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#alan
~ July 2024 HP Poet: Gregory Alan Johnson Age: 69 Country: USA Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, G Alan. Please tell us about your background? Gregory Alan Johnson: *"I grew up in a suburb of Cleveland, Ohio called Brook Park. Son of a US Steel customer service rep and a law firm receptionist, both alcoholics. Outside of the occasional chaos and abuse of having alcoholic parents, I suppose I had a fairly normal upbringing. I loved reading, art and baseball in that order. After graduating high school, I got a job as an auto mechanic apprentice. I fell in with a motley crew of reprobates, in which the pursuit of ***** drugs and girls was of the utmost importance. Amid this swirling of foolishness I also incessantly drew and wrote poetry in journal after journal. After 2 years I had assembled enough of a portfolio to be accepted into Cooper School of Art in 1974. Here I fell in with another group of ne'er-do-wells, but this crew was of a deeper variety; intellectuals, artists of course, and thinkers, all fueled by the seventies drug scene. It made for some very interesting days. I dropped out of art school after a year and a half, having learned pretty much all I needed to, and being thoroughly disgusted with the contemporary art scene which was populated with smug know-it-alls. (Laziness and a lack of discipline may have had something to do with it as well, but my current work reflects my disdain for these types and what they consider to be "good"). I ended up with a steady job as a warehouse manager, god help me, but always hanging with the eccentric creatives. I called this tribe the "levy Group" after fifties Cleveland beat poet and lunatic d.a. levy. This group may have made an impact on the Cleveland arts scene, if we didn't place so much emphasis on getting ****** and ******** off. But it resulted in some really amazing creative moments and would inform my work for the rest of my life. I got married in 1980 if you can believe it, I still don't, and proceeded to raise a family. I was a part time free-lance illustrator and cartoonist, as well as working my full time job as a "manager". All during this time I wrote poetry and created artwork that I showed to NOBODY. I was in the midst of becoming a chronic alcoholic dealing with crushing depression, all the while showing the world a happy face, and this art turned out to be deeply therapeutic, but dark and strange...confronting my shadows, if you will. I managed to raise three boys, who seemed to turn out pretty well in spite of me, but my alcoholism was taking me over. After several breakdowns and some suicide attempts, I finally got sober in 2004. I remain sober today. I love it. I retired in 2021 after having several scintillating logistics jobs, and decided to become a full-time creative artist. I have had some success doing this, including 3 solo shows. The arts center that was hosting one of my shows actually put up a billboard for it, as surreal a moment as you can get. My work is displaying in galleries in Cleveland and Columbus, and I've even sold a few. I have won "Best of Show" in three different exhibitions, which I can't quite grasp. I am an active member of the Ohio Poetry Association and have been published in three anthologies, and a couple on-line lit mags. I've never pursued publishing a book. I think my poetry is okay, but I'm an artist first. I am hosting an ekphrastic poetry event at my home gallery in Willoughby Ohio this month, which I'm really excited about. And of course I write on this site, which I love."* Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry? Gregory Alan Johnson: "I have been writing poetry since the age of 18, having been inspired by E.E. Cummings. I wrote and illustrated hundreds of poems in scores of art journal books. The majority of these were destroyed in a flood about ten years ago. I managed to salvage three. I have been a member of HP since 2019." Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you). Gregory Alan Johnson: *"I just write. Like my art, my muse sort of taps me on the shoulder. When that happens, I delve deep. There is rarely any theme, it's mostly stream of consciousness. Sometimes I play with rules of verse, but I prefer free verse, which is more fun. I rarely rhyme. When I do, it sounds too much like Dr. Seuss, so I leave that to the other poets here. I tend to reminisce, I suppose because I'm pushing 70. I hardly edit except for spelling, and just hit "save" and put it out there. This ****** off some of my more accomplished poet friends, who labor over their work until beads of blood appear on their foreheads. But I always tell them that I don't take my poetry seriously, to which they scoff with derision...and smile."