I Long For Home...

Walking down 67th street an inspiration from the breeze on my skin and setting horizon at me eyes:

Tonight is one of those night. One of those nights where it feels like home. Where is your home? Not a place...but a feeling. Not nostalgic, but the feeling most associated with your love of life. Tonight is one of those nights. My home is hanging out on a warm summer night with a hint of fall in the air. My home is friends huddled??????? in a car, driving with windows down and music an full blast. The cool music. The calm music. The only music that can complete this home. Home has smooth chords and soft beats; a lazy jazzy organ twidled????? to perfection. The melodies undulating warmth into my ears, my eyes, my mouth, my bones: Becoming inspirations of music, art, poetry and movements of dance. My home, my nature. Beginning at dusk and continuing past dawn...I long for home, again.

"I like my spine chilled...shaken, not stirred."

This was a not I wrote to myself on the bus in NY. I couldnt get to a computer right away so I wanted to get it out before I had lost it:

9-17-04
9:57a

I saw Howard Roark today. Or at least what my mind has made him up to be. And he was beautiful. I was walking past the bus station, talking to a friend, and emerging from the doors at the top of the steps was a tall man about 6 foot (maybe more) with reddish hair hair, blue eyes, slim but slightly build. He wasnt looking in my direction. He looked to the left, to his right. To the corner of 42nd and 8th, His mouth was stern, a straigt line in a square jaw. And his eyebrows were scrunched slightly, not a frown, but a look of concentration. He wore blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt w/ a plaid flannet button down. He held a dark bag, a duffel I think, over one shoulder and his forearms looked strong under the rolled up sleeves. He was simply beautiful. He looked like he was on his way somewhere, (obviously) but his eyes were thinking. He didnt need to stop walking to think, to get overwhelmed by the city and its tall buildings and masses of crowds. He knew. He was sure. That was the certainty in which he moved. Someone who was not afraid. Not afraid of the rivers of cars, of its capitalism...if that's the right word. He was unfaulteringly beautiful! I wonder where he was going, where he was coming from, what he was going to do. Everything my friend was saying was blocked by his presence. I had forgotten altogether that she was there. She was nothing more than a muffled noise that faded into the background. I could feel no floor, I could see nothing but him...for that one instant. It was funny how I noticed him. Just walking along, I glanced to the doors from out of habit and I glanced him without noticing. As soon as I lost eye sight of him, by brain decoded the information and before I realized, I was taking a second glance...staring. Not voluntarily staring of course. Besides, I was only looking for less than half a second, literally. And can you believe that in that very moment I could have shat and vomitted at the same time? This rare occurence, this amazing coincidence. And what amazes me most is that a figment of my imagination lives and breathes as a real person! This could be dangerous, if I see him again. It would be amazing, but I fear I have blured the lines of fantasy and reality. How has this complete stranger become the greatest spectale of beauty I've ever seen? I'm sure he knows nothing of the games my mind plays, but I wonder who does? I mean, what other person would act like I do? Am I mad, crazy, insane??? Why would I long to meet a character of a book that is completely fictional??? It feels as though I'm setting myself up for disappointment! I feel soooooo stupid and embarassed reading this back to myself. One of these days I'm going to get myself into some real trouble confusing my thoughts with the truth. Anyway, I'm positive this guy doesn't have anywhere near the ideals that Ayn Rand gave to the character of Howard Roark. Roark...what a name. As far as I'm concerned, this guy is a psycho until proven innocent. JESUS! I haven't the time to be putting myself through this shit!

::sigh::

I remember in high school I still had imaginary friends. Not nany that I could physically see or actually had tea parties with or anything. But I remember doing things, like watching television in my room and pretending there was someone there watching wiht me, laughing as I laughed, feeling what I felt. I havent done that in a long while. Probably because I have a BF and all. Ya know, someone around me all the time. So I wouldn't really have time to let my mind wander like that. But I did it yesterday for the first time since...since 3 years ago. I know what it means now. It means that I'm lonely again. For the first time in nearly 3 years, I'm lonely.

.......................................

Had lunch with kitty today. We shared a pizza and went to an internet cafe. She's dating a guy who's getting married, or at lest wantes to get married to his GF. I'm not sure why. Perhaps out of obligation? Seems she has a make believe love as well...


[note: kitty has been changed to protect their current existence]

new drug

I went to Ayn Rand's philosophy website and I think that I've found my new obsession. Objecivism. I loved nothing more of her character, Howard Roark, than his ability to be unmoved by the things around him. Nothing budged him because he knew that nothing, in all of nature, could prevent him from doing what needed to be done. Growing up in america, we have been brainwashed early on to believe that if yo have no money or possessions you have nothing. Hmm...Objectivism:

ob·jec·tiv·ism   (Pronunciation Key)  (ob-jek-te-vi-zem) n.

1. Philosophy. One of several doctrines holding that all reality is objective and external to the mind and that knowledge is reliably based on observed objects and events.
2. An emphasis on objects rather than feelings or thoughts in literature or art.

This is a bit of what I read from Ayn Rand's site:

At a sales conference at Random House, preceding the publication of Atlas Shrugged, one of the book salesmen asked me whether I could present the essence of my philosophy while standing on one foot. I did as follows:

"1. Metaphysics: Objective Reality
2. Epistemology: Reason
3. Ethics: Self-interest
4. Politics: Capitalism

If you want this translated into simple language, it would read:

1. "Nature, to be commanded, must be obeyed" or "Wishing won't make it so."
2. "You can't eat your cake and have it, too."
3. "Man is an end in himself."
4. "Give me liberty or give me death."

