I also wrote this one on the bus on the way over:

"
I said, "I can only exist in relation to you"
do I regret that I said it?
I meant what I said, when I said it, dont regret it.
I do not hide from the fears
through they do make me tired
they keep me honest and humble
and I love you more this way.
"

I wrote this on the bus trip to north carolina a week and a half ago:

"
Missing days
twisted ways
god I hope this time she stays

I know how to take a hint
but why would I want to?

If I could catch this thought
I'd have a way to show you

He is a sensualist
and I, a seeker of truth

This is not where we started
This is what it became

what does it mean when I tell you I'm struggling?

It means I'm struggling.

yes, but what does it mean?
"

hello! in the interest of being a little bit more organized/professional with these random ideas/words I write here, im going to try and make a habit of describing the context in which the words were written to the best of my ability beforehand. Without further ado,

I found this written in an old notebook of mine from march 5th, I think 2009, could be 2008. I could have sworn I had already posted it here, but a quick search shows I havent... so here it is!

"When something really interesting and/or important happens, its sad if you cant remember it afterwards, maybe. I just looked in my notebook and saw and entry a girl I used to date wrote. It triggers this whole experience, this really cool, strange, interesting, visceral experience that I may have never remembered again if she hadn't randomly written about it in this very notebook. It makes me see things differently when I think about it. What if animals experienced the same way we did? What if the only difference is that we learned how to store experiences in a way that lets us experience them again and again? Human cultures around the world were preserving memories; individual memories, cultural traditions, etc. The task of preserving experiences so that they outlast our transient minds is the heart of humanity. It is the sole thing that elevates us, separates us, and gives our lives meaning. Someone wrote that the tree fell, and even though I didn't see if fall, I can try to know how it feels to have heard it. "

t

t
it's like I always say

I'll love you till you leave

but I forgot to mention

my loving, it would seem

made you leave, now I see

I'm not the lovestruck martyr

that I led you to believe

a generation of lovestruck non-committal self-absorbed idealistic beautiful and disgusting wise children.

how would you feel if so many people loved you that you didnt have time to appreciate all of them?

d

d
those who identify as normal
those who get comfort from fitting in with a group

those who identify as strange
those who get comfort from persuing an idea

maybe these groups need each other.

maybe those who seek to conform conform to groups which were founded
by the ideas of a nonconformist.

maybe nonconformists need a litle persecution to hone thier passion,
give it a sense of urgency.

maybe.

u

u

I think you might be on something

versus

I think you might be on to something

Jesse Easter SLAV 334 Research Paper

This essay will be an exploration of Dostoevsky. Specifically, it will be an exploration of the differences between Dostoevsky as an author and Dostoevsky as a man. Different opinions, values, arguments, and attitudes expressed in his literature, compared with opinions, arguments, values, and attitudes expressed by Dostoevsky personally give us an insight into the tension between Dostoevsky and his literature. A question comes to mind: how did a man so conflicted, flawed, and ravaged by a tumultuous life create literary work which gives such pure, direct, and beautifully simple insights into our conception of love, morality, God, free will, and beauty?
In order to properly explore and then answer this question, we need to look at samples of Dostoevsky’s writing, and then see what we can glean from these samples about Dostoevsky the author. Next we need to look at direct quotes from Dostoevsky outside of his writing, and accounts of him written by people who knew him, and analyze what these sources tell us about Dostoevsky the man. This information will support a thesis that Dostoevsky's novels were among the first and the best to explore philosophical debate through narrative fiction. In failing in his attempt to write a novel which only advocated a conservative, Christian lifestyle, Dostoevsky actually wrote novels which give us an amazing understanding of all aspects of philosophy, rather than the one side Dostoevsky tried to advocate.
So, lets first take a look at some samples of Dostoevsky’s writing. From Notes From the Underground:
“Every man has some reminiscences which he would not tell to everyone, but only to his friends. He has others which he would not reveal even to his friends, but only to himself, and that in secret. But finally there are still others which a man is even afraid to tell himself, and every decent man has a considerable number of such things stored away. That is, one can even say that the more decent he is, the greater the number of such things in his mind.”
That this sample was taken from Notes from the Underground shows us that Dostoevsky is concerned with psychology. This sample shows us that Dostoevsky believes that a portion of our mind is hidden from most people, our friends, and even ourselves. He also claims that the more outwardly decent a person is, the more our thoughts and feelings lay hidden. Whether or not this is true, it shows us that Dostoevsky explores psychology through his novels, and that the claims he makes within those novels are thought-provoking.
Next, we have three short samples from The Possessed:
"If there is no God, then I am God."

