This is an interesting question I picked up off a website I came across today:
“If you could only say one word for a day, what would it be?”
Now, that means I would be resorting to prehistoric Neanderthal behavior, long before humans developed a complex system of language. I’d be like a baby again, saying the same word over and over again or even like a Pokemon saying just its name.
If I said any other word besides the one I had pledged to only say for approximately 24 hours, I’d have a poisonous serum injected into my system. Or my mind would just be locked into a mode that only allows that one word.
The word would probably be “Tomorrow”, because there is always tomorrow to get things done. I’m a bit of a procrastinator and tend to put things off until later.
I posed with a Slurpee on 7/11/16, extending my other arm with the phone out to take this. My phone only has a rear facing camera so I couldn’t view my face on the screen in the process, which leads to numerous bad shots that are off center or blurry. It looks like I have brown eyes in this picture but they are actually electric blue.
I don’t take too many selfies anymore because I am tired of being self-absorbed in my own appearance. I occasionally post selfies on Instagram and then delete then if they receive zero likes because I’ve got OCD.
The year of the sheep
It’s treated me well
Became a full time blogger
Had much to sell
Setting the bar higher
Perfecting my game
Going the distance
Frame by frame
Flew in as a bird Tiptoed through poetry
Through the rain and snow April showers came down upon me
While May clouds opened up
Shown much brighter
New opportunities arose
Now I feel like a fighter
Reaching for success
But let’s not get overzealous
For I’ve got hills to climb
This uphill war
Always one trick away
From opening the wrong door
And being blasted back
By flames of Daunte
To dusting myself off
And moving ahead: “Andale!”
For I dream of green
Raining down upon me
And the kiss of roses
And gold paved streets
The train’s still racing in dreamland
Reality man’s getting anxious to meet
Time to leave this town
This godforsaken town
And get away from it all
Live a life of dreams
Have my doors be way tall
My paradise would be halfway cross the world
Wearing faded cutoff jeans
I’d be sipping from a foggy glass of
Sweet pina colada
Crashing waves, birdie screams
My back in a chair
Feet in the hot sand
Nothing but blue sky
And the beat of a slow jam
No troubles, no worries
No job, no tasks
It’s the kind of moment
Only ones in a fairytale could ask
It’s the typical image of paradise
Most dream of, but are alluded
Since reality is still here
And money can’t be muted
There is however
A paradise not far
Resides in my mind
A fantasyland under stars
Where I can dream all day
Until the sun sets down
Until reality snaps me back to life
And I’m back in my little ordinary town
So our eyes are the main reason the world is like it is today, why the use of different shades of colors to convey different meanings matters so much, why attention to intricate detail is a big priority in the end, why photography, television, or movies even exist. Everything that was created or written down, every tall skyscraper erected, every movie produced or photo taken, every sports game ever played, is because we not only have a wonderful sense of vision but also the awareness and intelligence to use it in a way no other species has come remotely close to. Humans see the world as their own and have always had a mission to shape it in their minds desire. We’ve most likely been involved in the largest collaboration project ever, one that has spanned millions of years from the time man first learned to use tools – the project to shape planet Earth from its natural untouched state to a thriving ball of activity and creativity, and look how far we’ve come.
Our eyes collect so much data and world experiences over a lifetime that if you could somehow retrieve all of those pictures off our massive “hard drive” of a brain and load them onto a computer, you would probably fill its hard drive to its capacity in no time – and two terabytes is just not going to cut it.
Some of the best moments in my life witnessed with my own eyes:
Seeing everyone in my senior year, including me, finally reach the end of their long journey and graduate from high school.
Seeing myself graduating from college, receiving that degree.
Seeing my hands fumbling with that steering wheel, driving a car for the very first time.
Seeing the very first African American president, Barack Obama, elected in the United States in 2008.
Watching the Detroit Tigers storm to the World Series in 2006, getting in off of a Magglio Ordonez game winning home run, ending an era of struggles and embarrassment.
And the worst moments:
Watching the Tigers get clobbered in that 2006 series against St. Louis, 4 games to 1
Boston Marathon Bombings
My second grandmother dying in 2003 (or seeing her struggle with cancer beforehand)
The acne years
And yet another acrostic poem keeping with the trend of previous posts:
Outlook beyond the world so vast Prairies and fields, mountains and grass Toward enlightenment, the vibrant of the soul Ice storms rain down, crater sized hole Counting off calendar years, eager for tomorrow Asking now, not when Lit a fire, warmed away sorrow
Don’t be a nosy Rosie. Keep your nose out other people’s business. Got your nose. Keep your nose to the grindstone.