* Question 4: What does poetry mean to you? Gregory Alan Johnson: "I have come to realize that the act of being a living human being is profound and miraculous. We are surrounded by incredible things all the time. There is no mundane. There is no boredom. When I contemplate this for even a second I am overwhelmed. All poets understand this instinctively. And I don't mean life is all la dee dah happy time. It can be terrifically terrible and incredibly wonderful, with an infinity of shades in between. We as poets have this thirst to describe all this; most of us feel a deep obligation to do so. And we fall miserably short, which fuels us to try again. And again. We attempt to describe the indescribable, and explain the inexplicable." Question 5: Who are your favorite poets? Gregory Alan Johnson: *"First, my favorites on HP: Anais Vionet, you Carlo, S Olson, Melancholy of Innocence, Thomas W Case, BLT, patty m, Marshall Gebbie (that wonderful coot), Lori Jones McCaffery, William J Donovan, Jamadhi Verse, Old poet MK, N, John Edward Smallshaw, and so many others, but these names popped right out.. This site houses some amazing talent. As for the stars: d.a. levy, EE Cummings, Anne Sexton, EVERY SINGLE BEAT POET, but most especially William Burroughs, Charles Bukowski, Keats, Robert Miltner, Mary Oliver, Bob Dylan, Oscar Wilde, Dylan Thomas and Leonard Cohen."* Question 6: What other interests do you have? Gregory Alan Johnson: "I read voraciously. I'm currently reading "Hotel Utopia" by poet Robert Miltner, "Slick Wrist" by poet Morgan Renae Mat, " A Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole (for I guess the tenth time), and "The Fourth Turning" by Neil Howe and William Strauss. I am consumed by my art career with continuing shows and submissions, some for which I am rejected, which keeps me grounded. I spend a lot of time being a grandpa, doing yard work and staring out the window. I meditate daily." Carlo C. Gomez: “A big thank you for allowing us this opportunity to get to know the man behind the poet, G Alan! We are honored to include you in this ongoing series!” Gregory Alan Johnson: "Thank YOU Carlo. I appreciate your support of poets!" Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Gregory Alan Johnson a little bit better. I most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez We will post Spotlight #18 in August! ~
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Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 10:57 AM UTC
HP Writers Spotlight: Gregory Alan Johnson
~ July 2024 HP Poet: Gregory Alan Johnson Age: 69 Country: USA Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, G Alan. Please tell us about your background? Gregory Alan Johnson: *"I grew up in a suburb of Cleveland, Ohio called Brook Park. Son of a US Steel customer service rep and a law firm receptionist, both alcoholics. Outside of the occasional chaos and abuse of having alcoholic parents, I suppose I had a fairly normal upbringing. I loved reading, art and baseball in that order. After graduating high school, I got a job as an auto mechanic apprentice. I fell in with a motley crew of reprobates, in which the pursuit of ***** drugs and girls was of the utmost importance. Amid this swirling of foolishness I also incessantly drew and wrote poetry in journal after journal. After 2 years I had assembled enough of a portfolio to be accepted into Cooper School of Art in 1974. Here I fell in with another group of ne'er-do-wells, but this crew was of a deeper variety; intellectuals, artists of course, and thinkers, all fueled by the seventies drug scene. It made for some very interesting days. I dropped out of art school after a year and a half, having learned pretty much all I needed to, and being thoroughly disgusted with the contemporary art scene which was populated with smug know-it-alls. (Laziness and a lack of discipline may have had something to do with it as well, but my current work reflects my disdain for these types and what they consider to be "good"). I ended up with a steady job as a warehouse manager, god help me, but always hanging with the eccentric creatives. I called this tribe the "levy Group" after fifties Cleveland beat poet and lunatic d.a. levy. This group may have made an impact on the Cleveland arts scene, if we didn't place so much emphasis on getting ****** and ******** off. But it resulted in some really amazing creative moments and would inform my work for the rest of my life. I got married in 1980 if you can believe it, I still don't, and proceeded to raise a family. I was a part time free-lance illustrator and cartoonist, as well as working my full time job as a "manager". All during this time I wrote poetry and created artwork that I showed to NOBODY. I was in the midst of becoming a chronic alcoholic dealing with crushing depression, all the