Hello, I'm your Friendly, Neighborhood INSOMNIAC, and this is my blog.

Who's with me? Project: Revolution

Join me on my Late-Night Journies

Let me tell you one of my Bed-Time Stories


<< February 2008 >>
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Words to live by...

"This above all: to thine own self be true."
-William Shakespeare, HAMLET

"Anything less than extraordinary is a waste of time."
-Tiffanie DeBartolo, 'Dream for an Insomniac'

"No day but today."
-Jonathan Larson, RENT

"It's alright it's ok
Welcome to this life
Don't worry sweet baby
Cuz it's over before you know"
-Leah Andreone, 'It's Alright It's OK'

"Nothing in the world is weaker than water,
But it has no better in overcoming the hard."

"Name me the final number."
-Yevgeny Zamyatin, We

Some beautiful people...

"In the quest for knowledge through experiences, the soul becomes fragile."

"Funny how hard it is to convey satire to crackwhores."
-The Tubby Parcel

"I'm going to be one of those hermits who talks to her cat and lives in huge paranoia and doesn't sleep."

"There is no true Right or Wrong.
No absolute Good or Evil.
No Truth... No Lies.
No Black or White.
Everything is relative, perceived.
There are Just Shades of Grey."

"...the only stupid or unreasonable mindset is one that is prematurely closed."

"There was a point to this story, but the narrator lost it somewhere along the way."

"The hues that color the myriad worlds of the imagination are so vivid, so compelling that all too often mere 'reality' can't compete."

"Soon enough, my armies of flying monkeys, toasters, and the undead will march upon an unsuspecting world. Well, I suppose the monkeys will fly. No use in having flying monkeys and having them march like the rest of the cannon fodder."

"sometimes i think that it's the noise stars make that keeps me awake at night."

"for the desperate attempts i have made to feel content, i must now stop. i can not live, blurred."

"Why did I get a tattoo on my wrist? So I won't slash them! I'd hate to ruin the tattoo."

"There's a lot of silence I want to say."

"A desire runs in your blood, while a need causes that blood to run."

"Sadness sells,
But I'd rather support your smile."


"I like guacamole, too. But not as much as Gandalf."

"as you trace the outline of your feet on the ground, it suddenly occurs to you how bloody human you are. you look at yourself as though you haven't done so before. and then you begin a thorough exploration of self"

"Interesting fact: Most tropical marine fish could survive in a tank of wild urban-jungle monkey blood.
But I personally wouldn't recommend trying it."

"i'm an equal opportunity insulter."

All works and material on this blog are ME 2005 unless otherwise specified.

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In the digital age, you can seal your fate with the click of a button.
Events which occured hundreds of years ago have put me where I am today.  Have put you where you are today.  The advantages and disadvantages given to you and me at birth were determined way before we were conceived.
An idea turned the fate of this nation.  A plane destroyed years of security and well-being.
An entire semester is reduced to a single letter, and an academic career turned into a number.
A person is reduced to a statistic.
A life is consolidated into a number.
Are you a number?  Or is your life worth more than that?
I am not a number.  Whatever I do with this life, I want to be worth more than the sum of my parts.  Some aspects of my life were determined before my creation, but my life is my own.  I will determine the rest of it.
Some would say there are no choices, that destiny is decided.  Some would reduce the entirety of creation to a single figure.
I disagree.
A life is not a number.  A person is made up of so many words and colors and memories and glances and sighs and ideas.  And yes, numbers.  Many, many numbers.
If you hit someone enough, if you hit and kick and stab and abuse someone, they are going to lash out.  With every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.  You can't expect to hit someone and not get hit in return.  If you bash in a brain, if you hit it and abuse it and deny enough, those ideas, those memories, those colors are going to fade.
  We all end.  Whatever you do, you will one day cease to exist.
  Without purpose, a hand is only a thing.  Without meaning, a thing is only an object in space.  An object breaks down in time; eventually, it is all dust. Nothing lasts forever.  But ideas, memories, colors, numbers, they last if they're recorded.  A memory passed on becomes another memory--new and different, but preserved.  Immortal.  In the end, we only live on through what we've done with the time we're given.
  I don't know what I'll do, what I'm doing.  I only know I am one.  And I will do what I can with what I've been given.

Posted at 06:42 pm by FNInsomniac


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