I moved the entirety of 'PrivateLifeForSale' to here, for the sake of name continuity and posting further writings. New stuff at the top. Feel free to criticize & comment. ~Dan Frampton, hypocritical optimist~ Loaded words. Love. Art. Life. Men and women can spend their entire lives trying to describe the width and breadth of only one.. and only scratch the surface. Philogists trace the lineage of the words; philosophers meander among themselves pondering over what they are; scientists of the mind study which segment of grey matter is responsible for it. The lovers, brothers, sisters, and friends experiance the love; the painters, musicians, sculpters, photographers, poets, and long-winded writers wave their hands at you and yell at you to quit bothering them as they practice their Art; and a select few of the rest Live, truly, everyong else striving towards the surface. But where are they? Hidden away from our sight on some distant mountaintop, answering questions for Ziggy in the sunday comics? Surely, if they knew and lived such valuable knowledge, they would strive to share it with others, but Surely, if they were, you would have heard of them!... They who live without the burden of guilt, they who strive to love all, they who awake with the sun and praise He who made the beauty they see. Surely you would have heard of them. But what they have to say is not what you want to hear, and you move on, looking still for someone who can explain what it all means, for something to purge the lonliness and guilt you've lived with for years; but try as you will you cannot evade the words 'Love the Lord with all your heart and all your soul and all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself', a string tied around your soul's finger. You go for a walk. You see beauty, see wonder, see love, see at last, in all, the creator's insignia writ across the universe, and it all comes together, as you look onto infinity... To be continued. dancing to the beat of the drum resounding in your ear and into the center of your being, pouring out the pent up waves, a smile weaving in and out of your self-portrait, the sloshing that frightened you with it's threats to become familiar, which your response to was letting it out through the eyes, gone. gonel. gone... care to dance, she asks. you reply - la vita e bella. La Vita E Bella. Vita Est Bella. Life is Beautiful. I microwave the measuring glass of water, walking around aimlessly while it is nuked; pour the steaming water into my plastic dark green mug with the emblem of the Empire Builder Amtrak train on the side, covering the darkgreen leaves inside the tea bag. I warm my hands on the mug and depart to my room, setting the mug onto my computer desk to steep. 'Well, Here I am' I say to myself. Surrounding me, the computer with its depths of electronic worlds, music, incorporeal tunnels to other substances, musical instruments, books of all varieties types numbers colors and names to engross myself in and learn from, comfort in form of furniture, entertainment in various forms. What to do! My eyes, not fully trained for what are required of them, go to the nearby box of a computer game. I sit down to play and an hour later I discover my tea has gone cold, and leave to reheat it. How Fucking Depressing! I want to write something Happy! Was that Happy?! Damn it! Damn the whole lot of it! I imagine another place and time. Walking. Seeing. Thinking clearly, my mind a silver pool. Going to see people I love. Meeting with more people. Loving more people. Being loved. Forging friendships. Exchange e-mails? You bet. Having nothing but what I need, along with a couple engrossing novels and a CD case. My backpack, sleeping bag and camp pillow. May I stay here for the night? Ah, what sweet pleasure to have a door shut in face. Walking. The only material possession I have is a rock. Its twisted grey, black, and white. It came from a beach in oregon. I was happy on that beach. There were people I loved and admired there. They were happy too. It was calm that day. The sky radiated a shade of blue that can only be called Blue. That beach had seen other people also. Those people were also happy. Some of them also own their own rocks. I don't own the rock, exactly; I wasn't the one that made it, after all. I know the fellow who did, and he is also happy, and loving. I don't own the rock, but I own it more than any of the other atoms sitting around me. The rock reminds me of people I've met, and will see again, and the other possesors of rocks. The rock brings me great joy. I try to find a metaphore in Nature for what I am...a rock? Nay, a rock is strong and doesn't budge. A Slug? No, it is slow, but achieves distance. A Lemming. Ah! I've found it. The lemming, rumored to be quite unintelligent and capable of running off cliffs into the sea to their deaths. Assuming this is true, the lemming is driven by an urge to migrate, and disregard the aforementioned