I don't feel the need for a title at the moment, but I gave it one anyway.

Some changes take time, others happen quicker than we are ready for. But if we don't prepare ourselves for the changes that happen in life, however quickly they may come at us, we will find that our skill to adapt and rise above in the face of adversity will always remain nothing more than a wave in the ocean, driven and tossed by the wind.

It breaks my heart to bare witness to such stubborn ways, having been a part of it for so long. I am only in touch with such heartbreak because I have chosen to acknowledge and take action against my own stubbornness, which will always be a part of me on some level, whether I choose to acknowledge it or not. This in turn indicates that there is always room to grow, a universal truth which I chose to embrace long ago. The greatest lesson I've learned as a result of this choice is that it never ends, it is made daily. Make no mistake: Change happens. The age old "life is 20/20 hindsight", which once ridiculed me, has earned the utmost of my respect. Wise is the soul who chooses to continually reflect upon the universal truth in that statement.

Universal truth cannot be contested by any individual from any walk of life, because it is disarming in nature and it demands your attention and respect. If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten. If you are unhappy but don't want to change, that's fine, you're free to choose your destiny. But save your rainy day murmuring for a conversation with yourself. This practice, which I am no stranger to, nor is any other human being alive today, produces nothing but a stagnant state of living. No man can help bring life to what refuses to live for itself, and may God bless the soul that advocates any of the many roads to death, for all will reap what they have sown, which is yet another universal truth embraced by all walks of life. Death only marks the beginning. A spiritual phrase coined by those who realize how diversely that word can be implied, just as equally mortally as immortally. And while you wallow in your pain, the world keeps turning while you toil in vain, trading fruit and joy for ashes in your mouth, and death in your heart. Refusing to fight is treason, against yourself and those dearest to you.

Hope can never be taken. It can only be given; given to others or given up. It is as empowering as one will let it be, and it costs everything and nothing. The more that hope is given to others, the more powerful it becomes, unlike temporal things, which are only as powerful as they are tangible. If you find your strength, hope and life only in what is tangible, what will you do if you lose it all? It's easy to dismiss this question, but it will echo in your head for the rest of your days if ever you do experience such a travesty. If that's what it takes for you to open your eyes, that's fine too, it's not as though you'll have anything else to focus on in such brokenness. It was only when I was broken physically, spiritually, and emotionally that I was ready to confront and focus on what really matters. Temporal things such as money, power, you name it, are only as powerful as they are tangible. The quicker one chooses to give up hope is the sooner they go nowhere, essentially defeating themselves, which in turn should just as soon enable one to realize what end the temporal and tangible will bring, despite the short lived pleasurable means experienced while on that road. That's all for now.

My Two Cent High Incentive Non Sensically Sensitive Consensus Of The Senses

For every word spoken, there is a word heard. Even if the words being spoken are only being heard by the person speaking, they still remain words that were spoken and heard, unless those words were spoken by a deaf person, and even then what is being said is still known to someone. When a word is spoken and heard, regardless of who hears it, it calls for an action. Action is the process or state of acting or of being active. The person or persons who hear the words being spoken by the person speaking them respond with an action that is triggered by the words that were spoken by the person who spoke them.

A response is an answer or reply, as in words or in some action. As loud as a word or words can speak or be spoken, they will always be outspoken by action. Responding with action has always spoken louder than words. Interestingly enough, as opposed to words or noise, silence is, more often than not, the most powerful action. Silence is as serene as it is tumultuous, and poses just as many questions as it answers. It is as quick to offend someone as it is to defend another. Some enjoy silence, while others are terrified of it. Some spend as much time searching for silence as they do running from it. It is self sustaining, mysterious and eternal, and would continue to exist if nothing else did, unlike noise.

Noise is fleeting, and can cease to exist as quickly as it was created. Noise could not exist without silence. At times it's impossible to hear silence over noise, but that doesn't mean it's not there. Both are a gift, and are rarely treated as such, much like the gift of hearing itself. Everyone enjoys stopping to smell the roses, but what if it were absolutely silent when you stopped to smell those roses? What if it were storming and a car alarm was going off in the distance when you stopped to smell those roses? What if an omnipresent Bach's Suite for Solo Cello no. 1 in G major played softly while you stopped to smell those roses? It would undoubtedly add to your experience, which means that every time you stop and smell the roses, it is as unique and meaningful an experience as the first time you smelled them. It gives noise a new opportunity: to mean something to you as opposed to nothing.

For better or worse, noise being made and noise being heard adds to everyone's experience. Noise, in its many forms, has been neglected, abused and abandoned much more than it has been cherished and used for good purpose. Regardless of where you are, the noises you hear are indicative of what has been happening, and more importantly, what could happen. This is as true today as it was at the beginning of time. While new noises are created everyday, there have always been and will always be noises that we could do without, most of which are noises we are responsible for.

