I am not particularly worried because she will necessarily learn critical thinking skills if I am sure to be a big part of her life.

By way of observing my methodology dealing with problems, she should generally absorb them. I also plan on teaching her a lot while she is in school. I don't think she should wait until college to learn about relativity or fractal geometry...

The 'specialness' I refer to has to do with qualities that are more complex than what she learns after being born. There are qualities of genetic disposition, there is the complex mosaic of influences from many sources that will form her id, there are other factors.

It means that she will be driven by something that I will ultimately not have control over. It will have to do with her unique experience.

I am not worried that she will become religious. I don't think that I have to do anything to her. I find it particularly egregious to presume that I should inflict any more control on her thinking and behavior than I do by just being an involved father.

Even when she is young, it is her mind and her body and she will have her opinions. We won't always agree and sometimes I'll be right and sometimes she will.

Basically though I have not an ounce of fear that she will lack rationality. That singular quality will solve any other problems she has. Even if she were to be a christian. So long as she is rational, she will treat people right and be a good person. If for some reason in her life she feels the need to indulge in myth, so be it, I suppose.

It isn't my life. It doesn't belong to me. It's her's and she'll live it the way that she chooses.

The click click of his typewriter filled the otherwise hollow silence of his abode. Click clack clack. Built upon his concepts of self and society he constructed a landscape of meaning to disrupt the baron reality that was explicit as his surroundings.

'Click clack... another senseless design. There was little for him to sound off to. Besides the echo of meaning... there was little. It's not really that there was nothing as at all. It felt meaningless.

Where upon the idea of man does the writer find his meaning? Somehow the idea that meaning was implict offended him. He sought something greater, something solid. It should have a decisive impact, he decided. There should be more to wandering through varied context than strict interpretation with a weakness for perception.

It seemed to him like every time that he found an explicit meaning to the things he wrote, it vanished easily. Like every drip of meaning he could squeeze from his experieinces relied upon his painfully faulty sense of self. Why shouldn't he find the definite in his search for meaning?

'Gosh', he thought, 'Why is it that the solution to the problems I face seems to elude me?'

'Not so much in my solutions as it is in their finality. The solutions are ever present. When I attack myself to resolve my problems, I find reasons for being and guilt to assume.'

'I remain haunted. My dreams are full of my failures. Despite my best attempts to exorcise my humanity by way of logic, I am still a man possessed. If anything I feel more stricken daily by my weakness and reason remains my mistress and my accomplice in misery.'

His eyes felt like glass. His breath was cold and his chest shuddered to move. Misery motivated him, he felt compelled to break free, to use his lansdcape for an outlet only of his impulses. There was no hope of relief through this land. At best he could find benediction in his shame.

He sobbed quietly to himself. He thought perhaps he could find solace in another. He sought silence and in it some kind of salvation. Cruelly, he thought humanity offered in it a solution to his pain, but really it's self-indulgence was only the manifestation of the concept of his potential for humanity in the illusions of another.

He sought recognition through a broken lens. His life would never have true meaning. The more he thought he knew, the more he would isolate himself. Trapped in the broken world of decided meaning, he would continue to ache always for a solution.

A while back, I began to write on my thoughts on love.

While breaking the white plane that holds my words... I discovered something that unsettled me. I discovered that I didn't know how I felt about love. How I felt about myself and how I love.

It was as if what love really meant to me was cut into jigsaw shapes and scattered across my mind for me to attempt to decypher. It was agonizing really, for me to see the truth. The truth was that I didn't know what love meant to me.

I did understand, however, that while I worked towards the inevitable conclusion, I would open doors that I had unwittingly kept or left shut. So after dealing with a bit of regret for my lost years, I moved on to develop what love means to me.

I've loved greatly, but selfishly. I don't think that I'm the only one. I've loved others to the end of my ability. That is one thing that despite my best efforts, I did right.

The problem, the real source of malcontent in my life - in my relationships - was that I loved to be loved more than I loved to give love. In that way I was selfish and destructive.

After taking some time and reflecting upon my past and coming to terms with the mistakes I've made, I'm graced with the opportunity to heal; forgiveness for my past mistakes.

Futhermore, I wasn't all bad. When I was lost and hopeless and I loved someone who wouldn't have ever left my side, I spent some of my last money to help her move to a place that she could fulfill her dreams. It was a single selfless act amid a sea of self-loathing. I knew it was her dream and I could see what obstructed her path to her goals. I recognized myself to be the problem, and I stood aside.

In that way, I was brave. In some small ways, I always have been. But now, because of time, because of the beauty of grace, I have the opportunity to move forward.

It feels really good to feel that I know what love and relationships mean to me. It feels good to have processed the meaning of the broken pieces. What I have may not be a seamless image with unbroken purity, but surely is a mosaic with facets that would otherwise be unattainable.