“Life is pain, life is fear, and man is unhappy. Now all is pain and fear. Now man loves life because he loves pain and fear. That's how they've made it. Life now is given in exchange for pain and fear, and that is the whole deceit. Man now is not yet the right man. There will be a new man, happy and proud. He for whom it will make no difference whether he lives or does not live, he will be the new man. He who overcomes pain and fear will himself be God. And this [current] God will not be.”

“But do you understand, I cry to him, do you understand that along with happiness, in the exact same way and in perfectly equal proportion, man also needs unhappiness!"

These quotes show Dostoevsky’s exploration of the question of God and morality through his literature. The question of where morality comes from, the existence of God, and how God is related to morality form the core of Dostoevsky’s work, especially in later novels. The first quote essentially deconstructs the idea of God into its purest form; that is, the concept of the sacred. Therefore the quote argues that our conception of God, if not external, exists within us as the manifestation of our search for the sacred. The second quote explores this further, articulating how exactly a person can move from a philosophy of worship to a philosophy of self-mastery. Fear and pain, the character argues, are the core of mankind’s existence, and if those two things are overcome, man becomes God. The last quote is a rebuttal to the first one, claiming that man needs an equal proportion of happiness and unhappiness, and to simply remove fear and pain is absurd.
The previous sample (particularly the last quote) shows us that Dostoevsky can and does articulate both sides of the philosophical debates he explores. It is key to notice that Dostoevsky’s writing does not simplify the arguments of either side; he gives us as complete as possible a picture of both sides. This act separates Dostoevsky from other religious writers because Dostoevsky’s rigor in depicting both sides does not, at least on a topical reading, aid in the goal of converting readers to faith in God.
The final sample is a culmination of Dostoevsky’s journey into existentialism. From The Brothers Kamarazov:
"I believe that you are sincere and good at heart. If you do not attain happiness, always remember that you are on the right road, and try not to leave it. Above all, avoid falsehood, every kind of falsehood, especially falseness to yourself. Watch over your own deceitfulness and look into it every hour, every minute. Avoid being scornful, both to others and yourself. What seems to you bad within you will grown purer from the very fact that of your observing it in yourself. Avoid fear, too, though fear is only the result of falsehood. Never be frightened at your own faint-heartedness in attaining love. Don't be too frightened even at your evil actions. I am sorry I can say nothing more consoling to you, for love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams. Love in dreams is greedy for immediate action, rapidly performed and in the sight of all. Men will even give their lives if only the ordeal does not last long but is soon over, with all looking on and applauding as though on a stage. But active love is labour and fortitude, and for some people too, perhaps, a complete science."
This final sample gives us Doestoevsky’s philosophy at its most optimistic. The first section gives an exploration of “falsehood”, or lying. The key to this section is that, according Father Zossima, being conscious of your flaws and falsehoods is the key to overcoming them. Insight, not passion or deeds, becomes the key to morality in this case. The next section splits love into two categories: love in dreams and active love. Essentially, love in dreams is the ideal of love, or love as an ideal. This is the kind of love that arises from emotional passion and drives people to do impulsive, dramatic and otherwise grandiose acts in the name of the ideal of love, as long as the passion remains. This kind of love is a cause to be championed. It should also be noted that the sample depicts this kind of love as impermanent and fleeting. The other kind of love mentioned, active love, functions in an opposite matter. Referred to as “labour and fortitude”, active love requires patience and diligence.