cliff, risking everything for the unseen goal but not knowing its risking a thing. Seems correct. Lets elaborate and find some adjectives to advance this aristotelian machine; Shortsighted Lemming...Shortsighted Introverted Lemming...Shortsighted Introverted Mirrorball-inhabiting Lemming. With access to the internet. Self-degradation aside. I am capable of coming to great truths in my mind, but incapable of acting on them; postponing it to the point of forgetfulness. Months later I will stumble upon the same problem and spend another week wrestling with it, coming yet again to the same conclusion and hitting myself with the same book (yet again). Repeat ad infinitum. Where does relief lie? Not philosophy. Philosophic thought is my form of chasing my tail, or running over an unseen cliff. Drowning myself in time-consuming hobbies does just that, consumes time, accomplishing nothing while the problem remains right over the horizon. I know in my soul that the answer lies in my God, and therin I put my faith, or attempt. The shortsightedintrovertedmirrorballinhabitinginternetwiredlemming has increasing problems with not recognizing a problem when it appears, seeing problems where they do not exist, and mixing the two to near indistinction until the poor lemming doesn't know whether there is a cliff or not, and promptly jumps over it, because, after all, who wants to stay in one spot, in doesn't accomplish all that much... The lemmings aren't as bad as that, yet. If you're a lemming lover I apologize. Its only a metaphore for someone else... I want to be angry. I want to be calm. I want to be active. I want to be respected. I don't deserve respect. I want to cry. I want to be joyful. I want to be realistic. I want to hurt. I want to nurture. I want to be nurtured. I want to be self-reliant. I want to get away. I want to feel at home. Where is my Home? My home is a place I can safely be myself in, this is not my home. I want to be chaste. I want to get it on. I want to sense. I want to be away from my senses. I want to delve into the world's mysteries. I want to be satisfied with what I have. I want to give. I want to have. I want to take. I want to feel complete. I want to be empty, long to be empty. I want to be full yet feel hunger. I want to be true to myself. I want to give up my wants and focus on my needs, I want to Love, be loved. I want to live Love. I want to help others, I want to help myself... I need to be away from the grey clouds, mislead masses, raped environment, hateful fools, cut all the chains tieing me to these things, live how I was meant to, Love the way is was intended. Give up the pleasure that takes me away from the true path. Push it away, smask it, kill it, drop it into a deep hole, drop a bomb on it, and run screaming to tell everyone to destroy their own personal monsters and be Free. I want to be holy and loved by God, and love him in turn. Gravity pulling, ignore it! Away falls the ground, soar forward, air blocking; Ignore it. It is or is not only in the mind, away falls the earth. Lack of oxygen, Forget it. Lack of sustanence? Forget your Body, come with us and experience joy. Jehova calls, heed him. You are in my arms, have no worry, welcome to the Real World. Lack of human invented reality? It goes...~~~ Grey clouds, behind is the sun and the Blue; is it that much better without the clouds? The sunny blue sky will remain, there is no reasonable wish to see them directly other than selfishness, per se. Plants! you say, indicating your dear Venus Flytrap. Be not a fool, do you sense the plant worrying? Every need of theirs is fulfilled, impose not your standards on its perfection. Enjoy the clouds while they are, and after enjoy the rain that is. Every aspect of nature brings forth beauty.
Look at this objectively. An evergreen tree has been cut and placed in a large space in a home, with pulsing lights, round glass spheres and various miniatures that appear to have some cultural meaning all hanging on it. There is a glowing five-pointed object upon the summit, and the base covered with white cloth... even stranger, a miniature form of the transportation they call 'Trains' advances without apparent purpose in circles around the base of this unnatural monument. ~ Your memory returneth? It is a Christmas Tree, erected during the period near the holy-day commemorating the birth of Christ that is named Christmas (from the catholic mass, and Christ). The star represents the guide of the 'Three Wise Men', the lights and ornaments are decorations which are ofttimes assigned emotional value; the toy train is there for the sheer enjoyment of it. Households across the states have made this an annual tradition to be followed at all costs, with large amounts of time and money spent on the arrangement of this strange altar. ~ I've been going through some wierd times lately, and I can sense that my life is going make some major changes soon that will be welcomed gladly; So