Much like noise, words carry the same potential to have meaning. There was once a time when words meant more and were spoken less, whereas in this day and age, more words are being spoken and less is being said. In the end, I suppose it's all just noise, but deep down I have to believe that meaningful words trigger a response in me that has meaning, and if reflected upon accordingly in the silence, that meaningful response will reflect in the words I speak, and will trigger a meaningful response in the people hearing the words that I've spoken. It's a beautiful aspiration, and it's much like recycling, we can keep refining this process until we've eliminated useless and wasteful noise that holds no beneficial purpose or meaning dot dot dot

We all have a diction to feed.

I'm sitting here trying to think of something clever to typewrite, so as to feed a diction. Don't we all have a diction in our life? I wonder what my brother is doing right now. Would you like some food for thought? Try this: Is my brother sitting at his blogs compose window pondering the possibilities of what it is that I might be doing at this exact moment as well, in hopes of finding inspiration to feed a diction? If you know my brother, it's likely that you'd already know the answer to one such question, but it is more than likely that you don't know the answer to one such question, because I'm being thorough and shedding light on all possible scenarios. I am almost 90% certain that my brother is not feeding a diction right now by doing the same thing because he does not have a blog. If he does not have a blog to utilize a blog composing window, so as to contemplate on his blog what exactly it is that I may be trying to blog about or contemplate on my blog, than how could he be pondering the possibilities of what it is that I might be doing either in my day to day life, or on my blog, on his blog? The answer is this: he cannot.

What he can do is choose a diction and stick with it, or move on. When trying to step into the role of a writer, it is imperative to consider what a diction is to a writer. A diction is what keeps people coming back for more. A diction is often what defines someone, although it does not have to, and most of the time it defines them as a result of their choosing to let it. As experiential beings, we have been influenced by the environment in which we were raised. In time, ones environment may lead to or result in a diction. Seemingly, a diction will have short and long term effects on an individual that are either beneficial or detrimental. And while it is a case by case scenario, there is not necessarily a diction that is more befitting for one person than another. A diction is what it is. It drives us down dark roads so hauntingly familiar that we resolve never to go down that road again. It sweeps us away to worlds we might never have imagined, where what happens only in our fantasies becomes reality. It pushes people to the brink of their comfort zone, and forces reflection and action, an assessment which might never have been made if not for a diction. A diction is not something to be evaluated and diagnosed in haste. There have always been, and will always be extenuating circumstances which play a role in a diction, and it is not for any one person to define what creates or leads to it. There are some who believe that a diction is the result of genetic predisposition, as though it were bound to happen sooner or later. Some may have begun as a result of a certain incident or life changing experience. I've always believed that a diction is almost a beautiful confession. A vivid expression of something so consuming, words don't do it justice. But what have we other than our words? There are people in my life who have only known a diction that renders the same effect: stagnancy. On many different occasions have I encountered a diction that is worth my while to confront. But I do so in stride, encompassing only that which has shown itself to have the positive impact that a diction is capable of, and discarding what's left.

A diction is what has kept me fascinated these past few years, and will continue to for the rest of my life. It knows no limits, and is redefined only by those who are willing to be held accountable by becoming transparent, being open minded, and always reaching.

Statistical Truths

I happened to discover a website the day before today called Graphjam.com. That is a false account of how I discovered Graphjam, and I apologize. A friend of mine Chris Bui, the mastermind behind Nothin But BBall shared Graphjam with me. Now, you'll notice that there is a graph to your left, my right (I'm watching you through the monitor). I drew inspiration for this graph after a brief youtube session of Bill O'Reilly fan club videos. I've always wanted to make a graph, but I've never had a good reason to until Graphjam. I was reaching a new depth in my depression until Graphjam came along, and I really don't know where I'd be today if it weren't for Graphjam. I feel as though I've said graphjam a lot up to this point(graphjam). It almost sounds like an alias of some German assassin. "I want dis rat six feet underground, you know anyone dass okay?' 'Yeah, I know a guy. Dey call him Graphjam, which is short for Gervasius Graphjam Guischard. Lost his mind when he was in the womb midway through his surrogate mothers second trimester and just crawled out one night during a routine ultrasound. Wiped out the entire hospital staff including his surrogate mother, an disappeared without a trace. Been wipin people out ever since. He's unTOUCHable!"

Feel free to finish that story in your mind or on paper if you'd like. Anywho, I submitted this graph to graphjam, but in the off chance that they don't include the graph because they think I have down syndrome, I put it on here. I hope you enjoy it, and remember, choose your facial expressions wisely, or you may be lying down in bed one night and open your eyes to be greeted by Graphjam. (Have you so soon forgotten that I'm watching you right now?)

The word graphjam was included in this post 12 times, a not so close second place to the word graph, which was used 18 times. Graph.