while showing the world a happy face, and this art turned out to be deeply therapeutic, but dark and strange...confronting my shadows, if you will. I managed to raise three boys, who seemed to turn out pretty well in spite of me, but my alcoholism was taking me over. After several breakdowns and some suicide attempts, I finally got sober in 2004. I remain sober today. I love it. I retired in 2021 after having several scintillating logistics jobs, and decided to become a full-time creative artist. I have had some success doing this, including 3 solo shows. The arts center that was hosting one of my shows actually put up a billboard for it, as surreal a moment as you can get. My work is displaying in galleries in Cleveland and Columbus, and I've even sold a few. I have won "Best of Show" in three different exhibitions, which I can't quite grasp. I am an active member of the Ohio Poetry Association and have been published in three anthologies, and a couple on-line lit mags. I've never pursued publishing a book. I think my poetry is okay, but I'm an artist first. I am hosting an ekphrastic poetry event at my home gallery in Willoughby Ohio this month, which I'm really excited about. And of course I write on this site, which I love."* Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry? Gregory Alan Johnson: "I have been writing poetry since the age of 18, having been inspired by E.E. Cummings. I wrote and illustrated hundreds of poems in scores of art journal books. The majority of these were destroyed in a flood about ten years ago. I managed to salvage three. I have been a member of HP since 2019." Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you). Gregory Alan Johnson: *"I just write. Like my art, my muse sort of taps me on the shoulder. When that happens, I delve deep. There is rarely any theme, it's mostly stream of consciousness. Sometimes I play with rules of verse, but I prefer free verse, which is more fun. I rarely rhyme. When I do, it sounds too much like Dr. Seuss, so I leave that to the other poets here. I tend to reminisce, I suppose because I'm pushing 70. I hardly edit except for spelling, and just hit "save" and put it out there. This ****** off some of my more accomplished poet friends, who labor over their work until beads of blood appear on their foreheads. But I always tell them that I don't take my poetry seriously, to which they scoff with derision...and smile."* Question 4: What does poetry mean to you? Gregory Alan Johnson: "I have come to realize that the act of being a living human being is profound and miraculous. We are surrounded by incredible things all the time. There is no mundane. There is no boredom. When I contemplate this for even a second I am overwhelmed. All poets understand this instinctively. And I don't mean life is all la dee dah happy time. It can be terrifically terrible and incredibly wonderful, with an infinity of shades in between. We as poets have this thirst to describe all this; most of us feel a deep obligation to do so. And we fall miserably short, which fuels us to try again. And again. We attempt to describe the indescribable, and explain the inexplicable." Question 5: Who are your favorite poets? Gregory Alan Johnson: *"First, my favorites on HP: Anais Vionet, you Carlo, S Olson, Melancholy of Innocence, Thomas W Case, BLT, patty m, Marshall Gebbie (that wonderful coot), Lori Jones McCaffery, William J Donovan, Jamadhi Verse, Old poet MK, N, John Edward Smallshaw, and so many others, but these names popped right out.. This site houses some amazing talent. As for the stars: d.a. levy, EE Cummings, Anne Sexton, EVERY SINGLE BEAT POET, but most especially William Burroughs, Charles Bukowski, Keats, Robert Miltner, Mary Oliver, Bob Dylan, Oscar Wilde, Dylan Thomas and Leonard Cohen."* Question 6: What other interests do you have? Gregory Alan Johnson: "I read voraciously. I'm currently reading "Hotel Utopia" by poet Robert Miltner, "Slick Wrist" by poet Morgan Renae Mat, " A Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole (for I guess the tenth time), and "The Fourth Turning" by Neil Howe and William Strauss. I am consumed by my art career with continuing shows and submissions, some for which I am rejected, which keeps me grounded. I spend a lot of time being a grandpa, doing yard work and staring out the window. I meditate daily." Carlo C. Gomez: “A big thank you for allowing us this opportunity to get to know the man behind the poet, G Alan! We are honored to include you in this ongoing series!” Gregory Alan Johnson: "Thank YOU Carlo. I appreciate your support of poets!" Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Gregory Alan Johnson a little bit better. I most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez We will post Spotlight #18 in August! ~
Continue reading...
