Half Past Noon or Twelve Hours Right After Midnight and Thirty Minutes

I enjoy the ability to create.
To toss around ideas.
To indulge in the sweet taste of accomplishment and production.
It's great to be human.
Having the ability to feel so deeply and so passionately is such an amazing gift.
To have the feeling that happiness will never end, that there is a eternal ring of gladness and well being.
But also to discover that opposition and bitterness.
In fact I have decided that the sad part of life is the part that is the most important.
We have always heard that you have to experience sadness to know what happiness is like.
Not only do I think that this is very true and a very important observation but I believe something more.

I would want and wish and hope to think that this small insignificant bit of wording is actually something important, though I know it is not.

I would like to think that we can only experience the same amount of happiness as we have experienced sadness. Which means that the people who experienced the most sadness are the ones with the capability to enjoy the most happiness in fact they are the ones with the want and need to experience the most happiness. In the end, they are even the ones who deserve it. The more and more sadness we experience, the more and more happiness we can experience.

Thank you.

Love, Me.

The Weeping Prince

"You can tell he is the bad guy because he smokes big fat cigars." - LK
"Just because you had something tragic happen to you doesn't mean you are a good public speaker." - ES
"I can buy it!!!! I have forty frikin dollars!" - JL
"Oh, I was expecting you to say something deep." - CM
"How do you get a severed limb when you are swimming?" - MJ

Sometimes moments happen and as soon as they occur you know that after that moment you will never be the same. There are a lot of life changing moments in a day, things that define you, shape you, create you,  but the events that make you sit back and think, My life will no longer be the same, are the truly mind blowing ones.

The other day someone told me they love how my mind works. What's that supposed to mean? How does my mind work. I mean I have noticed I am different from everybody else but... isn't everybody? I have always questioned how my mind works though. Sometimes I wonder why I over think and complicate everything. I also twist ideas and solutions like knots until they can't be untangled. I hardly forget anything and I am actually rather observant. Oh and here is a secret! Sometimes, when people tell me something they have already told me, I pretend they haven't told me before. I am not sure if that is for my benefit or for theirs but I usually remember what people tell me, especially when they are important to me.  And, my brain doesn't shut off. I am usually thinking of five things at once and I can tell you what you are saying to me even when I am thinking about something totally different. And if I have listened to a song once or twice, I have the majority of the lyrics memorized. I like my brain.

"If you love me, here's what I'll do...
I'll take care of you."

'Cuz My Family Won The Lottery and We Are Rolling in Money

That we don't eat until your father's at the table
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust
Am I an honest man and true
Have i been good to you at all
Oh I'm so tired of playing these games
We'd just be running down
The same old lines, the same old stories of
Breathless trains and, worn down glories
Houses burning, worlds that turn on their own

{I Will No Longer Start With "Sometimes"}

I wonder if my mind really controls my actions, my words, my feelings, my heart, my sounds, me movements, my decisions, and everything else. I feel like sometimes my body get on automatic pilot and just does what is does, my body thinks without my mind... if that makes any sense. You see my mind can over think everything, make a plan and try to carry it out and sometimes have great success because it takes over my body but sometimes my body thinks for itself. It takes over and controls it's movements by forgetting the over thinking and not considering the consequences. I am victim to my own body. Maybe what they say is true, you really can leave the decisions up to your heart instead of your mind. 

Then there are those times where you have a total out of body experience and pretty much just throw reason out the window and just go for it. Today for instance, I was dancing, which is when a lot of these out of body experiences occur, and I forgot there were other people in the room, I forgot that I was in an audition, I forgot that I was trying to impress people. It was almost like I had forgotten I was alive. Then all of this movement, this emotion, this feeling just kind of came out of me. Automatic Pilot. As much as I wish I could explain, I can't. To sum it up as best I can, its the feeling I get and then know that I am alive so I can create, so I can dance, so I can write, so I can love, so I can draw, so I can live, so i can be inspired, so I can share and so I can do everything I can do. That feeling is what keeps me going everyday, it's the reason I am alive. It's the only feeling I am really sure of and it is the best feeling in the world.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD GIVES ME THE RIGHT TO QUESTION MYSELF!" 

 Today was very happy and slightly sad. 

Thanks for listening.    