An example of love in dreams could be any number of romantic comedies available at your local theatre. In romantic comedies, people who barely know each other become infatuated and do dramatic and outrageous things to profess their love for each other, and after a misunderstanding is overcome, are usually seen at the end of the movie happy and together. An example of active love would be what happens to the characters afterwards. Active love would be waking up beside your partner day after day for years, and being loyal, honest, kind, and respectful to your partner on an ongoing basis. The sample makes it seem as though active love is much harder to cultivate than love in dreams. If rising divorce rates are any indicator, this may be a relevant point.
Now that we have a general sense of the philosophy expressed through his literature, how does Dostoevsky the man compare to the ideas found in his work? Depending on your frame of reference, Dostoevsky’s life either mirrored his work, or occurred in spite of it. Dostoevsky was never rich, suffered from compulsive gambling, and spent four years working in a labour camp in Omsk, Siberia. Dostoevsky’s personal beliefs were more philosophical than political, evidenced by the fact that he had at various times denounced western-style capitalism and soviet socialism. His faith, however, was at once absolute and inquisitive. This was a man who doubted his own faith while keeping it. In his own words:
“I will tell you that at such moments one thirsts for faith as `the parched
grass, ' and one finds it at last because truth becomes evident in unhappiness. I
will tell you that I am a child of my century, a child of disbelief and doubt, I am
that today and (I know it) will remain so until the grave. How much terrible
torture this thirst for faith has cost me and costs me even now, which is all the
stronger in my soul the more arguments I can find against it. And yet, God
sends me sometimes instants when I am completely calm; at those instants I
love and I feel loved by others, and it is at these instants that I have shaped for
myself a Credo where everything is clear and sacred for me. This Credo is very
simple, here it is: to believe that nothing is more beautiful, profound, sympath-
etic, reasonable, manly, and more perfect than Christ; and I tell myself with a
jealous love that not only that there is nothing but that there cannot be
anything. Even more, if someone proved to me that Christ is outside the truth,
and that in reality the truth were outside of Christ, then I should remain with
Christ rather than with the truth (Pisma, edited and annotated by A.S. Dolinin,
4 vols. Moscow, 1928-1959, I:142, cited in Joseph Frank, Dostoevsky: The Years
of Ordeal, 1849-1859, Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1983, p. 160).”
This quote shows the difference between struggling with faith and struggling against it. Dostoevsky’s literature was the physical embodiment of his struggle with his faith, clashing atheistic and theistic principles together to find the shared morality within. Dostoevsky’s personal beliefs, however, were clearly theist and Christian, saying that if Christ were untrue, he would side with Christ rather than truth. His books, however, prove in their adept exploration of existentialism that Dostoevsky’s self-described “torture” of doubt is a blessing for anyone who reads his books; not in order to be convinced for or against faith, but simply to understand faith as a concept more clearly. Whether or not Dostoevsky envisioned his work to be loved by minds as diverse as Nietzsche and Einstein, obviously there is much to be learned from his work about man’s struggle with God, morality, love, and other existentialist issues.

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Do you ever get the impulse to encapsulate an epiphany you've had?

I wanna build a monument when I feel that way. something that lasts
until long after I've forgotten the feeling. the idea, the sentiment,
the clairity.

of course I have my monuments. my encapsulated versions of myself
where I found something worth keeping.

for example, this post is a monument to the realizationzdrxx

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I'm not saying that it's wrong
I'm not saying that it's right
you drew a line in the sand
and now I'm out of you're life

I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt sometimes
but musicians only advocate their side
still I'm wondering if I saw you try
cause god knows we all saw me try

I've got some selfish pain that I can't hide
goodbye

w

w
It's true somebody said it
maybe better than me

but they weren't standing here
and they weren't me

and if you need to ask the question
you need to say hello

cause there's nothing more boring
than those who claim to know

to ask a nervous question
like "what do you think of me?"