this afternoon I was feeling really moody and emotional and needing to vent. Well, this is it; everything that I've written that I could scrounge up, unedited so I won't feel like I'm handing out false truths and cheating my feelings. Feel quite free to comment if you will, I could use some criticism. ~Dan Frampton, Cynical Madman~ Maybe I'll just give up. It's not really worth the trouble at all. No! I musn't. I am the leader of these peoples, and as such, My will Must be strong. With that thought clear in his mind, Santhar glanced across the table at the gloating man that was the subject of his inner battle. The Stellare wished to have an Alliance, but Santhar, against the opinion of half of the council, opposed it. The Stellarans had been the bane of the Anderians since well beyond his father's time, and their slyness was ledgendary. He returned his attention to the matter at hand. Accept the Stellare's offer, or No? The opinion of the people, serfs, millers, lords and all, was largly against the alliance proposal. The military strength and aid was what the council saw in the alliance, most of them. "Can you give us one more day to decide?" asked Santhar, "The Council remains undecided, I am afraid." "Of Course, of course" replied the Stellare, "But my patience wears thin. Santhar, even the uncouth Badari swine can make decisions faster than your bloody council." And Still with that smile. He hated this man.
The local boys were playing baseball on the neighborhood sandlot. William, the pitcher, held the ball behind his back, preparing for his ledgendary pitch, "The Rolling Cross". William winds up, and then the ball flies from his hand, railing through the air like and bouncing penguin! Jennifer, at the plate, was prepared for this pitch. She nailed it hard, and to the dismay of all, was going straight for old Mr. Binky's house. The ball crashed, extinguishing the window. Mr. Binky ran into the room quickly, examining what he thought was a rock. A unanimous "Doh" went up from the team. The ancient librarian replaced the last book on the shelf with a sigh. /'Yet another hard, pressing day at work', he thought. Stepping outside and locking the door, a small miniscule though flittered through his mind; a small region in his memory piped up to say he had seen it before, but he dismissed it as Deja Vu; 'Have I really accomplished anything? There must be more to this life.' The ancient, crooked librarian pondered on this for a second, before remembering that his favorite television program was showing within the hour. He went home. You begin to pray. You are seeing yourself, but a window is blown open in your mind, and your view expands. The size, immense, complexity, multi colored-cultured, created globe of Earth hangs in your mind, and yet you can see beyond ~ ~ ~ The Stars, brightly illuminating the galaxy, tributes to the glory of God, Now revolve in yoursight, uncountable and immense. The local nieghborhoods, galaxies clusters snowballs of space, and Yet You see beyond, the infinity of Life... all then implode in on themselves and you see yourself. Small, awe-inspiringly you appear compared to the glory of God which has been revealed to you by his creation. Then in a short synapse that you do not understand, your insignificant self and the glory of God rush to meet eachother, the resulting euphoric explosion unleashes a river of grace, nay an Ocean of Grace granted by our lord... for a time you peer into the crystle clear deep waters on above, below and all sides, then ~ You dive, into the unforced rythms of Gods grace, and are washed away.
The jellyfish is an oddity of an animal. As a matter of fact, it isn't an animal at all, but a floating colony of tiny organisms banded together. They need to be in the community of that gelatenous, shapeless mass to survive. The jellyfish hardly has a shape. It drifts along helpless, with whatever current comes its way. Shapeless, formless and practically lifeless, it has no will of its own. Many of us are jellyfish. We survive in mass huddles of conformity, only going where the currents of the world take us. No willpower, we cannot exist, or even think on our own, total slaves of the currents of todays trends. Then there is the coral. It doesn't float aimlessly, but anchors itself to rock and itself. Wheras the jellyfish is controlled by the environment, coral changes, even controls the environment through its massive, silent strength. A few of us are coral, totally safe with ourselves. Are we anchored on The Rock, do we hold our own through the currents of the world? Are we jellyfish, or do we have the eternal strength and security of Jesus? I stare toward the door, as if I can will you into my presence with my longing... Longing, longing to Hold you tightly, throw off my cloak of doubt and innuendoes and... a thought comes to me, that I may be jumping ahead of the game; another thought that a game is all the sum of our activities ~ But