Monday, April 28, 2008

They have an imagination that carries them on forever...

Friday, April 25, 2008

Another idea being portrayed through a sketch =)

This is an image that is portraying the connection between our minds+ability and our actions.
Everyone has an immense ability potential, a vast amount of power. It can only be used well if we know how to use it correctly.
Most people's ability and actions hardly overlap.
But we need to use our intelligence to be able to manipulate our intelligence to be able to find the exact point at which the ability is used just correctly to create the perfect action- there will be a bigger energy ability in that case, and a better outcome. It's like hitting the exact spot. Like a laser light that has to touch an exact point and when it does a light starts flashing, because it found what it's supposed to do =)

The random beginning of a possible story

She'd been trying to sleep for longer than she could remember, maybe an hour, maybe two, she didn't know. But she could still hear the crickets and the stars, and she could hear her sister's faint snoring through the wall, and she could hear her heartbeat, if she focused on it long enough. And as the night snailed along, adhering it's heat to her body, suffocating her in the summer air, she got more and more restless and impatient and was so tired, but her eyes wouldn't stay shut.
She crawled out of bed, like a sticky candy being peeled out of it's wrapper, and when she finally got up, she stood there for a minute staring at her walls, her clock, her feet.
She was wearing an old T-shirt and shorts, and her hair was a messy knot of sandy-colored strands. She left her room, and left her house. Walked the block down to the next street, stopped in front of the yellow house with the apple tree and looked through his window, to see what he was up to. He was asleep, sprawled out on his bed. She quietly opened the window and fit herself through it and soon was on the other side, standing on the foot of his bed, watching him breath heavily, a slight smile on his face. He had woken up a little bit.
She said, "I couldn't sleep," and laid herself beside him, putting her head under his chin.
And then all she could hear were her dreams rumbling in the distance, before the morning light came brushing on her skin.
When she got up, he was gone. Probably on his morning run, she thought. So she got out of bed and took out some of her clothes that were in his closet, got dressed, and walked out his front door to go smell the beautiful morning. As she closed the door behind her, he came running up the driveway, slowing down, sweating a bit, tired from his run. Nonetheless, he ran straight into her arms and gave her a big hug.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

He doesn't believe I can hold anything up, because of "human weaknesses".
He has false impressions about what I do with his missing time.
He has a mouth that has no lock on it and he tells everything whether it's the truth or a lie.
He wants to just climb right up there,
While He feels like he's falling back,
And He is somewhere in the distance,
And He is trying to pretend like he's a friend and getting all crazy when I just shut up because he's all full of SHIT.

Added May 28:
I forgot about HIM, who is there.

Monday, April 14, 2008

I am exploding and
imploding and breathing and
and going

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Too paperzied and messalized

What am I to do?
Sorting through thousands, thousands, thousands of papers, from last year, this year, two years ago, yesterday, 5 years ago, papers I want to remember, I want to forget, I want to save, look, ponder. Damn there's too much beauty in this world that I just get so messalized when I look around at everything I have.
How do I organize all the papers so that they'll be saved? What if they die? What if I die?
How do I take everything down and start again, reading everything again, it could take hours. I have hours if I don't study for my matkonet tomo-----


Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Making kids be adults?
No, we should let them be kids, free of a religious connotation and obligation.
I'm talking about the charedi children. Sometimes it's hard to tell if they are miniature adults or if they in fact are young people- children who deserve freedom and opportunities. The little boys are replicas of their fathers- long payes, strictly curled. Neat, formal suits, or collared button-down shirts. The little girls are replicas of their mothers- long dresses, socks and sandals, hair pulled back, long-sleeved shirts, fancy shoes.
For fucking sake,
Children are beautiful creatures who come into this world and experience everything for the first time and run loose in a world of endless opportunities. They need not be caved down into a strict religious belief before they even know what a flower is. A religious belief? No- I mean into a strict religious formation of a fucking square.
Children are not squares,
Children are circles and spirals and squigglies

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Three poems from last week, on a bus

The nature is my home,
In full bloom,
With people's enthusiastic
And persuasion,
The world is swaying
In full bloom,
With the lights corresponding
And the sounds rising
And the life glorifying
And rejoicing-
We are here,
Part of a growing blade of grass,
A thriving rose,
In the middle of a viable
Expanse of beauty
And eternal
We are living the lights
Of the glowing flowers
Rising up, illuminating the world
With endless joy and inspiration,
I want to fold us all along the seam
Of this expanding beauty
That is radiating
From inside the earth.
In the color
Is where we are.
Flap your wings of color and life
Through fields of inspiration
And collect the smiles-
Pull them from the petals-
From the root of life,
The root of love-
And scatter them
Through the winds of bloomability
Through the world of light and beauty,
Above the sky,
Below the ocean,
In the heart
Of a growing humanity and nature.

All rights reserved on all these photos. I took them all

(It's the same song, just two different versions of it)

(the lyrics)
I don't care what you say about people.

If someone is not mean, they are nice.

Friday, April 04, 2008

Spring has sprawled across the land
Like a sheet of daisies
Sprouting from within the arid winter
Illuminating dry souls and empty minds,
Watering the roots of love and prosperity,
Pushing up wild berries and wild flowers,
Through the ground
Into the sky...

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Floating along a rainbow