Since I don't post here much anymore, I figured I'd just give the major highlights of the past year:
- I've... pretty much renounced Christianity, if that's the best way to put that;
- I am, as of today, a senior;
- It's been around a year since I first got into Yu-Gi-Oh! and I'm somehow still into it~
- Apparently the only people I can flirt with are cartoon murderers with giant hair;
- Subsequently, my dating life is still non-existent;
- I RP online pretty frequently now;
- I went through yet another bout of depression and all the junk that goes along with that, but I seem to be recovered now, yay;
- OCD is still well and prevalent, but it's no longer a defining part of my life, and I think that's a good thing;
- Most of my time is spent on Formspring and Twitter;
- I got super-good test results on my PSAT thing;
- I wasn't in any plays last school year, unfortunately, but hopefully I'll start up again next fall;
- Did I used to be as coffee-obsessed as I am now? I'm incredibly in love with coffee, anyway.
- A few attempts at getting a job have so far failed;
- Still browsing colleges but have no idea where I want to go, really--though I'm aiming for someplace far away;
- I am almost certain, though, that I want to major in psychology;
- No, I haven't decided on a career path yet;
- I have again gotten really into ancient Egypt in the past year;
-Through that roleplay I mentioned above, I've made some of my closest friends;
- I also used deviantART a whole lot in the past school year and I think I've really improved; but I've been ignoring my fanfiction account.
That's mostly it--that comes to mind now, anyway~
A dog one day looked to his human masters, for he was not satisfied with life as a lowly pet. He saw wonderful and terrible things the humans did, from art to science to war, and wished for this strange world to become his own. He was a prideful dog and sought to achieve this goal as soon as possible, for he was ambitious by nature and craved power. After observing his masters for a time, he came to the conclusion that what set him apart from most humans was the way he walked, on two legs instead of four, like most animals. So the dog practiced secretly, night after night, pulling himself up by his forepaws and trying to balance on his back legs.
This goal seemed impossible, but the dog worked hard, and it came about that after weeks of dedicated practice, the dog managed the feat of walking on his hind legs. Excited, he set about to imitate the humans.
When he attempted to paint a picture, much to his surprise, all that came out of it were gobs of paint on an ugly canvas. When he set out to examine the contents of a microscope, the delicate equipment broke beneath his heavy paws. And when he tried to begin a war, his only reward was a nip to the face from the neighbor's dog that he'd attacked.
The dog returned home heartless, weary, and downtrodden, and desperately took a look at his master's mirror. And what should he behold but an animal, canine, very-much-not-human dog face staring back at him!
"Why," thought he, "am I not a human? For I have achieved the human skill of walking!"
"Ah," answered his inner voice, "this is true. You have imitated the humans. But only in a small skill that any dog at all would be able to learn.
"Silly dog, there is so much more to your masters' power and knowledge than simply walking!"
You cannot become what you cannot fathom.
Man, through all his scheming and effort and will, cannot become God.
I don’t understand…
How can people exist, day to day, content with their lives as they are?
There are too many questions, and the answers are transparent, bringing more confusion.
The very nature of our reality—what is real? What is false?
You know, probably. I do, even though I’ve never seen it. Is there really any way we can ever know for sure that what we see, feel, think, is true?
To quote Edgar Allen Poe, is everything we see or seem but a dream within a dream?
As far as my mind can reach, there’s absolutely no way to tell.
The writer of Ecclesiastes got it, I think. He pursued everything the world had to offer but felt no value within it. The only people he saw who were happy were the ones who lived in ignorance, taking worth from their work, a job well done. It didn’t matter that their work would someday be destroyed, whether by People, Nature, or even Time. The happy ones didn’t question their world; they just lived in it.
Is that truly living?
It’s just mind-boggling, the many things we take on the sole reason of Faith, whether well-founded or not. How do we know that the Past really happened, that the Future will exist? For all we know, everything before the Present is but a false memory, and the Future is but a hope. All we know—actually know—is the Present. But even that Present could be an illusion, a lie. Like in —how do we know that we’re not just figments of another’s imagination?
Cogito, ergo sum. I think, therefore I am.. A solid piece of reasoning. But—how do we know that others think? I do not feel your feelings—I do not think you, therefore you are not. I do not know that anyone other than me truly exists. Perhaps I’m the only one in the universe; what a lovely thought, to be alone for eternity.