"Hahaha... whatever man," he said. His mind ruffled at the accusations.

Of course he was having a good time. This was his party after all. After all this work, all this expended time and effort, obviously he was going to have a good time.

His mind scanned the horizon and found all the familiar shapes, the representations of the sultry, the forbidden. Shuffling along from temptation to temptation, gorging himself on hearty indulgance.

His wrinkled conscience brushed again against his insistant attitude. "Hahaha..," he laughed. What an absurd notion, everything is wonderful, everything is great.

"Look around at all the people having such a good time. That is proof that all is well." He stated.

He looked out again, this was his party after all. After all this work, all this expended time and effort, obviously he was going to have a good time.

He scanned the horizon and found all the familiar shapes, the idolist forms of excess. Slogging along, being drenched in the essence of hedonism.

His conscience whispered to him, "All is not as it appears."

"Hahaha...," his eyes scanned quickly across the horizon for an example of the proven success of his juxtaposition. All the people were having fun. "That is proof that all is well" he assured himself.

He looked around, this was his party after all. He'd sacrificed everything, this was his payoff. What else did he have?

He wandered more... suffocated by all that surrounded him. He felt dirty. His conscience said to him, "You're deceiving yourself, all is not as it appears." His mind clawed at him to shake free of the illusion.

"You're having an overdose, just try to calm down." he heard. His party began to melt away. The lights and sounds faded.

He looked up into the eyes of the emt and looked down at his shirt removed from his body. He shuddered to himself.

"What did you take?" said the emt.

It's a fact. I'll keep expressing the same basic pattern through my writing somehow.

Even though every road looks different, it still bares the same basic structure. I'm not going to go from carbon based to silicon based any day soon.

As rabidly happy as I am to be working towards becoming a successful promoter, I'm simultaneously terrified. The name of the game though is pretend not to be scared.

Or at least that's how I perceive it. Jump headlong into uncertainty with a smile on your face and refuse to show any sign of insecurity. Sometimes it works out very well at other times it does not.

I don't know if I necessarily accept the doctrine. I like to admit my insecurities. I feel far more comfortable with them in the open than I do attempting to mask them with smoke and mirrors.

I think walking around with the necessary stage props may be a bit telling, actually.

To be successful in the entertainment industry, must I maintain the visage? If this is truly what I wish to do, am I to contradict what I'm taught?

It seems like my mentor is a bit psychotic.

The time given

Today... or tomorrow... or when?

The dream built against my life. Like weight given to unforgeivable happenstancs, I am crushed.

For I, unlike you, have not sustained the continuance of expectation. I have been crushed. For I have not agreed to be that which has been spoken; I am dead.

Not like you, I must be nothing. Without the perscribed form, I fall from grace of decided position into the recesses of not-alike.

I am not to be given the circumstances of normality. I am the challenged. I am the disadvantaged.

Blame, must be given, blame to my parents? Blame to myself. I am nothing.

For circumstance abounds, however situation is unforgivable. So like I should be, I am judged by my years and not my means and judged against my accomplishments as a failure.

And so another receeds, unforgiven, unforgivable. I am the nothing. I am not worth mentioning. I'll be forgotten by history as one of the tens, thousands, millions, billions that were not great. For this, I am to blame.

Don't cry for me, for those few who could will have, and thought should not be given.

The past is gone, but we all will meet, for the well drawn upon is shared by all.

All is ironic, all is karmic. We try to change that which is for we seek the light of the future. That is humanity. Some will drink deeply of it, others will shun it.

Those who choose to give of their perscription of value will be quenched of thirst. Lacking sacrifice, some will find drought of the waters. Eternity grants to all, everything.

Absolute release is absolute fulfillment. Everything is nothing, nothing is everything. Om; the tao; YHVH... all and nothing... now only and forever.

Click click, what am I looking for?

Click click, it's death.

Click click, it's financial ruin.

Click click...

What's going to be behind the next link? What am I looking for?

I'm consumed. I sit and search for more information. I wander the desert of hope; nothing can quench my thirst. It's another tirade. It's another lost night.

I was sleepy, see. That's how it began. Tired again, wanting sleep. Then I took the plunge. Typing out news.google.com is almost like breathing. The letters appear without thought. Intention is almost non-existent; it's like breath pouring into empty space, the words are there.

Command. Enter. Whatever. It's that fucking return button. Now I'm done for. I've been stupid enough to look at the world again. What am I in for now?

I can look into dynamic, complex situations and see through the various layers of intent and intrigue as if simple cellophane. Where others see images, I see the network of desires like lenses and prisms filtering the light of truth.

Everyone understands things... I maybe just look a little harder. I just see a little farther. It's like looking at a book and feeling it's end. Seeing through the deception... Seeing the broken pieces of our desperately wounded reality.