Chapter Second: Watch As I Attempt To Add Reason To This Rhyme

If you're ever in a rush to create some intensely creative content with pure intent while inside of a tent, be relentless and remember less is more. For instance if you are making smores and it feels like a chore, then it's forced. While I have tried to enjoy earth to the utmost since birth, I'd like to say a few things which I hope your time is worth. Don't be too brash to consider quality over quantity concerning that which you deliver to your readers for readability. And remember this is all for fun, like shocking your best friend with a stun gun while they're eating a sticky bun with honey, then taking their money, believe me it's funny. I do not, however, wish to stray too far off of this topics task and track so lets bring our focus back before we experience another blog post without purpose attack, which is as purposeful as the war in Iraq. It may be happening for the wrong reasons, but alas, 'tis the season for treason with no reason and such implementation of force by the farce Bush administration, who ignore the voice of the nation, has left you baffled with indignation, like the time you rigged the fundraiser raffle and lost, at a costly cost, which is despicably inexplicable. As I'm sure you've noticed, this post has little to no direction, it's just unrolling to give you a glimpse of my vernacular complexion, which is as good a candidate as any for lyrical dissection. If there's dissension requiring mention regarding my views of this damn near six year old Iraqi freedom convention, please allow me to remind you of the first constitutional amendment, by which you and I might comment to commend with condescending undertone, or we could even leave it alone and take this opportunity to speak on house and home. Our economy is thriving, I'm lying, it's dying and this country has a few people vying to win your heart and favor, offering you all kinds of flavors of hope, joy, love, peace, and prosperity, and some of them do it with clarity, clear and concise, touching only on the finer points, but what's the point, as soon as they're in office they can anoint and fight to legalize joints, as well as any other substance endorsed by Chris Benoit. Only time will tell, and while I'm sure these candidates are swell, it'd be nice to see some price drops at Shell and Texaco as well. We tend to blame cows for ruining the ozone layer, so instead of focusing on how to be a team player, we take the time to make excuses when really we're this planets slayer. This Country's cross country cycling team has been around longer than it's been recycling, or so it seems, so while we dig deeper down into the crust, we lose mother nature's trust, until we reach the core, use it all up and cannot inhabit this earth anymore. I've seen pitch black, I'm all set with that, tell me where the recycling bin is at. Enough with the cow poo, what can I do to see the care and conservation of this beautiful world through? I'm lovin it, using scare tactics like the government, who play the role of the abusive accuser, the judge who won't budge, the henchman from hell, and of course the coroner from around the corner. BOO, I struck terror into you with a controversial issue, and please note that I just gave you a 30% recycled tissue to wipe what you just soiled onto your shoe. Worry not, it's not my opinion I'm trying to sell, rather an attempt to quell what happened when the first stock market fell. I have not need to have been there to cherish both the tortoise and the hare, and fair is fair, so make your money wall street, while I enjoy the last of the clean air. In the sweet by and by, I'd love to discuss this in greater detail, but my 8 to 5 ship is about to set sail, and I'm yet to visit fail....blog.......today. Damn, I wanted to finish strong.

Chapter New: A One Beginning

At this point you'll notice that you've no clue what to anticipate as your eyes scroll left to right. Indeed we have much to discuss and no ones guaranteed tomorrow. Walk with me friend, while we let our eyes do the feasting and our mouth's do the fasting.

It's recently come to my attention that I have a short attention span. When I look back on the years I've spent on this scrumptious planet, I realize that I love out-of-place-adjectives. Out-of-place-adjectives have been around (in the States) for almost twenty five years. They originated in the projects of Springfield, Massachusetts and spread like wildfire over to the real ghetto's, like Santa Barbara, Ca. It was during this wicked time, often referred to as the "Ghetto Grammatical Revolution" where words like "dope" or "off the chain" or "straight thuggin" or "get up off my grill piece" found themselves being routinely up heaved in sloppy, donkey like attempts to sound cool by folks of the white epidermal varietal. You'll note that I didn't say Caucasian. There's a difference. White people are white. Caucasians are a little Asian.

This, my friends, is one of the many amazing discoveries made during the "Ghetto Grammatical Revolution", and goes to show you that it pays to know someone like Jawnuthin who is well seasoned in the history of the O. G. You're safe with me, I'm street.

If we open up our "Pimpalicious Policy and Procedures" manuals to page 413, we'll find ourselves in the bowels of Springfield, Massachusetts. It was in the year 1891 that (Canadian) James Naismith blessed this clean city and invented the game of Basketball. Naismith, a well rounded Gymnast, Lacrosse Player, American Football Player, and intense Mustache Grower was hired to create a game which would keep off season track stars in great shape, and advertise incredible shoes to young impressionable spectators at the same time. Well shucks, you need not read on to know whether or not the game stuck, so lets read on.

Now, they may no longer advertise shoes during basketball games, or anything for that matter, but what a fantastic sport. A sport where one can be humble and show their respect for the game through sportsmanship and encouraging their teammates. If Mugsy Bogues were here, he'd be like "it's not just fa tall people neitha". And one Mugsy. That's 'cause in the early 90's, they created hoops with adjustable height, so as to cater to young children, and men in their thirties who didn't make it in college.

Conclusive...who said this excerpt would be conclusive?