But I propose that that is precisely the reason why people are afraid to die. They know only their own experiences from their own perspective—that will die with them. If they die, their entire reality will cease to exist. One person’s death is the end of the world, of their world, anyway. And they have no idea what will come next.
How many things do we take as fact on a daily basis? What, when under reason’s fire, will stand strong and true? Our teachers ask us, “What is truth? Is it absolute or relative?”
Hah, we don’t know. It is as simple as that. The only way to make peace with our strange, strange universe that may be fiction, that may be illusion, that may be lie, is to admit that we know nothing.
All we “know” is ourselves, and even that we don’t know well.
All we can do is fling ourselves into what we perceive as the known universe and have faith that we won’t fall, while we admit we might. We don’t “know” an iota.
Accept it, and move on as best we can.
That is, as I imagine I know, the direction of humanity.
Anyway, here's the colored fanart I've done for the most part since my last art post.
I don't want to annoy anyone, so there's more under the cut...
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She was running down the alley, panting for breath and struggling to keep her balance on the slippery floor. Not an easy feat, I assure you, but it's surprisingly easy to keep your balance when you're running for your life and any slip or stumble might mean your instant doom. Not a pretty picture, but hey, the truth is never pretty. That's what it seemed like to six-year-old Ella, anyway.
Ella's foot slid right in the middle of her musings and she gasped, struggling to right herself, but it was too late. Her balance was completely lost. Too bad she wasn't on the soccer team at her elementary school; cleats would sure come in handy right now. Flailing her arms wildly like some crazed discoing chimp, Ella soon found herself splayed across the alley floor. She pushed herself up to her knees and spat to get the dirty, waxy taste of the ground out of her mouth.
"Ella!" she heard her father's bellow behind her. She swallowed a screech and forced herself to stand up, but she only managed to crouch before her wobbly knees gave out. Desperately, she pulled herself forward with her hands, digging her short nails into the wood and scooting up inch-by-inch.
But it was too late; her demise was upon her.
She felt two strong (if skinny) arms wrap under her arms and pull her up. Twisting her head around, she stared right into the exhausted eyes of a nametag-wearing teenager. Frightened, she opened her mouth and began to cry.
"Ella!" her father yelled again, closer this time since the teen boy was carrying her towards him.
She wailed, knowing her fate had fallen upon her but refusing to go down without fighting. Kicking her legs, she grabbed the teen's hair and yanked on it. "Put me doooown!" she yelled. "Lemme gooooo!"
Grunting, the teen reached the end of the alley and handed her off to her daddy, struggling for a moment to loosen Ella's fingers from his hair. "Is she--ouch--yours?"
"Yes," her father said grimly, grabbing Ella's hand (which still managed to clutch a few of the boy's hairs) and pulling it to his side, apparently deaf to the teen's cry of pain. "I'm terribly sorry; this will never happen again." He paused to glare at Ella. "I'll make sure of it."
As her father dragged her away from the alley amidst her loud protests, Ella guessed she was in for a spanking, but still she argued. "Daddyyyy! I wann'ed to knock the pins down all by mineself!"
Her father frowned and looked away. "Ella," he started in his I'm-giving-you-a-lecture, time-to-zone-out voice.
Ella, with the social grace and wisdom that only young girls possess, decided to on the charm. "Yes, Daddy?" Ella asked heart-wrenchingly, wiping away tears.
Her sad act worked; her father's expression softened for just a moment before he looked away. "I am never taking you bowling. Never. Again."
"Aw, Daddy, pleeease? I'm real sorry. Nex' week maybe?"
"Maybe," he said before muttering, "In a few dozen years."Ella squealed and wrapped her father in a hug. "Thank yoo!"
Unseen by her, he rolled his eyes before hugging her back.
Other kids laughing and dancing
Inside jokes being tossed around like beach balls
Watching whoever has center stage right now
I try to join in but
They don't acknowledge me a bit
And it's like I'm invisible
Alright, laugh it off
Go out to the backyard where
There'a a fire and even FIREWORKS!
Ooh and aah and clap
Glance around for someone to catch my gaze and share a smile
No one does
And it's like I'm a stranger
I borrow someone's phone to call home
But there's a few minutes 'til I'll get picked up
I walk upstairs wishing someone would ask where I'm going
I chat with the host's parents a minute and
Pet the family dog
Grab one last cookie from the carefully-prepared platter
Lug my junk outside to sit on the bench and
And it's like I'm alone
And I stare at the sky
Wondering when it got so dark
Wishing someone were sitting beside me to wish me