Hope

            Before I start this cryptic message I want to make clear that I bear no thought of suicide, nor am I depressed. I am instead rather blessed with the life I have. I have a family that is fruitful with love, a friend that is nothing short of a brother to me, and an overall great wellbeing. So the question must arise “then why do you write this”? Simply to ask if you had to give a message to the world what would it be?

Would you be willing to wager your own life to guarantee the moral of this message be heard? But understand that this message could be understood by all... disregarding race, ethnicity, or any other man made boundaries. What would this message say that it would require life so that others may understand?  So I ask myself “what message would I want to be heard”? Is it one of sorrow? One of hope and prosper, or simply a message of inspiration? I ask these questions because I truly don't know myself.

 After twenty years on this earth I have no message. No message important enough to share with the world. I have no forethought into any subject that man may deem useful and cherish. And it is this thought I bear dormant in the depths of my mind. Dormant until an answer can arise, and a message can be written as clear as crystal. Without this message I feel as though I have no purpose… that I’m of no importance to the soul of man.

 Men have fought and died on the dry alienated plains of foreign countries because they believed the message of a man. A man thought to be ordinary with a message that was extraordinary. I write this not so that I may be remembered but so that I may too give contribution to the world. I wish to only be the kindling in the fire of thought, to give a gift to the world in a form of a message.

  At this present time the only message I can muster is that even in the darkness of evil, in the pits of chaos.....hope is still needed. Like the life jacket that keeps us buoyant above the crashing waves of oblivion; hope will give us that deep gasp of air that lets us fight for our lives. To fight for the treasures we keep dear to our hearts. It is this hope that gives us the strength to fight for our loved ones, to stand erect against all odds, and to take our next unsure step into the unknown. It is because of this hope that we can face evil in the darkest of days and still see the slightest beam of light. My message to the world is to never let go of this hope, to never give into the corruption of the world. To instead illuminate the pitch black corners of doubt so that all can see that even in the worst of times........ Hope is still present. 

Bliss

I write now for the first time without doubt, without fear of the future, and without an overflowing kettle of anger… I write now simply because I see a chance, a chance in the form of a woman. I see a chance to be gleefully happy while protected by a vale of sweet bliss from the hateful world that surrounds me. This chance can be seen as a star in the sky…beautiful, and mystifying, with an aura of tranquility which promises peace and prosperity. But like most stars it tickles the fingertips of the forever reaching man.

 And even though I see the stars in her eyes I feel helpless to do anything else but reach. This chance…this woman challenges my belief. Not my belief in religion or myself, but my belief that I have something to offer in which would better her. She offers so much joy to my well-being. In a dull grey life she is the stroke of color that pleases the eye. I feel as though she gives me the power of a titan a being greater than the gods, yet from a single touch I become water through her hands. And it is this woman that I stand next to ever ready… ready to bear the weight of the world simply because she asked.

It is this awe inspiring of a woman that I reach for. People often ask for miracles to be performed and prayers to be answered, but I ask for one thing. I ask for one request to be filled, to obtain my chance, my chance to make her forever happy and mine. Because with her happiness comes my nirvana. Because with her happiness comes the prospering plague of serenity. Because with her happiness comes my bliss.   

So with a tip of the hat I leave you with this, forever reach for the stars.   

Thinking Cap

I've noticed that it seems like people have lost the ability to sit still and think. With technology now a days there is an endless supply of entertainment. You can go on YouTube and watch how a brain turns into mush by watching YouTube. So many people feel the need to constantly be entertained that they have lost the ability to "wonder why" to ask "how does that work," or to simply just think about their own life.

I have heard colleagues and peers discuss that the "deep thinker" has all but died out. Do you want to know how Sir Isaac Newton discovered gravity? He thought about it! He saw an apple fall and asked "why?" He didn't see it fall and then just ignore it just to resume playing angry birds, he took a step back and thought about it.

So with a tip of the hat I leave you with this, put it down, turn it off, and think. 

