It’s Sunday…

People pray on Sunday’s, I used to make quite a habit of joining them. On this particular Sunday I awoke with a very special prayer in my mind. Dante’s Prayer. I don’t know it’s true religious significance, or if there is meant to be any, but I have loved his passage, and the music it has been set to for many years. Today it is the music that I feel will carry over the hours and serve as the back-drop to my every day habits…I wanted to share it with you here. I have so many thoughts in my mind, and instead of trying to articulate them myself I’ll simply let the song speak for me.

When the dark wood fell before me

and all the paths were overgrown

When the priests of pride say there is no other way

I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see

though you came to me in the night

When the dawn seemed forever lost

You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean

Cast your soul to the sea

When the dark night seems endless

Please Remember Me.

Then the mountain rose before me

By the deep well of desire

From the fountain of forgiveness

Beyond the ice and the fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean

Cast your soul to the sea

When the dark night seems endless

Please Remember Me…

Though we share this humble path alone 

How fragile is the heart?

Oh give these clay feet wings to fly

To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart

Lift this mortal veil of fear

Take this crumbled hopes etched with tears

We’ll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean

Cast your soul to the sea

When the dark night seems endless

Please Remember Me…

Please Remember Me…

Please Remember Me…



Just needed to write

I always take on this hollow sort of feeling whenever I finish reading a book. When I’m in the midst of it, I dream of the setting, feel the presence of the characters, feel for them. Then suddenly with one final word, and a last punctuation mark, it’s all over again. I have to find a new story to fall in love with. New characters to cling to. It feels like I’m pouring a part of my soul out into the story as I go, and the portion allotted for that book is finally ripped away at last with those few final words.

I’m overanalyzing again I know I am. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I let these crazy notion embed themselves within my brain and I won’t let go of them. They feel so right, the ideas just seem to work themselves out somehow. Like I would be foolish to believe that there wasn’t a chance…that things hadn’t changed. It’s not healthy, it’s not fair. It’s not the right thing to do and yet I can’t keep myself from it. Maybe it’s not as bad as all of that…

Last night I dreamt that I was in the arena…last night I dreamt many strange and vivid things. All of them served as a reminder that my life at it’s most primary level is just a story. A story that has already passed over some of the toughest bits. Right now I feel as though I’m living in the epilogue of my childhood. That the tragedy of the past few years is truly over, and now I’m just left to reap the rewards of victory…in my case the rewards that accompany just being alive. Perhaps the greatest battle I’ve ever weathered…and of course I didn’t do it alone.

Why else would things be going this way? I’m wrong to question it, I like it. I’m slowly coming to the realization that I have everything I’ve been pining for for the past year or so. There is no reason to feel uncertain about things right now…except to say that they could change again. That they could change back. This too could be as fleeting as my own feelings. Those feelings I was so sure I could let go of…

These stories of late have kept me going. Stories of mismatched romance, determined heroism, complete lack of fear of the unknown. I wish to know these characters better, to spend time with them, if only to let them know the effect that they’ve had on my life. I already feel the presence of their spirit so much in my own. So many characters inside me. I have to wonder how much of me is composed of fictional characters. Have I become more brave, more courageous by spending time in the wild with Katniss? Have I become more foolish and unobservant to the effect I have on those around me? Though I’ve heard that I’m fairly adept in that category already…I wonder how much of that is true.

this is just sad everyone else is gone and yet I sit here alone with my computer, wishing I could be there taking part in this one final journey…I know it doesn’t matter, I was there with him when it mattered but I still can’t help but feel a pang of…guilt.

But there was so much pain…there’s always pain and I can’t help but wonder how infectious it could be. I would latch onto it, I would savor it. Enjoying the sense ¬†that there will always at least be sadness to keep me feeling. Sadness is just happiness for deep people right? But what do you think? What do you really think? If you could find the words…what would you say now?

It’s unbelievable how much I allow the stories to come into my heart. There are times when I catch myself not really thinking about my life or my decisions for entire days at a time. Instead I approach my problems as they would, I try to decide how they would solve them. They help me be strong at times too. Imagining what they’ve had to overcome, believing that I can get through the things that plague me if they could fight off dragons and governments to be with the ones they love. I feel such a kinship with some of them, especially Katniss right now. When there are so many things to concern yourself with; family, survival, keeping yourself on task; how do you go about letting love into your life? But you do, because you can’t help it, and because love can be simply unstoppable. All the denial in the world can’t cloud the obvious…

I just can’t help myself anymore. It’s always been this way, but I was too decent to admit it then. Now there’s nothing in the way of my heart letting my feelings reach my brain, and they have, perhaps too much. I’m beginning to wonder at what point in this post I should have stopped writing…at what point I’ll regret having written it at all. Which word begins to ruin things again…or fix them. At what point do you realize that it’s all really about you?…I shouldn’t have said that.

there’s nothing left to say, nothing left to tell. You know it all, and it’s all still true…my rational side firmly believes that you already know all of this. I don’t see how you couldn’t, but I’m open to another surprise…that’s how it all started anyway. That’s what I need now, another shock that’ll stop me in my tracks.


