majic's journal

Don't we tend to associate ourselves with material objects? Don't we tend to obsess about these objects? And again we live to get more and more of these material objects so that we can feel safe and warm inside. We are tied to these objects of bondage and we can never break free. Why is it that we cannot find true happiness within ourselves? Why do I need external objects to satisfy my inner hunger to be content, safe and loved? This poem was written as a response to a poem on litkicks.com. Which currently seems to be down for some reason or other.

The things which make me,
are objects of my mind,
I arrange them in pairs,
and stack them in kind,

these simple pleasures abound,
and beckon in my mind,
these treasures are most beautiful,
and something so divine.

This post was edited by majic on Feb 02, 2004.

Tonight I wrote my wife a poem for Valentines day and her Birthday which is on the 20th of February. (mine is on the 3rd and her mom's is on the 6th) isn't that weird? Anyway here it is...

Line every woman up,
side by side,
tell me I have one choice,
just one try,
to pick a woman to be with,
for the rest of my life,
a woman to be my friend,
a woman to be my wife,
I'd take less than a second,
to pick you out,
I wouldn't think twice,
without a shadow of a doubt,
I'd pick you a thousand times,
and do it all again,
there isn't another woman,
I want as a friend,
there isn't another woman,
I want, to share my life,
there isn't another woman,
I want as my wife,
you're the green,
that's in the grass,
you're the white,
in the clouds that pass,
you're the blue,
that fills the sky,
you're the joy,
in the tears I cry,
a mirror would smile,
from the likeness of your face,
a million men would march,
to stand in my place,
you're my diamond,
at the center of a ring,
you're the music,
to which I'd gladly sing,
you're my inspiration,
on a rainy day,
you're worth more,
than any words can ever say,
a thousand lifetimes with you,
could never be enough,
a journey of a thousand years,
could never be too tough,
to get to you -
and take your hand,
to be your husband,
to be your friend,
there isn't another woman,
that measures up to you,
or another heart,
that beats as true,
you're the only one for me,
you're the only key -
which sets my heart free.

if love were a diamond,
would you put it in a ring,
and show the world about it,
and of its offerings?

If love were an emotion,
would you regard it just the same,
or throw it to the gutter,
and regard it as just a game?

This post was edited by majic on Jan 28, 2004.

I'm an emotional basket case on the roller coaster called life. Some days are better than others and right now this is a glimpse of me today. Tomorrow may be an entirely different story but we will see!

Well I don't know what everyone else thinks about deep down when they're alone. I don't know what feelings you guys have when nobodies looking. I'm sure alot of people are well adjusted and deal with their feelings and emotions quite well. However I'm going to level the playing field here. Deep down I am scared to death. I'm scared of life, I'm scared of taking chances, I'm scared of making commitments, I'm scared of what I will fail at, I'm scared of what I may be good at, I'm scared that I am not showing enough love to my family, I'm scared that I won't be a good father to my little Shelby, I'm scared of so many things that it would take years to list them all!

I don't know what will happen tomorrow, I don't know if things will go exactly as I hope them too. I don't know anything. All I know is what has happened and how I've lived the days that are gone. I have no idea of the future and it pains me to great lengths.

I have always thought about how my death will come. I've analyzed and put myself into situations that I've read about or seen on TV. I've thought to myself, what if that was me??? How will I go? Will I be young, will I get to see my daughter grow up? It's a nasty thing to think about. Sometimes it is overbearing. This especially happens when I'm about to throw myself from an airplane at 1200 feet flying at 120 miles per hour. I think to myself this could very well be the last time I jump. My parachute may not open and I could freeze and not pull my reserve chute. And quite frankly falling 1200 feet to my death is not something I take lightly. It must be a horrible way to go....

I have all sorts of feelings and emotions and 99% of them I cannot describe with any words. They are like a toxic soup trapped inside my head. I wanna understand myself but I have no idea where to start. What do I study first and what am I supposed to do to figure all this out. I love asking myself rhetorical questions. I seem to use them alot in my journal writings. I want to get these feelings out and put some kind of word or phrase or musical verse to them. They are there, I know they are, I can feel them eating at my insides. I just do not know the cipher to unlock them. And sometimes I get so frustrated at myself because of this. How many years must go by before I really truly deep down understand what it is to be me?

I have love, I have lots of it. I am a really nice guy. Sometimes I get walked all over because I am incredibly nice. I'm a push over. Yes there it is. I have said it and now it's finally off my chest. I have trouble speaking up for myself in certain situations. Maybe others have this problem as well. I'm not sure but it's caused me some grief in the past. I'm sure it will cause some pain in the future. But this is a trait of mine and all I can do is hope that I can deal with it in a more logical manner.