No! your smile, glittering far brighter than the Sun refracting off a serene, arctic mountain lake, comes to mind, your affectionate glances, caring gestures, caring not for the world's opinions and disclosing your true character. I long to fill the pages with my thoughts, unleash the torrent of emotions encapsulated in my mind. Also I long to weep...long and softly, the pent-up ocean from years of battles with myself, God, Satan, and the world. My mind wanders - my history, what I will return to in my home, what I will make of it, and my desire to disclose, discuss, pour out to you all of this with no more fear of being turned away or disheartened. Lord if this be your will! I pray, for I know that it is he that will aid in his grace. Our mutual love of he who is Love is like a bridge over troubled waters; as we see by means of that love, so will we see eachother! Oh Glory, it is well with my soul!
I sip my coffee contentedly, glancing from Kim to her father and also Matt, wondering idly where the conversation will go next (and hoping it will go the way I wish). The scenery outside is amazing, tremendous mountains and valleys in the Rocky Mountains, and I wonder at the fact that it isn't occupying my attention. The coffee is excellent. The massage circle disperses, and I, Nathen, Ellsbeth and a couple others resign ourselves to walking over to the Ug's (john's advisee group) table. We arrive, good-natured rough-housing goes on briefly. I notice that the Ugs had stolen the fruit bowl, and treat myself to a Banana. The "We're So Rad" evening event is drawing to a close. I grab a cup of the deliciously spicy Chai tea and listen and nod as Marina and Summer compliment eachother. The Circle moves; Summer begins, 'Dan,' and I immediately reply 'Ditto'...summer laughs so hard she collapses and I sip my tea and chuckle behind my hand. I have a song to sing; words unknown, a hallow general mish-mash of emotions of different tunes, conjuring blurry pictures, memories of past events along with those wished...happiness wished, desire and remorse the reality. Loves lost, friends long gone, opportunities missed (positively the worst of all), yet it is said by the philosophers that remorse is a dead end; that the course to take is to forgive, make amends as much as you can and make a conscious effort to avoid the problem in the future. ~ Awe-inspring landscapes flit by the window, Steep-walled gorges, Snow-capped mountains, valley lakes surrounded by evergreen woods, plains wherin the horizon stretches to its limits ~ sunrises and sunsets fall on a myriad of clouds over these landscapes, creating innumerable shadows which writhe like tormented spirits. A walk through forests reveals a deeper level of the rabbit hole, a new level of complexity. A young squirrel in an evergreen tree, part of some woods surrounding a valley lake, searches speedily for a quick snack; retrieving an acorn, scampering down the tree. The current protaganist discovers a warm spot on some pine needles created by a sudden break in the myriad of clouds, and promptly decides a nap is in order, forgetting the acorn tucked in his cheek. A snake is also discovering a good napping spot, but as the clouds converge he finds himself in the cold yet again. The protaganist spies a large squirrel lolling about on the ground not far away, and promptly eats it; all that remains is an acorn to commemmorate the passing of the poor beast, aside from the corpse of a snake that choked on the spine of of a squirrel. This corpse goes on later in life to fertilize a young sapling, making it grow and provide yet another snack spot for squirrels... William O'Hara plods along in the wood, feeling quite bored and rejected due to reasons not mentioned. He comes across an acorn and picks it up tiredly. Weeks pass, the acorn living a happy life in Will's pant pocket. Will meets a girl, as is the way of things, and he gives the acorn to her, saying "As long as the acorn stays together, we'll be best friends", the traditional childrens disgustingly cheerful game. Sara, the romantic interest, giggles. Later on in life, due to horrendously bad self-control, a child is born. This child is cruelly deposited in an orphanage, growing up through numerous events to be a major figure in history. Moral ~ Life is governed by a Pattern, or Web, animals, plants and people all forming a hub for innumerable spokes, ripples...even material, clouds can change history. ~ Inky blackness, a moon whose mirrored light is shrouded by invisible clouds overhead. Darkness - Long assosciated with that which is evil, can also be comforting. Fantasia pictures night as a large blanket pulled over the sky by the Gods. Sitting in the dark blankets of my bed, night envelopes me like a blanket; I feel safe. In the night, the darkness is pierced by the lights of the storefronts, streetlights, car lamps...those in the brightness feel afraid of the dark, those in the dark feel invulnerable