Crossroads

Their aren't many benefits to being a hat but one is that I have plenty of time for deeper thinking. I also get to read over the shoulder of Ryan and see what he writes when he has something on his mind, and resonantly I read this:

 

 

I am now older in age…and that once awe inspiring hope has slowly become dull. Why is it that with age comes wisdom, but with wisdom comes the punishment of constant thought? The thought that tares apart your dreams with cold hopeless logic. Logic that deems them ill timed and childish, unworthy of pursuit. I use to believe I had greatness in me…but after years of having the heavy hands of life push down on me I feel as though I have faded into the grey ranks of normality. My life now seems to be pinned between the hands of Atlas and the base of the world. I now sit her reminiscing of the days when life was innocent; the days where first breathes smelled sweet. Now I breathe and it is if I breathe led. My heart sags with the ever adding weight. My dreams are becoming crushed by the nightmare of truth. I can no longer afford to dream for that is a luxury reserved only for those who are not confined by the constructs of their own personal reality. My muscles grow weary with the every adding weight of responsibility, and I have come to a crossing in my life. I can forever close my eyes and gently slip into a life of bliss making me ignorant to the surrounding world. Or I can take the worn path, the path that has been chosen so very many times before me. But this path requires a toll. This path requires my dreams. If this is the chosen path then I must give my ability to ask "what if?"  Here at this crossing is where I stand... unable to pick.

Blog Speaker Assignment

Dr. Hochenauer visited my Blogging for journalist class today and spoke about some key subjects that are critical to bloggers.

First a little history of Dr. Hochenauer, a former journalist he's currently a professor at the University of Central Oklahoma and teaches numerous literature classes along with blogging classes. But he is most recognised for his personal blog Okie Funk. Okie Funk is a liberal political blog that Dr. Hochenauer created after he saw the need for a left wing blog in Oklahoma.

He gave some good advice about blogs. He discussed how you have to know what your writing and you have to want to write it. For him it was politics from the point of view of a liberal because he felt that the democratic voice was not being heard here in Oklahoma. He also said how hard it is not to get in personal fights with people who comment on your blog, you have to take the higher road and realize that's not why you have a blog. What id boils down to is this; always strive to be unique and have good writing, never get in personal arguments with critics, and most importantly never forget why your writing.      

Ethics Assignment

I went to the session over the NSA and how it is ethically involved with the media. The major topic of conversation was over how the NSA has made is harder for journalists to trust any form of digital communication.        

A lot of what was discussed was applicable to bloggers because anything they put on the web can be seen and controlled by the NSA. They talked about how the NSA can manipulate phones and turn them into recorders so they can listen in to conversations without letting people know. If the NSA can do that to a phone then what can they do to a blog? They could skew your posts into portraying something out of context that you didn’t mean to post. In the basic form they are able to control the people right to freedom of speech. They’re able to restrict your ability to speak your mind so I think this has a major roll on bloggers.

I think the strongest part was how he talked about what loops journalists have to jump through now to avoid the NSA. I didn’t find a weak point in their discussion; it was all very valuable information.

I also went to “covering horror.” It was about how journalists have to cover horrific scenes of violence and trauma and how they deal with it. I don’t think this is applicable to bloggers because very few bloggers cover events first hand. I think that most bloggers if they are covering news relay the news given to them by other news sources or by the original journalists who covered it.

 I think its strongest point was show casing that being a journalist comes with a lot of challenges and it’s not always easy or fun. Its weakest point I think was that they didn’t articulate what benefits came from covering that story other than gathering news.         

Verbal Vomit

Today more then any other day I wish I had legs, mostly so I could have gotten up and walked away from the event that I am about to tell you.

So it's a normal Friday at the University of Central Oklahoma and Ryan and I are having a pretty good day nothing really out of the ordinary. Ryan and I walk into his second class of the day and sits down at his usual spot at the back of the room. Shortly after one of his female classmates walks in while covering her mouth with her hand. Ryan being the curious person that he is proceeds to ask her whats wrong.

The girl then moves her hand and reveals a small scab above her lip. She begins telling her story about how during the previous weekend she went to a concert and while she was walking in she tripped fell on her face and chipped a tooth. She tells Ryan that she didn't even get to go to the concert but instead had to go to the dentist to get a fake tooth put in. Ryan listens to the story, gives his condolences, and moves on to focusing on class.      

Later that class that same girl had to give a presentation. In the middle of her presentation she became shy and nervous and started to forget the speech she had prepared. She then completely lost her train of thought, and couldn't remember a specific word she wanted to use. She started filling the awkward pauses with filler noise like "um" and "uh". The professor trying to be light hearted and encouraging says "come on you got it," in which Ryan adds on "come on it's right on the tip of your tooth."

Ladies and gentlemen I have gone through hell and back with Ryan and I will always be there for him, but the looks Ryan received made me wish that Ryan's head had an ejection seat.

So with a tip of the hat I leave you with this...shut-up and be nice.