These are just a couple of common sayings people have used that wordplay on our device of smell. Some interesting things about the grindstone saying: it apparently originated from millers putting their noses to a millstone or grindstone in order to check that the wheel used to grind cereal wasn’t overheating, but another origin theory is that putting your nose to a grindstone was a punishment of hard labor for workers, which is the general meaning for the saying today: keeping focused on your work.
The scents of things that worked my olfactory nerves today:
Glazed chicken in cranberry sauce
Peanut butter sandwich
Crunchy almond cereal and milk
New smells, mind excited Olfactory itches, image brightens Sweet scents of rose, foul odors of gas Everything counts, keep it to the grindstone and stay in class!
Continuing the theme of the human anatomy from last post, I explore the far regions, ahem, of the mouth – and this isn’t just strictly the eating mouth, it could be the mouth of a cave or river or the opening to anything in general such as a trombone. Our mouths are used for a number of things, ranging from eating, drinking, tasting, talking, singing, kissing, and making facial expressions. And some people use their mouth way too much, as in never learning to just shut up!
Making vocal imagination and Opening to hungers satisfaction Under the bridge, the river opens To teeth chattering inside How her lips tremble with mine
Legs seem to be universal, something that is found in nearly every living and non-living thing. Humans have them, animals have them, insects have them, desks, chairs, and kitchen appliances as well. They help in movement and support, are a thing nature decided millions of years ago would be beneficial in helping organisms with finding food and running away from being food. We all seem to operate on an even number of legs since that is nature’s way of keeping everything balanced. Of course, some animals developed wings for better survival, but they still use their legs for those times when it isn’t a pressure situation involving the fight or flight response, when they can just tromp across a fence or wire like it’s Sunday morning.
My two legs these days probably don’t get as much exercise as they should, since I have been stuck in front of my computer most of this year, only occasionally going outside to take some pictures or look for the cat that went missing for two straight days (he comes back eventually after a night on the town).
My acrostic poem for legs:
Little engines, pumping pistons Energy propelled, man on a mission Going places in a hurry, fast as a fly Swamp waterup to your knees, jump high, touch the sky
Kafkaesque is a word I was first introduced to from an episode of the third season of Breaking Bad when Jesse was attending group therapy. In response to Jesse saying he was afraid to meet the owner of the laundromat everyone was afraid of (Gus Fring), the group leader noted it “sounds kind of Kafkaesque.” It may sound like a weird word but break it down and it describes anything that suggests or relates to Franz Kafka or his writing, especially anything “nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or of illogical quality.” Feelings of senselessness, disorientation, and helplessness usually occur afterward. The Kafkaesque of daily blogging. Yikes! I think it’s pronounced “kavka” by the way.
Franz Kafka was obviously a brilliant writer to have a word named after himself. His writings often were dark, vague, and frightening in nature, which may be why the term Kafkaesque came into nature to describe situations relating to his writing style. His wish to his friend and publisher, Max Brod, was to have his writings, published and unpublished, burned after his death, but Max saved them anyway until they were confiscated by the Gestapo, some bureaucratic German police force I think, later on – sounds kind of Kafkaesque, huh?
The cockroach is often used as a symbolic image of Kafkaesque, in many forms, comical and serious.
Here are some things considered Kafkaesque – bizarre and illogical:
My journey to the cosmos
Was full of wonder and awe
Floated weightlessly through a vacuum
Saw burning comet in freefall
Passing by the dark side
The moon’s eerie loneliness
Looking back at the blue marble
What great home it is
Electric star dust,
Saturn’s icy rings,
Mars red crust
All of Jupiter’s moons were visible
By the red eye light
A swirling vortex of a storm
That provokes neither fight nor flight
My ship of imagination had no limitations
Could reach the speed of light,
Pass through black holes,
Go through rocky storms
Find things no one yet knows
This sea of dark matter
Undetected, stealthy, dangerous
For no sound comes from
The wild unknown frontier
A tiny pinpoint of it
Being lit by a burning crimson
Year after mythical year
Inspired by the show “Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey” that was hosted by Neil Degrasse Tyson back in 2014. I deeply loved the show and was so enchanted by the realism of the space scenes and “the ship of the imagination” that Degrasse Tyson flew around in during the episodes. The show really did the original that was hosted by Carl Sagan justice and likely improved upon it though I have never seen it to really get an honest opinion.
And of course Neil is known for another thing, other than being a superstar astrophysicist: