everything’s random. . .

EXISTENTIALISM is a philosophical movement which emphasizes on individual existence, freedom, and choice. There are several philosophical positions all related to existential philosophy but the main identifiable common proposition, is that existence precedes essence. By this, existentialism states that man exists and in that existence man defines himself and the world in his own subjectivity, and wanders between choice, freedom, and existential angst. To put this simply, existentialism is a battle between you and the forces surrounding and affecting you…the simplest of all questions…where do we go from here? am I free? does my decisions lead me to what am I now and to who have I become? never ending. or is it as complex as choice itself?. Yes, choice…a mere yes or no could affect the road that you have taken. Do we simply believe that luck has played a part on our daily lives or do we stick to the infamous line that you are responsible for your own actions…it’s just a matter of choice really.

next post! yatta!

I had a small friend,
Who had a fat friend
Who had a big friend
Who gave birth to many friends
With our flashlights to the sky
We waited for them to land.

Super rad!

and honestly i really could fall for you right now… it’s been eight long months and I’ve been keeping all those messages in my thoughts, and these thoughts flying from nowhere… a wishful thinking that somehow…even for the slightest possibility that you could feel at the very least…the same way as i do. and I’m not suppose to act or think of anything beyond this reason but how could i not think of anything other than our endless laughter because every second…every minute of the passing days you of all people have certainly swept me away. please…don’t let this feeling end.

Well, I’ll wait till you listen
I won’t say a word
To follow your instincts
Just never worked for me
Oh, you’re silent but strong, (yeah, I’m playing that card)
And you’re noticing nothing again

I know you know
I know you know…you know, you know, you know…

Table tennis - also known as ping pong, is a sport in which two or four players hit a lightweight, hollow ball back and forth to each other with rackets (also known as ‘bats’ or ‘paddles’). The game takes place on a hard table divided by a net. Players must allow a ball played towards them only one bounce on their side of the table and must return it so that it bounces on the opposite side. Points are scored when a player fails to return the ball within the rules. Play is fast and demands quick reactions. A skilled player can impart several varieties of spin to the ball, altering its trajectory and limiting an opponent’s options to great advantage.

And now that the formal definition of the sport have been made, I would like to show you japan’s own definition of ping pong. As to some would say, this perhaps is the most boring game mankind has ever invented…ever! but maybe you should get second opinions as to how the game should be well appreciated you damn morons…one must have quick reflexes and reactions, not to mention having a very good hand-eye coordination. Well, with no further adieu, i would like to present to you a sample game of ping pong. enjoy. no wait…

To see you when I wake up
Is a gift I didn’t think could be real.
To know that you feel the same as I do
Is a three-fold, Utopian dream.

You do something to me that I can’t explain.
So would I be out of line if I said "I miss you"?

I see your picture.
I smell your skin on
The empty pillow next to mine.
You have only been gone ten days,
But already I’m wasting away.
I know I’ll see you again
Whether far or soon.
But I need you to know that I care,
And I miss you.

"how people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours." -wayne dyer

The boy awoke before dawn. It had been eleven months and nine days since he had first set foot on the African continent.

     He dressed in his Arabian clothing of white linen, bought especially for this day.  He put his headcloth in place and secured it with a ring made of camel skin.. Wearing his new sandals, he descended the stairs silently.

     The city was still sleeping.  He prepared himself a sandwich and drank some hot tea from a crystal glass.  Then he sat in the sun-filled doorway, smoking the hookah.

     He smoked in silence, thinking of nothing, and listening to the sound of the wind that brought the scent of the desert.  When he had finished his smoke, he rached into one of his pockets, and sat there for a few moments, regarding what he had wihtdrawn.

      It was a bundle of money.  Enough to buy himslef a hundredand twenty sheep, a return ticket, and a license to import products from Africa into his own country.

      He waited patiently for the merchant to awaken and open the shop.  Then the two went off to have some more tea.

      "I’m leaving today," said the boy.  "I have the money I need to buy my sheep.  And you have the money you need to go to Mecca."

      The old man said nothing.

      "Will you give me your blessing?" asked the boy.  "You have helped me." The man continued to prepare his tea, saying nothing.  Then he turned to the boy.

      "I am proud of you," he said.  "You brought a new feeling into my crystal shop.  But you know that I’m not going to go to Mecca. Just as you know that you’re not going to buy your sheep."

      "Who told you that?" asked the boy, startled.

      "Maktub," said the old crystal merchant.

      And he gave the boy his blessing.