A poem

strolling unknowingly into an aura of music, a man, void of rest, begins to glide.
staring in wonder at this scene only ever taking place in his own mind.
listening to a forgotten sound:
slow, satisfying, rhythmic, deep sorrow.
a familiar tune that had played within his soul, never aloud.
he found himself not in the present, nor the past, but simply in a memory.

The voice was dying, lost, but continuing onward with gradually fading hope, and aching passion.
the man found solace in it, and it in him.
 for a moment two became one,
 for a moment there was meaning,
for a moment...sorrow created joy.

Imaginary friends

Remember when you were a kid and you had that guy or girl or creature to talk to, but it was your little secret that they were actually real? in your own mind anyways. were they really that imaginary? I propose that they were simply a reflection of yourself, who is quite real. my imaginary friends when I was a very little kid were dinosaurs, of course, they stood on two legs and talked but other than that, just normal dinosaurs. They would protect me when I was in danger and play with me when nobody else would.

when I got a bit older, the dinosaurs said there goodbyes without my noticing and the robots took over. Thats right, giant robots with radar tracking, shotgun mini-guns, grenade launchers, all titanium exo-skeletons and of course, missiles. There was 3 or 4 of them I think. One of them I remember naming "complete annihilation" because he was the biggest of them all, Indestructible (naturally) and had what I called a sonic mace as a right arm. It looked like a giant ball and chain with all sorts of wires and lights inside, so that when it hit the ground, anything and everything would go flying for miles.  Once the robots had done their job of keeping me safe and ultimately just being awesome, a new character arrived, silent and invisible.

This new character didn't have a shape or form, he or she simply was. Never seen, never heard, even by me, which is why I would take them on my top secret missions, who better? They would simply listen and follow, a mentor of my obviously stellar scouting and reconnaissance abilities. my highly trained and unexplainably invisible spy was my comrade and fellow agent by night, but another person walked into my imaginary world by day. the next partner slowly introduced himself into my ponderous subconcious: an ordinary man, and older man with glasses and a beard. he would sit and listen to my questions, my grumblings and my endless string of thoughts about life. he would mostly listen, but every once in awhile respond with simple, logical answers. later I figured out these people in real life are called therapists, well hey, at least I saved alot of money by having my own, free of charge.

these were my childhood friends, and more often then not, my only ones. once I began to make real friends, they seemed to somewhat fade into the background, "imaginary friends are for little children" I told myself, and they were all but pushed out of my proverbial sight.

 I had protectors, friends, and counsellors once upon a time, people search high and low for those things, but never think to just create them themselves. It's cheaper, and thier on call 24/7. Who can argue with that?

They are simply a thought away. why not give yours a visit every once in awhile?

Time

It's funny how we complain about the long days, why don't we cherish them a little more? It seems that days get shorter and shorter as time goes on, and most people like it that way.
We keep schedules to occupy every waking moment of the day, even when we aren't busy, we play games, we watch t.v. we read. why is daydreaming or pondering so shunned in our society? How can the important questions of life be answered if you never stop to ask them?

My journey to nowhere

today after church I had nothing to do, so I walked around for a bit

not getting any warmer

video extras

This is just some other random stuff I filmed cuz I was bored.

short hello