to face an uncertain future
and say "what could you be?"

the fear that isn't fear
you feel when you are shaking

it's when you've found something
it's hidden in what we're making

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o
I used to work on handling it better

when I should have been killing it

you can't reach into your pocket

if you ripped out the seam

don't give up on giving up
sometimes it's the best way to make it

please Jesse

I love you but you've got to let yourself be

don't be ashamed, just be

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of course we are gods;
we can imagine!

of course we are imperfect;
we can imagine!

of course we are disappointed;
we can imagine!

of course we are doomed to change;
we can imagine.

of course we are driven;
we can imagine.

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imagine the moment spent upon waking
the cusp between dream and consiousness
to know you are awake
to know you are awake and alive
to know that and nothing else
not who you are,
not where you are,
nothing.
this place without names does not have a name.
it is
serene.

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j
and the wind blew it down
it blue our love down
and the sky, blue, tried
to remind me of the times
that you said to me, and to you,
"I love you dearly"
like the wind, the sky, and your eyes,
you spoke so clearly
and your eyes, and the sky, and mine
are blue and feeling
and the times that would fly us around
were filled with feeling
it's a tribute, I make a sound
cause my mind is reeling

The moon.
The sand.
That was perfect.
I was flawed,
you were not the same.
But the moon, the sand,
that was real.

Art isnt beautiful because it is scarce, it is beautiful because it encapsulates the overwhelming beauty we all live with in every day. Every single day we experience hundreds of thousands of beautiful things. I am so overwhelmed by the beauty surrounding me. It is everywhere. There is so much that the act of encapsulating one single part of it is difficult not because there is a lack of material to draw from, but because everything I go through is filled with so much meaning (positive AND negative) that there is simply not enough time to crystalize one part of it. Does that mean that to make amazing art you need to detach from life long enough to isolate the one part of it you want to identify as beautiful? I do not know!

It is not a crime of passion,

It is an acceptance

The music, drifting, throbbing, reminds me

I still love you, all of you.

It is a crime

that I do not have time

to build a sacred shrine

to you, to us,

to every single memory.

a shrine for every one!

So I build my imperfect shrines

monuments to you

in awe of every moment

can you hear my adulation!

can you hear my concoction

equal parts love, anger, fear, joy

above all, I am humbled

we built something larger

larger than both of us

a monument, standing

a shrine, lasting.

I would like to keep building

its why I keep smiling

smiling, building a feeling.

Sex offenders. no one likes them, and many people carry a kind of hatred for them that is more emotional than for any other kind of criminal, and for good reason. Horrible things done to the most vulnerable people: children. But what if our emotional anger towards sex offenders is actually making our societies less safe for children? We spend more on trying to keep convicted sex offenders away from children (and failing despite how much we spend) than we do on working towards safer families. Because the overwhelming majority of the time, child molestation happens in the family.

if we all reserve the right to lie,
as im sure we all must do,
ive got reservations about using mine
im scared of losing track of you
losing track of whats true
as true as I can do
for you
for you
for me
and for you.

if you've got a love, why dont you feed it?

and ive loved a face because that face

made me feel a certain way

you know its a sin to fall in love with a face

and yet I see it to this day, this way

yes ive got no right to be here
yes ive got no right to say

but have I told you that I wonder
yes I wonder every day

and have I told you that I love you
yet I wonder every day

and have I told you that I wonder
yet I love you to this day

im so lucky, ive been writing music effortlessly lately. its like when im not playing music, there is this section of my brain thats just always experimenting with sound in the background. for the last 5 consecutive days ive woken up with a fully formed song stuck in my head that I wrote in my sleep! Literally every day ive felt aimless, picking up my guitar has just been this eruption. I've had a lot of thought-provoking experiences in the last week, parties with new friends, parties with even newer friends, and parties with other new friends. Three distinct social groups whom dont know each other, each with a different dynamic. As long as I pay the bills and get good grades and remember to pick up a guitar when im restless, and have someone to talk to sometimes, I think I will be set for the foreseeable future.