I have trouble in crowds of people, I get anxious. Sometimes my heart starts to race and I start sweating. I have a hard time dealing with people in these kinds of situations. The thing that I usually do and am always looking to do is escape from that setting. Escape back to a place that I can be alone for the most part. I believe this is a social disorder. This has cause me alot of pain. Yes this has kept me from doing so many things I cannot even begin to list them all. I'll try to describe a few though. For instance my wife would want me to go places with her and I simply could not bear to go because these places she want me to attend usually had large crowds of people. I'd think to myself all these people will look at me, they will see all my faults and all the problems that I have. She would aks me to go to church with her and I simply could not bear to go because of this fear of being judged and not knowing how to deal with new people, people I didn't know and the emotions that come with it. I'm a bit reclusive... No I'm alot reclusive and it really shapes my social life. I am however coming to grips with it. I cannot escape all the large crowds or semi-large crowds and on certain days I deal with it pretty damn good. Others well, other days are not so good. Even though my wife has known this about me she still got angry about it sometimes. She would say I never wanted to go out with her and that I didn't want to be seen with her in public. She also thought that I was just not interested in the same things. But I had to express to her that this was me inside, this was not an unwillingness to do these things but I just simply could not bear to put myself into those unknown situations. It caused me alot of stress to think about this and to try to express to her that I wasn't doing this to be mean. However I do manage to still get out and do things. This social anxiety comes and goes and lately I've dealt with pretty good.

This is but a glimpse into what it is to be me. I'm still learning and I hope that I can post more about me in my journal... Well as soon as I figure those things out.

With all that said I think I should wrap it up for now. It's getting extremely late here. I wrote a poem to go along with this.

I'm scared inside,
for what might be,
for what could have been,
for what may never happen,
for what should be done,
for what I fail to do,
for what deep down I know is true.

I'm scared inside...

This post was edited by majic on Jan 22, 2004.

As quickly as the inspiration came, it vanished into thin air. I've hit a dry spell and I'm not quite sure what happened. I want to write but the words are stuck in my head. The ideas and the feelings are not present. Where did they go? How can I get them back and why does this seem to be the norm?

So very briefly I was riding an inspirational high, a very productive two week period that I want back so bad that I cannot even stand it. The words were flowing, the ideas were present and the craving to write was an emotion high that I just cannot live without.

So a few questions are present in my mind. What changed in my environment to cause me to not be able to put my feelings in writing? Why all of a sudden am I finding it very difficult to write even the simplest of poem? How long will this period last and what kinds of things can I do to try to regain some feeling of inspiration?

In this absence of creativeness I've started reading alot more Emily Dickinson poetry. I've taken a liking to the old style english that she wrote in. What I mean is the word choice and the way in which the words seem to flow. I want so much to be able to speak as eloquently as she did, but this old style of english has died and gone away. The english spoken in this time period 1830 - 1860 is absolutely fantastic and it lends itself to poetry like nothing I've ever heard. For instance:

Poem By Emily Dickinson

REMEMBRANCE has a rear and front,—
’T is something like a house;
It has a garret also
For refuse and the mouse,

Besides, the deepest cellar
That ever mason hewed;
Look to it, by its fathoms
Ourselves be not pursued.

Looks very simple. It's word choice is very simple but I could not have wrote that because I would never have known about the word 'hewed' and also I have never heard of a 'garret' and I would have never put the thought processes together to describe a house in that manner. So what's fascinating about her works is that her life experiences are being reflected as though it were a mirror of her mind. I'm absolutely enthralled by her works that I find it difficult to put into words.

So is the answer to just read the dictionary from cover to cover? Is there any other way to learn this old style english? I don't know. I was reading a website about writing poetry and it said to not use words like 'T is and Thee and I think that is completely wrong. If I can learn this old english style that is all that I will write in. Our modern language is so dry, it lacks a certain level of eloquence that english from the 1830's had. Here is yet one more example:

Poem By Emily Dickinson

I HAD a daily bliss
I half indifferent viewed,
Till sudden I perceived it stir,—
It grew as I pursued,

Till when, around a crag,
It wasted from my sight,
Enlarged beyond my utmost scope,
I learned its sweetness right.

WOW, this is definitely not written in today's english. At least it doesn't appear to me. I find this poem extremely difficult to understand. I'm not quite sure exactly what she is talking about but the word structure is like a painting and it is a work of art in my eyes. If my writing endeavours flourish then this is the type of style I want to convey.

So with that said I must go back to my reality and try and figure out how my environment has changed me and where my inspiration has ran off too...

Any ideas or suggestions are quite welcome.

Well last thursday I had a jump. For those of you who don't know I am a paratrooper in the US ARMY. We jump from about 1250 feet up, static line. My 21st jump overall. The dropzone was covered in snow and it was rather exciting to say the least. It was my first jump in South Korea. We jumped from the tail gate of a C130 aircraft. From exit to landing lasts about 30 - 60 seconds and it's very exciting. My adreneline is pumping so much that I am actually worn out after the jump. The good thing is that I didn't kill myself during the jump...

On my next jump I'm going to take a camera with me. The reason I didn't do that this time was because it was my first time jumping on this drop zone and I couldn't risk taking the time to take pictures. All my energy was taken steering my parachute into a nice place to land. Sorry...

HAHAHA... I'm a wild dude...

This post was edited by majic on Jan 18, 2004.