25
Remember Eternal silence Before the breaking light The trees outside With all their color With all my color Tumbling down Decaying Into black and white A sinking feeling Origin unknown Fleeting dreams (Some mine, some not) Absurdity moves through us Random thoughts collecting In the gutters of my mind Meaningless Noise Concealed within a single teardrop Falling from a roof top The final step The last breath
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Nov 10, 2021
Nov 10, 2021 at 11:18 PM UTC
Eternal Silence
Cloud and water Is a way of thinking Of presumptive of being Which calms the minds Of those who see shadows In every corner And demons in every shadow alike Cloud and water And perfectly shapen sky
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Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 6:17 PM UTC
It's True Anyway
A dither of doubt Doesn't do justice to this To the self inflicted wound of how Carved out like wood And collapsed like stone The engraving is known And read often aloud To a mind bent on listening To such wavering doubts
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May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 9:01 PM UTC
Dear Alan Watts
So if you really go the whole way and See how you feel about the prospect of vanishing forever If all your efforts and all your achievements and All your attainments, turning into dust Into nothingness.. What is the feeling? What happens to you? It's a curious thing The most real state is the state of nothingness That's what it's all going to come to
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Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 3:33 AM UTC
What is the Feeling?
Your skin was flawless, I'm so pale My life is a mess, yours was a fairy tale Your voice was perfect While mine sounds incorrect You used to shine so bright I run from the light I'd still could make you like me, I bet It's such a waste that we have never met But you went to a better place in two thousand sixteen And I keep living here, where people are so mean Yet, sir, wherever you are You'll always be my favorite star
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Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 3:39 AM UTC
To Alan
...I couldn't help but to stare blankly at your white, emotionless face... The last time I saw you... You had a light full of joy and grace... But to see that light now gone from you body left a taste of melancholy A hood of sorrows is what hid my bitter sweet tears from them and you, what folly... Before my aching heart could leave your presence, your eyes opened... Your heart startled by a hug, your eyes gazed around at all of us, an opportunity, I was hope'n You stared straight into my black stained waterfall and spooked me When your pale, cold hand, with quickness, grabbed my hand.. and begged me not to leave.. It shook... I could feel and count every bone you used... with the little muscle strength you had... My body trembled at your white, thin, Skeleton hand... Stabbed by the reality of loss...the insecurity was bad.. I felt so troubled and helpless... Since there was nothing from me you could gain... "Alan...Linard...." was the last thing I heard, the last thing she said... it was her husband's name... 6 days later... 9:15pm, July 2nd, 2018...for the first time... I watched Some breath their last... and finally die... Puzzled by how quick and peaceful a painful image thing can be.... It felt so deceitfully wrong... but I knew it was..right.. Donna... You wouldn't come back... even if you could.. you wouldn't You in a place of paradise... pure perfection... I wont lie... I miss you.. but I know you could never return... you couldn't..
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Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 4:46 AM UTC
When a Skeleton Grabbed My Hand...
There is one big illusion We have a spacious room, where you are living on your own Filled with perception The concept of identity that you know The limited illusion of the self It only creates confusion Because now we’re separated from eachother Though we think it’s not We only have to learn to Let the e-go
0
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
Illusion
They said they wanted to take the molars of Those fleeing danger that they had escaped By the skin of Then leave the reward of sanctuary beneath their pillow whilst they slept As if they weren't having trouble enough already With where to rest their weary heads They said the rewards were many And wanted to make completely certain They weren’t being too generous Because giving gifts gives rise to greed So they decided to take the teeth And ensure those safety seekers Knew exactly what being bitten means And those who sought for something more? Those bitten by these charitable actions as much by war Their wounds didn't heal And they found sores on weary feet To find they had grown hungry mouths there too The shoes that ate the distance beneath their step Yielding bite marks as footprints and yet They stored safety as a promise In between records and held up blue plaques aloft That said "I was not born here on this date But I belong here" and I've history and a home to make But for all the shiny pennies that they saved up in a jar The princess dentists could still feel each Generous donation, milky beneath their mattress And each asylum seeker kept them up And we clean teethed few, who always knew to brush For three minutes before bed Lucky by grace of birth, seas and a few miles more Looked at these dentists questioning but they shook their head Warned us of the toothache of their seeming sweetness So tell us about dental hygiene how to floss lies from our gums or else wait for all our teeth to fall out Have them taken from beneath our pillows Where we had gracefully saved them like we were told to Constructed into fortresses Utilized the tooth extraction cotton buds as comforting ear plugs and pulled the wool over our eyes Let’s wait until our retirement Till we realise the Toothfairy wants our bones Not just our molars and we pushed away those who only needed The chance of rest and the chance of somewhere new and safe to show us how to smile So brush your teeth tonight And be thankful you will never know that those who turn away from you Will do so, because your breath Still stinks of all the **** you so readily eat.