I remember a time when I imagined how I would affect you

I remember that time, I wanted control

Now I the more I think about it

Affecting itself feels serene

So pretty early on in my life I realized that I shouldn't expect everyone else to do what I think they should do. In general believing in your perception of what is right for people strongly enough to override their perception of what is right for themselves will get you into a lot of trouble, and it almost always doesn't work, either cause you in fact didn't have the right answer, or because even if you did, the act of telling them you do does more harm than good.

So to sum that up, try not to hold people accountable to your personal values to heavily, as theirs may be different, and they have a right to have different values.

But here's where things get tricky...

What about their stated values? What happens when someone tells you they will do something, and they don't? What happens when someone can't be held accountable to their own professed values or actions?

I suppose ideally I could accept people for whoever they are, even if who they say they are doesn't line up with what they do. I've always had a hard time with this. I have a hard time forgiving people for not taking responsibility for their own actions, especially when the responsibility is simply admitting that by their own stated values they made a mistake. I also want to get better at forgiving once they have admitted their mistake of course, but I at least CAN do that. Accepting people who lie, cheat, or steal, is something I've always struggled with.

why face your fears when describing how hard it is to face them is so useful?

an uncomfortable truth revealed and resolved is much less interesting to read on paper than someone writing about how uncomfortable and unresolved they feel.

Consider this: What makes you sure that what im writing right now isnt some kind of poem? Or, if you werent sure, what makes it less poetic-sounding than, say, wordsworth?

Ambiguity sells. And its a great way to enthrall, inspire, and experience a feeling without the negativity that comes with facing the complexity.

Trouble is, life is more complicated than any allusion to an experience found in books, movies, music, poetry. Before you ever figure out what situation A meant, youve already had situations B-Z fly by.

So make an educated guess, and maybe thats enough. But what does "educated" mean? To me, it means instead of hiding from something that bothers you, hoping you forget about it, you bite your lip, look it right in the eye, and dare yourself to overcome.

Because in my modest time, i've learned that lying to yourself is a waste of time. If you dont live up to your values, change your lifestyle, or change your values.

And remember, you will be able to tell if you cheated.

I am a man
I am self-aware
And everywhere I go
You're always right there with me
I flirted with you all my life
Even kissed you once or twice
And to this day I swear it was nice but
Clearly, I was not ready

When you touched a friend of mine
I thought I would lose my mind
But I found out with time that
Really, I was not ready.

Oh death
Oh death
Oh death
Really, I'm not ready

Oh death you enter me
Death's unmade those dear to me
And tease me with your sweet relief
You're cruel and you are constant

When my mom was cancer sick
She fought, but then succumbed to it
But you made her beg for it
Lord Jesus, please I'm ready

Oh death
Oh death
Oh death
Really, I'm not ready

Oh death
Oh death
Oh death
Clearly, I'm not ready

Groovy and cathartic

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGUcS5Auiac

I'll not use incoherence to hide the fact that I dont know what im doing.
Acting as if im on to something while intentionally being vauge so that I dont have to admit that im just as lost as anyone else is probably a great way to write a book or a song. That way, I can convey the feeling that I am some sort of prophet. The act of saying "im on to something" without letting the listener/consumer know that I dont know what it is allows them to assume I do. And Im not going to let that happen. Ill be as unsure as anyone, because a broken and half-expressed truth means more to me than a beautiful, all-encompassing, elegantly formed lie.

I am a musician! I just know it! I have so much to say. I fucking love every single one of you. Whenever I meet a new person, my mind explodes. I perceive all these possible futures where all these different incredible relationships exist between me and that person. I see them so vividly that it gets distracting from time to time. I get so fucking overwhelmed. Most of the time if im not expressing how important a person is to me, its because I worry about being pushy or something. but I love! SO MUCH! I have so much love inside.