Arthur the Author

{{What would I think of myself if I wrote a book?}}

          I was tempted to reach down and sweep the floor with my now wet hand. It seemed like the prompting was more of a command to clean but as I reached down and the dust stuck to my perspiration I felt more like I was collecting the memories that had been laying hidden in this forlorn room for all of the past awkward years. A trail of small but distinct footprints made a trail that led to the far end of the attic and curved back behind a large elegant trunk in the corner. I carved the small footprints out a little larger as I stuttered across the room with caution wanting to preserve the dust floor and the mysterious magic that filled the room. I wanted to call out to (insert girl name) but it just didn't seem right to make another noise when my feet were already disturbing her silence. 

          As my path came to a curve I saw (insert girl name)'s little red shoes on the floor. Then her full body came into view. She was wearing her favorite jean jumper, her eyes were open and staring, without a blink at the still ceiling. Her chest went up and down in slow breathes that seemed to be thought out. Seeing her breathe that way made me realize that I had stopped breathing and I gulped in the reserved air around me that had mixed with a little bit of dust, and then let out a labored sigh. 

          "Whadda you want?" (insert girl name) floated into the open air. 

          "How long are you going to keep this up?" I throw back "I mean, (insert girl name), you know mom didn't mean it don't you?"

          "Ya I know, just the anger talking right?"
          "Right." I fight hard to destroy any quiver in my speech, making my reply round like it is totally sure. Inside I am unsure myself if mothers words were thought out they way she presented them so carefully to (insert girl name) or if they were just thrown out like garbage on a a collecting day.
          "I just wanna be alone for a little bit."
          "Okay." I meander back down stairs not in much of a hurry because I was not successful in getting (insert girl name) to return with me. As I reentered the kitchen I hear my great aunt's questioning voice in full force. Stabbing my mom with questing that don't seen to have a good answer. The thing about Great Aunt is that she thrives off information. She already seems to know everything about everyone and she is always in a race trying to know more.
          "But who? Who did she take to the bar?"
          "I don't know {Candice}, I simply heard that she was with someone, he could have even invited her to the bar."
          "But who?" Great Aunt duplicated the question to herself now. Her face deviated from its original questioning look to a daydreamy look. Not a happy daydream, but a dismal, confusing daydream that had been torn from the caves of her memory and now was haunting her thoughts with even more habitual questions.
          "(insert boy name) honey, I need you to do the dishes now!"
          "Okay mom." I trotted over to the sink while I rolled up my sleeves in dismay. When mom was angry with someone it was best to avoid upsetting her, most people just avoid her altogether but I occasionally stick around for a show, or to do jobs for her in order to stay on her good side. I sat at the sink looking back through the small, window like hole in the wall to catch another glance at Great Aunt. I have found over the years that the more you study someone the more you notice about them.
           "Why do you give a care anyway?" Mother said to Great Aunt. Mother had moved over to the couch and picked up her stitching.
           "I don't, I don't." Great Aunt moved to the couch opposite my mother and began to read her novel. As I studied her I could tell she wasn't reading but still thinking, still questioning in her mind. I studied her worn face as I scrubbed the large pot she had just cooked in. The more I looked the more I wanted to know her thoughts. Wrinkles on her face seemed to straighten out in my repairing mind for just a few moments, her complexion went from a ash to a pearly white and for a moment I swear I saw her slip out a singular smile. As she looked up I was startled and shoved my eyes back down toward the sink. I spent the next couple seconds in silence washing over my favorite ocean green plate. Thinking about my dad who had given me the gift.
          "Where is (insert girl name)?" mother blurted blowing out my sweet silence, "I thought I told you to go get her!" Here comes the trouble
          "I did go," I say feeling a tingle run up my leg to my stomach, "she said that she just wanted to be alone for now." The same tingle was now traveling straight to my heart causing it to lub loudly.
          "Okay then," mother simply stated. Her answer, clam and collect surprises me. Instead of her subtle reaction calming me, it makes my insides scream louder. My whole body is tingling now every instinct is telling me to run, "Well, keep going!" I hear my mom say, but she sounds far off, I fell removed from the small kitchen but as I look down I am still right there, dirty dish in hand and I resume my chore.

{{Not great. But a Start. I need some good names.}}