0
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
Toothfairy
They said they wanted to take the molars of Those fleeing danger that they had escaped By the skin of Then leave the reward of sanctuary beneath their pillow whilst they slept As if they weren't having trouble enough already With where to rest their weary heads They said the rewards were many And wanted to make completely certain They weren’t being too generous Because giving gifts gives rise to greed So they decided to take the teeth And ensure those safety seekers Knew exactly what being bitten means And those who sought for something more? Those bitten by these charitable actions as much by war Their wounds didn't heal And they found sores on weary feet To find they had grown hungry mouths there too The shoes that ate the distance beneath their step Yielding bite marks as footprints and yet They stored safety as a promise In between records and held up blue plaques aloft That said "I was not born here on this date But I belong here" and I've history and a home to make But for all the shiny pennies that they saved up in a jar The princess dentists could still feel each Generous donation, milky beneath their mattress And each asylum seeker kept them up And we clean teethed few, who always knew to brush For three minutes before bed Lucky by grace of birth, seas and a few miles more Looked at these dentists questioning but they shook their head Warned us of the toothache of their seeming sweetness So tell us about dental hygiene how to floss lies from our gums or else wait for all our teeth to fall out Have them taken from beneath our pillows Where we had gracefully saved them like we were told to Constructed into fortresses Utilized the tooth extraction cotton buds as comforting ear plugs and pulled the wool over our eyes Let’s wait until our retirement Till we realise the Toothfairy wants our bones Not just our molars and we pushed away those who only needed The chance of rest and the chance of somewhere new and safe to show us how to smile So brush your teeth tonight And be thankful you will never know that those who turn away from you Will do so, because your breath Still stinks of all the **** you so readily eat.
Continue reading...
53
No sé hasta cuando te voy a amar Pero hasta entonces lo voy a disfrutar Compartimos mucho tiempo juntos Contigo volando se iban los minutos Y aunque ya no estés aquí conmigo Te pensaré aunque ni seas mi amigo Viviré por un rato con este cariño Admirar de lejos tu sonrisa de niño Como si nunca hubiera pasado nada Y desde el principio sola yo enamorada
0
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 1:13 AM UTC
Quiero
The cuts and scars are nothing new They have just gotten deeper You say this won't happen again This time you will put and end to it But the hatred in your eyes say different Your words sink deep in my soul But your punches hit harder And you enjoy every moment of my hurt Later you say sorry and you care "I'm so sorry baby, I won't be like everyone else" "Will you forgive me if I say sorry" "I still love you, you mean everything to me" But that's the saddest of it all You don't love me I know I deserve better A part of me enjoys the pain though Because the pain The pain Is the only thing I can Keep holding on to live anymore
0
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 5:51 AM UTC
Take me back
I looked at you For far too long To be able to distinguish it From an eternal love And yet it was so short I'll keep being reborn Until you realise How it is your breaths that hold my life You shone For far too long To get the envious eyes Of everyone we have ever known And yet it was too short My heart wrote you a poem But I could not get the words out of chest Soon enough A silver doe Showed me a way Out of the misery I had wove around myself Long enough till it was properly gotten rid of But just when I turned to caress it I saw its light fade in the sunlight Your dark eyes A mystery in their own, intimidated I stood still Reading into your shadow And just when I mustered up my courage To ask your name You exploded And that is how stars were born.
0
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 12:30 AM UTC
For Snape/Alan.
It takes a lot of courage to lie and be looked at as an evil being even though you are just doing it for the safety of others
0
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
Severus Snape
The lily of life, full of humility and devotion - the beautiful kind that everyone would choose to pick from the fields I think you'll find. One who defied the definition of a heroic inspiration, your talent outshone all others; you caused quite the sensation. You tenaciously grasped onto your stem of life with the insidious poison of demise within your cells rife, your colours darkening and fading away, and yet you remained God's most beautiful creation each and every day. As your petals fluttered down, by your side was your wife while you heart-wrenchingly closed the circle of your life. Now, we all shall miss watching you bloom through the days and we will remember you, forever and ALWAYS .