and invisible to the former. Some use darkness to bad ends, but in the end are rewarded with more darkness, and fall into that pit of desire and despair. A recurring theme in poetry of the mind is venting (ma gavte la nata) that occurs by putting your thoughts to paper. Does it preserve santiy or obscure it? Is maturity a good name for my gentlemanliness, or a seperate entity? and Why 'In the name of anything' do I speak in questions? I must think on the answers. I think my 'gentlemanliness' is one facet of my good and holy character that is suppresed by my evil facet. May the Spirit inspire me. What is the root my newfound yet ancient passion to create strange environments? Holy or demon-spawned? We should be satisfied with that which is real, not to better our Lord. To do so is a sin, blasphemous. But... maybe it has a place in God's plan, and He will make use of my talent. Sed ist nicht alles. Oi, monsier....But there seems to be no rest in the 'maturity'. Is it right to use the Oregon trip as a role model? Better to be tired than lazy. (amen, brother) We must carry on the fight, no matter what the cost; the sleep will come in the end. I rest now in preperation for the action. Today yet to come I must pack my $50 suitcase with my $infinity clothes, fill my backpack with my 'not too expensive, mother' belongings. Thanks be to God, may he bless them. What will I tell Jessica? Do not have expectations, for I will not meet them, Do not be impatient, for I will arrive, Do not love me, for I will Die. Wowee, that cappucino was a kick in the mouth. Love that almond flavoring! I'm sitting in the Union Station lobby outside Gate A&B, previously bored out of my mind and quite sleepy. I think I caught about an hour and a half on the Lafayette train, named the Kentucky Cardinal. Spent some time meditating on different subjects and vainly admiring myself in the window. How many lost minutes! I encountered an elderly african-american man who requested money for a bus home; he used props (or?) such as an empty medicinal bottle and ragged medical bills, claiming he just got out of the hospital. Ooo, my mind is feeling fuzzy. Time 12:45. Supplies Half cup cappucino...*slurp* make that 1/4 cup...3 Power Bars...Thorsprings bottled water...*Danopian rubs forehead... 1:16p The people in the lobby come and go, webs twisting and reweaving. 2:01p On the train. I await the conductor to 'punch' my ticket so I can head on down to the restroom, the quiet sanctuary. I wonder if is Kim is really on the train; if not, I have no clue as to why she didn't disclose her travel plans. Wily females. 'Thorspring - there is a place on the planet that is still clean. The land is still virtually untouched. And the water is still pure. The place is Iceland. The water is Thorspring. Nothing is added to our water, nothing is taken away. It is naturally pure and naturally free of sodium. Pure water from one of the cleanest places on earth. Iceland.' Ho brother. Our conductor is making a general inroduction over the PA, I quote - "You're on a land boat. We don't walk normally; while you're here we want you to waddle like a ducl." I prefer to walk normally myself; it confounds everyone who tries. Jogging works too, but they nail you if they (the car attendants) are awake. 3:54p I have made the aquantaince of a quite interesting elder man, the same which I had noticed in the lobby (note: not the one who asked for money earlier)...over a game of chess whe introduced. I have been invited to dine with him and his grandson and 'nanny'. His name is Hilleary Williams (!), seventy-six years of age and has led a very active life. Ah, sweet bliss of this landboat. He bought me Kaffee. The conductor seems a fun guy and I'll make an attempt to introduce myself to him, though the chances are slim. We are leaving Milwaukee, and I am thoroughly enjoying myself. ~ Ah, I have 'Wings' songs stuck in my head...the words 'My Love' swim through my ocean. I think I've deciphered the pattern on the chairs ~ the green swastikas are defenitly on top, *laughs*. I need to get a job when I return home ~ I will ask John first, library second, then secure my posistion at the shop as Lil' helper boy! I was just offered a pillow by the female amtrak crewmember (need to catch her name, she is probably my Car Attendant), I politely refused as did the woman in the next chair, and the crewmember exclaimed "All right, but I don't want to catch you two sleeping! No Pillow, no sleeping, thats the way it goes!" Happy Oxygen Exposure Anniversary, Dan. Sehn schlect [loosely translated, very sad] birthday, eh? Ja. I'm in the waiting lobby in Union Station at 6:42, train leaves in forty-five. I've spent the tag [day] remembering, crying, ruminating. I should have stayed in St. Paul. Oi, I love Jessica. I have of course been considering writing an account of all 3 days, but it would take time and tears. Lord, I feel just like Casaubon! [main character in foucault's pendulum, writes the story from about 3 days after the events in the book] Foucault's Pendulum was quite a work of beauty... 