Choosing Not to Speak

Figuring out how to write -develop a voice- has to be the most difficult challenge ever- in life. Sentence structure, conceptual themes, communicating effectively, putting it all together; the difficulty is in the fact that it’s difficult. Especially when you know you are good at what you do- without having anything to show people otherwise. It’s as if you have a hidden talent in the form of a golden egg covered in shit and wrapped in bacon. The first bite may be good, but if you want to get yolk you have to clean up the crap under the surface. This really isn’t for everyone. You need a strong stomach. Sometimes (a lot of times) I don’t think it’s for me either. I guess I have to continue based on faith. Which means something, I guess.

FAITH! What is that? What makes parishioners believe that their prayers will dissolve all of their problems? You see them every Sunday with calluses on their knees from years at the pew- reeking of the same problems. Can we believe in a heaven or hell when no one has ever come back from the dead to verify? Isn’t faith total belief in an outcome based on probability; where the probability is based on prior substantiated knowledge that gives you reason to actually believe without equivocation?

Whatever the case may be I’ll assume in my case the prior substantiated knowledge is the fact that someone else did it before. Or has been believed to accomplish something before. Someone somewhere came up with the theory of heaven and hell and sold it as if they themselves have been there, or came into contact with someone (something) that could give them the knowledge of this apparently non-falsifiable concept.

There was human being out there to have been in my same position as me at some point: an observant thinker that has yet to be able to express fluently on paper the way he can in speech. I have faith that person, whether famous, or not, greatly increased my probability of brushing of this dirty ass egg.

Abra-kadabra, poof and voilà, the magician has just presented you with his latest spectacle. You, the unsuspecting audience, may believe rabbits just appear out of thin air, or that magicians are unlearned savants apt at crazy card tricks and sawing women in half.

But as illusionist -and Jr. Houdini- David Blaine exemplifies (see below) any artist skilled at his craft puts in countless hours and years of struggle into every trick and slight of hand the audience may see, even if for a few seconds.

What do you love? What is that one thing that you would kill for if someone took it away from you? If you don’t know where you are how will you know where you are going (just saying)?

Knowing where you're going is very important. The one thing that moves me is advertising. It entails writing, creative/organized thought, tons of will power and self-confidence. This means that every day I have to put in lots of writing, organize my creativity and utilize my will power and self-confidence to get it done. Not because I want to, but because I have to (my life depends on it).

Figure out what it is that moves you and get to work. If you think it’s too late to start on that dream, maybe you should wake up. Or if you’re David, create an illusion of working towards your dreams; people may believe it. If you work hard enough.

Strong Poet. Strong Piece... Please Re-post

Client: Sony, PS3 (France)
Agency: Rewiind
Production: Les Fées Production
Director: Lee Shulman

I'm sorry, but they are really trying to make these commercials as lude as possible. The comments and the faces are ridiculously funny.

A strong message delivered by PETA (not sure of the agency).

There's no "safe for work" verb to fill in the above blank. slip, squirt, club... Nothing. They're all just dirty, or misanthropic, but that may just be my perverse brain at work. So, I gave my more perverse friends a shot. They gave me words like, "caulk, pickle, diddle." And my favorite, "filch."...they never offer any good help.

By the way, can you filch all over someones face? I know what it means, but it sounds like a dump and a money shot wrapped loosely in a Polish sausage casing. Which granted is a little over the top, but who would want to "filch" all over someones face anyway? Can you clean something like that off? (the thought is killing me, but I digress...).

Trying to solve my on going dilemma I realized you can add a noun to the sentence to change the focus (e.g., I want to put makeup all over your face). I think that defeats the purpose though. It doesn't have the same intonation by just saying , " I want to put all over your face," or if your Tiger Woods, " I want to putt all over your face." And being that Tiger is a true sportsman and knowing what's been going on in his life, he probably would use a nine iron instead. I wonder if he banged a Polish chick? You think she let him filch all over her face?

1. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t know pain. Thank you. You have taught me that without pressure there is no diamond. I hope my shine blinds you into seeing how much you hurt helped me. When you come into contact with me raise me to your face and stare into your imperfection. Cut your self with my hard edges and remember the times you cut me. Next time consider suicide before you are birthed.

2. If you were a book, you’d be an erotic novel, sultry and magnetic. There were times when I forgot I wasn’t breathing. Your suspense fed me. I clothed my self with your passion. I wrapped you around my neck for warmth, and you kicked the chair from under me. I just got back on my feet from that fall from heaven. I am glad we are strangers now. Maybe next lifetime we can keep it that way.

3. I am a sorcerer. You are a witch. We learn from each other, but should realize that two magnets of the same pole should not get too close. From a distance I send you this sigil of love, success and consciousness…. My equal, but opposite.

4. My sweat pants are still in your dresser. Keep them. I’m sure he thinks they are his by now.

5. There are demons inside of you that I do not wish to know. If they kill you tomorrow I will slant my eyes and look between the cracks in the air to pull you back, just in time to light the hookah and share my philosophy of how we are all going to die some day anyway.

6. Durex condoms are like Hulk Hogan's T-shirts. Too small and easily ripped. Next time I’ll spend the extra two bucks for the Trojans, but not with you.

7. You get my favorite number. You were once my favorite person. Or at least I thought you were. I threw my self at your altar and smelled my flesh burn in your temple. Incense to your pseudo godess. You never came to collect my offering. I just found out they sell you in vending machines at Six Flags. Thank you for never playing games with me. Thank you for never getting to know me. Those three years were wonderfully ignorant.

8. I find myself wanting to be like you sometimes. I find myself looking down on you sometimes. I sometimes steal your words as if they belong to Moses and blaspheme your name behind your back, because you are that much cooler than I. I realize why girls are always talking about you.

9. I was cleaning under my desk today and found a pencil with your name on it. I have drawn a line that has circumnavigated the globe, but still I can’t write the right words that will lead to your celestial heart. It’s hard being beautiful, smart and rich. I know. Don’t abuse that privilege. A metaphor, or a swift strike of my pen will end your fanciful existence and bring you back down to the earth. Until then I hope my wings are strong enough to meet you in that place. I’ll probably loose interest tomorrow.

10. To I. the Philosophers Stone unturned. Do not forget yourself, listen to the silence in the wind storm and you will find All. The objective mind is but a gate keeper to the subjective mind, cultivate thought and own the sword… The words of wisdom are only open the ears of understanding.

Yes, Flavor Flav has found another way to destroy our ear canals with more inaudible music.