Name: Ianthe M. Belisle Dempsey
Age: 17
Favorite philosopher: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Age: 17
Favorite philosopher: Ralph Waldo Emerson
Been there
Time travel
And, yes!!
I say that time travel
Really does already exist
But not through the sciences
And through physics
But it exists within the power
Of our own minds
To illuminate our own memories
And now through some
Subliminal hypnotic state of mind
One can recede back
Into one's own previous life
Not to extract precise, minute details
But to re-inhabit vague transcendental experiences of pre-existential... optimism
A time before any ability to reason
Is actually set
A time before logic covers
All the dimensions of our thinking
And if we're lucky
We can even dissolve back
To a time of glorious, superhuman
Space and time
A time when all things seem possible
Time travel
And, yes!!
I say that time travel
Really does already exist
But not through the sciences
And through physics
But it exists within the power
Of our own minds
To illuminate our own memories
And now through some
Subliminal hypnotic state of mind
One can recede back
Into one's own previous life
Not to extract precise, minute details
But to re-inhabit vague transcendental experiences of pre-existential... optimism
A time before any ability to reason
Is actually set
A time before logic covers
All the dimensions of our thinking
And if we're lucky
We can even dissolve back
To a time of glorious, superhuman
Space and time
A time when all things seem possible
check these sweet tunes.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
So sweet and unknown, a worn comatose
The title of this post is a lyric from the song 'Melatonin' by Silversun Pickups. Besides the fact that this is a good song, melatonin is one of the many treatments for insomnia. I found this title befitting considering I'm composing this at 4am. I never get enough sleep. I'm not a fan of sleep. It always seems that if I go to sleep at like 10pm or something, I'll wake up in the middle of the night freaking out because I haven't done something. It seems impossible for me to have completed everything I need to have (schoolwork, etcetera) done by 10 or 11pm, so I stay up until 1. Even if I do nothing, I'll know there's nothing left to do.
I find sleeping at night to be a waste of time. Eight hours a night? You realise if you get eight hours of sleep every night you'll spend a third of your life sleeping? If I lived to be 90 (which I most certainly will not with such a sleep schedule), I would have spent 30 years asleep. That's preposterous. Even though there are times I would like to spend 30 consecutive years asleep. Over winter break, though, I've been getting 11, 12, 13 hours of sleep even sometimes. And yet I remain tired. Which makes no sense.
I mentioned my constant tiredness to my dad yesterday, yawning. I had originally thought it was because I was anemic or something, but then my doctor informed me in passing that my blood test came back normal. She could be lying, though, I told her I had stomach pain and she immediately told me to get a pregnancy test. Anyway, my dad suggested it could be due in part to depression. Clinical depression, the sort that runs in my family, not teenage "depression", which is often just hormones and attention-seeking.
I can't see what depression has to do with anything. In fact, taking the human body at face value annoys me. Intelligent design proponents should find their greatest opposition in what they believe to be their championing factor, the complexity of the human body. No "intelligent" designer would see fit to make my jaw connected to my ears popping. Or make the reproductive system so insane. I'd like to redesign the body and make everything straightforward. That's it. I'm going to produce the human race out of my basement.
The last three paragraphs started with 'I', and I had to try really hard not to start this one the same way. It's beginning to bother me how much I'm using personal pronouns in this post, like I should go back and re-read my other posts to get a full picture of just how obsessed with myself I am. Why is everything about me? I mean, I know it's my blog and all. Maybe I should talk about trees. Even then I'd keep injecting my opinion into everything. Or the passive voice could be employed. However, the passive voice is looked down upon by journalism teachers and is, in general, sort of annoying. The passive voice is not liked.
I suppose I should try and go to sleep. Also, BARACK OBAMA WINS THE DEMOCRATIC CAUCUS IN IOWA! This gives me so much hope. Good morning.
----------------
Now playing: Silversun Pickups - Melatonin
via FoxyTunes
My one (loyal?) reader has been clamoring for another angst-ridden update, and I did promise to myself to be better about maintaining my blogs like plants. By which I mean that they'll get enough light, not that I water them. I'm terrible with analogies.
The title of this post is a lyric from the song 'Melatonin' by Silversun Pickups. Besides the fact that this is a good song, melatonin is one of the many treatments for insomnia. I found this title befitting considering I'm composing this at 4am. I never get enough sleep. I'm not a fan of sleep. It always seems that if I go to sleep at like 10pm or something, I'll wake up in the middle of the night freaking out because I haven't done something. It seems impossible for me to have completed everything I need to have (schoolwork, etcetera) done by 10 or 11pm, so I stay up until 1. Even if I do nothing, I'll know there's nothing left to do.
I find sleeping at night to be a waste of time. Eight hours a night? You realise if you get eight hours of sleep every night you'll spend a third of your life sleeping? If I lived to be 90 (which I most certainly will not with such a sleep schedule), I would have spent 30 years asleep. That's preposterous. Even though there are times I would like to spend 30 consecutive years asleep. Over winter break, though, I've been getting 11, 12, 13 hours of sleep even sometimes. And yet I remain tired. Which makes no sense.
I mentioned my constant tiredness to my dad yesterday, yawning. I had originally thought it was because I was anemic or something, but then my doctor informed me in passing that my blood test came back normal. She could be lying, though, I told her I had stomach pain and she immediately told me to get a pregnancy test. Anyway, my dad suggested it could be due in part to depression. Clinical depression, the sort that runs in my family, not teenage "depression", which is often just hormones and attention-seeking.
I can't see what depression has to do with anything. In fact, taking the human body at face value annoys me. Intelligent design proponents should find their greatest opposition in what they believe to be their championing factor, the complexity of the human body. No "intelligent" designer would see fit to make my jaw connected to my ears popping. Or make the reproductive system so insane. I'd like to redesign the body and make everything straightforward. That's it. I'm going to produce the human race out of my basement.
The last three paragraphs started with 'I', and I had to try really hard not to start this one the same way. It's beginning to bother me how much I'm using personal pronouns in this post, like I should go back and re-read my other posts to get a full picture of just how obsessed with myself I am. Why is everything about me? I mean, I know it's my blog and all. Maybe I should talk about trees. Even then I'd keep injecting my opinion into everything. Or the passive voice could be employed. However, the passive voice is looked down upon by journalism teachers and is, in general, sort of annoying. The passive voice is not liked.
I suppose I should try and go to sleep. Also, BARACK OBAMA WINS THE DEMOCRATIC CAUCUS IN IOWA! This gives me so much hope. Good morning.
----------------
Now playing: Silversun Pickups - Melatonin
via FoxyTunes
Ianthe. posted at 3:39 AM