'and in the end; the love you take; is equal to the love ~ you make.' The End by The Beatles. I'm in quite a good mood here's what I've been doing in Chicago. I read a bit more from 'The Big Book of Hell', Jess' birthday present for me. Its hucking filarious... I got a comment on it from the car attendant on the St.Paul - Chicago train. It has a lot of comments on Love and Weasels. I'm on/just boarded the Kentucky Cardinal [train home], discovered that that damn big orange ball ran off again... anyway, back to my Union Station exploits. I decided to go call the parental units (or spazzes) and I wanted a comfy reclusive spot; I decided on the ones I had used on the way up [to St. Paul] that are in a corner of Great Hall [really big hall in the station]. I simply adore the hall, its quite beautiful, I took a moment to take a photo and observe some other shutter-bugs [a couple taking some pictures]. I rang up and they weren't home, so I left a comical yet informative message. Started off at a good pace with Jessica and Coffee in mind; went to the escalators to the resturant level to the left, on the way up I was awed by a neato large glass roof showing Sears Tower. Went into my fav coffee shop [apart from dunn brothers], bought the day's special 'Black Forest Mocha' with 'exact' change, got a thankful word from the stylish fellow [not a prep for once] behind the counter and I dropped the extra penny into a 'Help Feed College Student' bowl and went back to take a picture of the escalator scene, sipping the *ahhhhhh* delicious coffee. Since then I have been reading Matt Groening and writing, briefly using some armrests as some bongos; trying to suppress tears (difficult) and feeling 'Happily Bittersweet' in Rick's words. I'm thinking more and more often on what I'm to tell my family along with trying to plot my course back to the Twin Cities. I will be forever praising and thankingGod for his bountiful (which does not begin to describe!) blessings. Lot of people on this one-car train tonight, the conductor just announced recently that we should arrive in Lafayette at 10:38post-meridiem. These have been 5 of the most emotional life-changing days in my experience. The train is now moving - 7:34p. Can't wait til Mother asks me about my hair and all the glitter! What fun it will be...and what fun it will be to have Jessica visit Indiana. [god, I hope so] What bliss. I somehow think my parents would be quite 'cool' in the posistion. I will now pray, the lord knows he deserves it... Oktober 22nd, 7:42 post-meridiem 2000 anno domini. Those topics which make us nervous, or uneasy ~ things we do not wish to dwell on ~ all must be adressed at some point. For myself, suicide; the occult; the end-times (sometimes); madness, retardation; mental injury. For others, perhaps it is God, the afterlife, heaven & hell; the moral inclinations of abortion, murder, divorce... In looking into those, I found life. Now I look away from the depths where I once looked away from the heavens. Filled with restlessness, I step through the door into the cold wind-swept surroundings; I stride down the stone walkway to the gravelly road and let my senses drift...glancing down this communal path I mentally detach myself from that which I walked away from and picture the bus arriving to take me into the world, my belongings on my back and nothing to stop my free will. The scene reminds me of a movie, or a book I read in the past; but I do not recall the origin. I glance around at creation, the clouds wind cold birds trees stone dirt ~ so beautiful. I am called and walk remorsefully back to the house, my home. I come to my senses suddenly, the veils of arrogancy, pride, youthful immature foolishness, physical cares and limitations, they all are swept away when I lay here clutching my pillow in my moon-lit room. It seems to me that I have been increasingly affected by my room, making my more self-aware and...intellectual? I realize that again I have fallen away from my parents, ashamed of the truth and afraid to tell it. If I could only find it in myself to pour out my story to them might they recognize my posistion. Oh, foolish world, how I long to break your imposed limits and Live! What would become of me if my parents did not alow Jessicas visit? I deem that I would undergo some extreme character changes to avoid going mad; or Elope. Certainly something so wonderful and happy is righteous and blessed by God? May my state of mind be retained in the morn; G'night. Thats all of it. It seems so miniscule, but the next step would be to realease publically my large vaults full of love letters. Now Those are entertaining. I'm kidding. Really. F*** off. ~Peace Be With You, Dan Frampton~ NBTSWikiWiki | Recent Changes Edited 10 times, last edited on July 9, 2001 by ::ffff:12.75.131.169. © 2000 NBTSC Webmasters |