If you held these concepts with total consistency, as the base of your convictions, you would have a full philosophical system to guide the course of your life. But to hold them with total consistency—to understand, to define, to prove and to apply them—requires volumes of thought. Which is why philosophy cannot be discussed while standing on one foot—nor while standing on two feet on both sides of every fence. This last is the predominant philosophical position today, particularly in the field of politics.

My philosophy, Objectivism, holds that:

1. Reality exists as an objective absolute—facts are facts, independent of man's feelings, wishes, hopes or fears.
2. Reason (the faculty which identifies and integrates the material provided by man's senses) is man's only means of perceiving reality, his only source of knowledge, his only guide to action, and his basic means of survival.
3. Man—every man—is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life.
4. The ideal political-economic system is laissez-faire capitalism. It is a system where men deal with one another, not as victims and executioners, nor as masters and slaves, but as traders, by free, voluntary exchange to mutual benefit. It is a system where no man may obtain any values from others by resorting to physical force, and no man may initiate the use of physical force against others. The government acts only as a policeman that protects man's rights; it uses physical force only in retaliation and only against those who initiate its use, such as criminals or foreign invaders. In a system of full capitalism, there should be (but, historically, has not yet been) a complete separation of state and economics, in the same way and for the same reasons as the separation of state and church."

Now, I was all for Ayn until she mentioned the seperation form state and church. This country was founded by protestants. It brings me back to the aricles of taking "in God we trust" off of the money as well as eliminating bible readin and prayers from the public schools. It seems thoguh that this is the right thing to do only because a public school is government property and so it currency. But, if we eliminate God from out government, it will be like saying "our country does not believe in God, only certain individuals". which is primarily true. but if God was removed, then on what morale will the government be run? Dont they know that the laws against stealing (theif), murder (homicide), adultry (incompetence), etc. etc. are all based on factors from the bible? Well, I guess our goverment is on its way out to being athiest anyway, with the brainwashing of product (i.e. "For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows." 1 Timothy 6:10).

Well, I guess that's that. But I'm still intetersted in learning about the philosophies of Objectivism. I need something to make me stronger, but I'm sure you've read your fill of that from my last post...


I'm supposed to be going out to lunch with kitty around 1pm today. I'm glad, I haven't seen her in a few weeks. I'll try not to be too excited when we meet.



[note: kitty has been changed to protect their current existence]

Sorry It's Been Forever...

Sorry it's been forever but for the past few weeks or so I've been getting very deep into the Ayn and's book
Fountianhead. I admit that it was boring me to tears until I came into chapter 2 of Part 2 (or page 216 to be more exact). Then the book became increasingly interesting after that. I'm still in the middle somewhere but I can not imagine what else could happen. My feeble litle mind cannot perdict what whirlwind of psychology I will be swept into in the next pages coming...

But last night I had an apiphany about the red-haired architect Howard Raork; the unfearing man who laughs in the face of those who can control his wealth and his perception to others. But he remains rock solid (as his physique) in his assurance of himself and his art. Then I wonder to myself: What is it to be this man, this character of a man? To know nothing of fear, to remain calm and strong in the face of authority. Perhaps women have been conditioned to be the second, always. To be the one behind the man; to be the soft one, the quiet one, the delicate one. And I do not want to be delicate anymore. I see men walking down these streets of New York, straight backed, tall, head high and with a confident stride. I want that. They look as if they had control over evey aspect of their being. Though when the wealth is taken away from these men, I wonder how strong they will actually be. I want to know what it is to be a man in a woman's body. Not a woman denying her sexuality, but a woman without the fear and meekness of a woman. I know all women are not this way, and perhaps this is a way to actually see what's inside myself. But I want to be strong. I want to not have to care and not be afraid of men. It's more than a want, it's a need. I NEED THIS. I need to know that what I do is absolute and not second guessed. I have an occupation of the arts to give to the world. I can not be afraid that what I give is not correct. I want the assurance of Howard Roark. I want his hard body to be my soul. I want to be firm and confident and direct, you know? Unfaultering.

But how do I do this? Roark's character ws 22 when he left (or was expelled) from his school, studying architecture. He was dismissed because eh refuse to reproduce what he did not believe. He had an understanding of his work that no one could grasp. He was alone in his beliefs and everyone bashed him for it. And they were afraid of him. Afraid of what they could not understand. I want to have that comprehension. I need no one to be able to touch what I know because I will know only that which is my concept. And I will know theirs, and I will not be suprised when someone comes out of some other angle to break me. That's what I need. I am 22 now, I will say that I was one step ahead of Roark by leaving my university at 21, leaving behind 3 years of malice. Though I can not say al of that time was wasted. And I am here now in new york, learning a new trade, trying to cover all bases in my field. Roark didnt go back to school to waste more money. He dove right into his profession, with no fear. I suppose I'm afrad of not being abe to eat, or take a shower, or wonder where I'll sleep. But I cant anymore. I have to fight this thing. This beast called fear. I have to overcome and devour it, so that I can know the powers of the beast and defile it. Pick it apart. Expose it. Laugh at it and drink out of it's skull. I have to become the beast.