0
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
Alan; our Lily of Life
The world is a system of interrelated components None of which can survive without each other Just as in the case with bees and flowers They arise mutually Mutual arising Things go together in a connected net The whole conception of nature Is a self regulating mechanism It has a totality It all goes together This totality is the Tao The more you allow things in your surroundings to take place The more order you will have
0
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
Taoist Way of Karma
I believe we are all innately energy. Energy can never be destroyed, but is subject to constant restructuring it's design while ever leaning towards entropy. How we can inadvertently give a part of ourselves that is then influenced and redesigned even further by the power of someone else's conscious mind, and then eventually spread so far and thin that it's as if we were never there beyond the grave as time passes. Beyond recognition. Take for example the lives we engage ourselves in. Have you ever sat down and said your name, given yourself an assessment of who you are today? Who you feel you are becoming through your actions and desires? Do you remember who you were years ago, or who you thought you might have been but had no possible way of ascertaining? We can't see the future (very far), but our imaginations allow us to dive in to possible futures based on our own self-cognitive intuition, desire, and furthermore by experiences of déjà vu. there are theories suggesting that our minds are so powerful that we send out electromagnetic impulses unconsciously which very well affect the world around us. I've had profound epiphanies like this a few times in my life, and it makes me think about my avoidance to be engaged in the present. And memory is biased towards our desire as well. We can repress our thoughts, blur years of experience, or forget them entirely. With all this said, I would like to end with a George R. R. Martin quote which concludes my belief that we are all inherently and innately forms of all types of energy, because for most, this is true. "Men live their entire lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come."
0
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Re: The Real You
I believe we are all innately energy. Energy can never be destroyed, but is subject to constant restructuring it's design while ever leaning towards entropy. How we can inadvertently give a part of ourselves that is then influenced and redesigned even further by the power of someone else's conscious mind, and then eventually spread so far and thin that it's as if we were never there beyond the grave as time passes. Beyond recognition. Take for example the lives we engage ourselves in. Have you ever sat down and said your name, given yourself an assessment of who you are today? Who you feel you are becoming through your actions and desires? Do you remember who you were years ago, or who you thought you might have been but had no possible way of ascertaining? We can't see the future (very far), but our imaginations allow us to dive in to possible futures based on our own self-cognitive intuition, desire, and furthermore by experiences of déjà vu. there are theories suggesting that our minds are so powerful that we send out electromagnetic impulses unconsciously which very well affect the world around us. I've had profound epiphanies like this a few times in my life, and it makes me think about my avoidance to be engaged in the present. And memory is biased towards our desire as well. We can repress our thoughts, blur years of experience, or forget them entirely. With all this said, I would like to end with a George R. R. Martin quote which concludes my belief that we are all inherently and innately forms of all types of energy, because for most, this is true. "Men live their entire lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come."
Continue reading...
2
Welcome to me too. Thanks for coming in high-altitude, if you're really into them. There are new-tutorials, and I'm not going to need one. Why not do the news? I love plain and simple. Free-market sloping losses will do this; because of bipartisan politics. Luyendyk news is crowded by Audi's and by partisan politics; I don't like my partisan politics. Star tutorials are tutorial-soon. This is a new tutorial for my into being given to the jury in tutorial. People present their uh dreams, and a jury room is like love; a little atmosphere me in a circle, meaning we are (he is) related to the moon . I'm the serving the Newburgh tutorial right now around this one: The new green play I'm into. This one’s just a little on the Brumbies cuz glass needs it to learn. I am the circus mom pursuing your doom; a mistaken rampant around jug-glass John, inputting the bar’s shiny leading to the bottom-thanked step. Number one is singing your doom on. Be an unloaded nerd, like a dump truck dumping dirt into our hearts while holding the whole lamar, and perfecting the bar starting with p. Put on the range near the whole ecosystem in a in a bubble. Second thing you gotta do is earn it, you do this, but we plan to our dirt up to nine innings. love things American like me in the new godliness. 99 dramas trapped under so now I'm a real utah zombie, and lines,
0
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
Alan