What am I looking for? God, I don't even fucking know. It's not as if there is going to be a point where I am satisfied with my knowledge of the outcome.

It's a world built on eye for an eye... It's a world of tribes, of petty alliance. A world of supporting the weak for the sake of the individual's weakness. I'm speaking of nations. I'm speaking of turning the other way for war atrocities because sometimes it's easier just to kill a few hundred people than to lose power.

It's ok, everybody does it. Come on now... Who's next? The Jews got it during the holocaust, that means it's ok for them to kill 22 Palestinians because one soldier was kidnapped, right? Maybe right. Maybe.

Maybe it's ok that despite what anyone might say, they really believe that it's ok for an Iraqi to die. Maybe it's ok that in the Sudan children are being murdered, starved... Maybe because we don't have enough time on our news break to the new model of SUV.

Maybe that's fine.

What the fuck am I looking for?

Shit is fucked up. What the fuck am I looking for??? Someone like me just died, horribly. Again. Again.

I am tired of being afraid of being pegged as too political. I'm not going to be afraid to say something out loud. Are you afraid of saying it?

This world is fucked up and we are fucked up for not making the change now.

I know what I'm looking for.

I'm looking for change.

Sleet falls, keenly cool
The nose is sharply chilled
Something warm sounds nice

Me: I am one of the least intelligent people on the planet earth
Me: Thursday... day before b-day
Me: decision... let's go drinking
Me: drink, 375 mls of distilled vodka
Me: insert police officers
Me: insert rabid stupidity
Me: insert police brutality
R: yes of course, drinking day before b-day, perfect idea! mm distilled vodka and cops, hooray!
Me: output, bruised battered stupid fucker.
R: wth?
R: what did u do? haha
Me: with a couple hundred bucks in fines
Me: I decided that it is ME who says stays or goes from the church
R: haha
R: well I’m sure you're not the first person to do that
Me: and I wasn't on the go list
Me: no.
Me: and neither am I the first person to have road rash across 25% of his body
R: fack, what happened?
Me: I think the term is 'skull dragged;

R: decide resisting arrest had a nice ring to it?
Me: according to my crackhead cellmate
Me: didn't get charged with that
Me: I think they decided the beating was punishment enough
Me: :D
R: ugh
Me: trespass and disturbing the peace
Me: puts some SERIOUS perspective into ones life though
Me: you don't know how great freedom is until they take it away for 16 hours
Me: I think that was just about enough for me
Me: I’m TERRIFIED of prison now
Me: not just don't want to go there
R: well Denver cops are notorious for harsh arrests
Me: it makes me want to cry
R: heh
Me: I mean, real fear, being in jail and not knowing how bad a crime I committed
Me: I feel GOOD now
Me: like... I know just how limited our perceptions are of reality and our safety
Me: it's an illusion of safety in a police state
Me: is the reality of the situation
Me: on a whim... I lost 24 hours of my life and was beaten
Me: could have just gone free
Me: on a different whim
Me: could be going to jail for resisting
Me: it's an illusion
R: heh indeed
R: consistency is always an illusion
Me: I’m talking about choice
Me: choice is an illusion
Me: freewill
Me: <-- won't, but could become radically anti government after that
R: hehe you're already pretty anti-government
Me: no, I’m anti bush-government
R: do you think anarchy preferable to government now?
Me: I’m pro-pro-human-existence-type-government
R: yeah
Me: I think anarchy is the answer to government
R: aka government that doesn't do stuff to people, but asks them nicely
Me: and visa versa
R: heh
R: yeah pre-human-existence government is the way to go indeed
Me: no, government will always act with the tacit consent of the masses, possibly against the will of an individual
Me: you can't avoid that
Me: it's painfully contradictory I guess
Me: but it makes me want to buy a bunch of guns and a lot of land
R: governments can be run on the will of the minority against the majority... just depends which is more organized, the public or the government, it's no different than a war between 2 parties
R: wars can be won by smaller parties
Me: well, that's true in a plurality, like we exist in
Me: if we had true direct democracy, it'd be the will of people balanced between fears and rights
Me: rather than between two parties who sort of represent each group
R: aye
Me: which is preferable, by far
R: Government’s entire purpose is to fight people for control of people, they're organized whose existence is contingent on their ability to control others
Me: direct democracy is the answer
R: *organizations
Me: I prefer not to get into arguments of conservative v. liberal, I’d prefer to argue against our racist pluralistic voting system
Me: racist, oligarchy

R: hehe, I’m not conservative or liberal, I’m just an anarchist but meh, I know that wouldn't work either so it's all just fictional arguments I think
Me: sure, but the mechanism of control for the government dictates the fairness and responsiveness of the system to the will and needs of the people
R: true
Me: direct democracy = more responsive system than quadrennial pluralism
R: indeed