To Feel Like I Belong

Lately I’ve been doing one thing, even though I’m at work and supposed to be focused on coding and matlab all I can think about is Doctor Who. As a result I keep thinking about time travel, what it would be like to travel through time and space. Where I could go, who I could meet. The things that I could try to change…so many things. Life could be so different, if only a fantastic man with a sonic screwdriver and big blue box fell out of the sky and took me away. While I know that’s ridiculous, the whole concept really has got me thinking. So here are some of the things that have been on my mind of late…you know in relation to time travel.


I wonder sometimes, as I’m sure we all do at times, if I was placed into the right time. Of all the things in life that we can’t control our own birth probably tops the list…well depending on your metaphysical perspective. It’s hard to have a really good understanding of any other time period of course. No matter how much you research, read, watch, you will always be merely an observer of the times you haven’t lived through. Our perspectives are temporally locked in the brief spit of time that we’ve been unwillingly born into.


It’s not that I’ve always felt that I don’t belong in this time period. I have to be honest where that’s concerned. I would love to have the opportunity to explore other time periods, but there are things in this timeline that I need. The current advances in Neuroscience that will allow me to have a job in a few years, the people I’ve met along this path that allow me to keep going every day. The respect and pride that I have earned from my family through the hard work in the sciences that I have done. I’m relatively happy here. There are cool breezes to brush my cheek on my walk to work in the morning. Warm rain, and loving sunlight…reflected moon beams. I rely on the ground beneath my feet, suppose that’s all I really need. As long as I don’t think about it too much I don’t have to search to find beauty in this world, it’s simply everywhere.


Those moments when I feel happy…they used to be far more plentiful, but now they seem so spaced out. There are moments of quiet, calm, stillness and peace but not what I would describe as happiness. It’s not a bad thing…but I used to describe every day as happy. Perhaps my reasons for doing so were misguided, perhaps my perception of happiness was different then. For whatever reason I don’t feel it now the same way I did years ago. I think, in the common tongue, this is known as growing up…maybe it’s something else.


In Doctor Who the Doctor’s companion Rose is trapped in an alternate timeline without him. Whenever you see her there she just looks so…lost. So out of place without him. The Doctor didn’t give her any choice in the matter, there was no other way. Even if I was in the wrong timeline, how could I possibly know?

What if somewhere in the past, some decision I’ve made or turn I didn’t take that put me where I am, what if it changed things. Not necessarily a change for the worse…but still a change. I used to feel happy, like I belonged in this temporal pattern without question, but now I wonder if there isn’t some other time when I would be happier or perhaps just another dimension. If my choices led me here, perhaps at some point in the past…I made the wrong choice, and now I simply don’t belong. I’m on borrowed time.


Of course that’s a thought that’s gone through my mind many times before. If I had been born 30 maybe 40 years earlier, I could very well be dead right now. For two years now, my existence has been due in part to the time I was born. Some would argue this should be reason enough to be satisfied that I was born in this time period and they’d probably be right. I wish that I could say that the experience has given me a new lease on life and encouraged me to make the most of it from now on. I can’t say that it’s done the opposite exactly, but I don’t feel particularly motivated to do great and fantastic things. I guess it’s made me develop an appreciation for the “important” things. I suppose the fear of potential death turns down the volume on things that once motivated you.


There is still love of course. Love for my friends and family, and for myself. But finding love and feeling its presence is important to me. It’s something I wish I felt more of. Mostly I just feel apathy from others. At times I think i feel so much, but I’m not even sure that I know how to convey those feelings anymore. Time will tell.


I know I’m not the only one who feels lost in a time they had no say in being a part of. I’m know I’m not alone in feeling that my life may have taken a wrong turn somewhere. So what are we to do? Does teaming up make us feel any more a part of our times? Could it really change things? Or does it just give us more to live for. That couldn’t be a bad thing could it…just to have someone. Our time is so short, it will get away from us whether we want it to or not. Is it really worth waiting? I feel like that’s all I do anymore is wait. I wait for new semesters, for more people, just for more time to pass. Time changes things…changes people, ideas, opinions. With enough time…the whole world changes.


I can’t force time onward, I doubt I can directly change the course of the future in any major observable way. All I can do is wait, and hope, and occasionally dream. Wait and hope for another time when I feel truly satisfied with living again. Dream of the sort of life I wish I had, the feeling I wish I had when I woke up, or fell asleep. The realization that I can just say all the things I would like to, without fear of consequence. My humanity causes me to be bounded by my fear, so I can’t speak the thoughts that keep buzzing around in my mind every single day…not that I think it would change anything.


Well goodnight.