Laws of War

Expect a good entry tomorrow on my day off. Right now, I'm doing what I can to rest, recuperate, just do fun things, and possibly some laundry on the side. And to do so requires me to be a bit of a lazy-ass. So, yeah. Until the 'morrow. Here's some Murphy's Laws on warfare I found and collected over the years.

The Inside Clique

(Author's Note: I don't know what I write about sometimes. For this particular piece I pulled, it was part of a high school English speech I did about cliques. Back then, I really hated the thought of it all, but... now, I just wonder what was going through my head...)

The Dog Show

Sometimes when I'm writing I end up writing way out of order. It's what happens when I try writing chronologically and can't pull it off. It provides a bit of an advantage, as I can flesh out more bits of the plot that happens later on while I still flesh out the characters we learn to cheer or jeer for in the beginning of the story.

It's a common tactic seen with artists making a story on some kind of medium, though writers are usually the most common folk who have to wrestle with that kind of thing.

While I was working on Shock Squad BETA I had a few of those experiences. This was what resulted. (Yes, I'm aware I'm being lazy. It's called "waking up late and realizing you have work in a half-hour right before you finally begin typing up today's entry.)

Elbe (Part One)

For lack of a better thing to type up, I decided to throw another snippet of Shock Squad BETA on here. It's partially because I'm too lazy to type something up and mostly because I want to save processing speed - I'm having a massive data organizing session between my external hard drives and a brand-new one I got to help ease my lack of data space.

Anyway, here. A bit of the first episode.

The Last of the Brave

Every once in a while an artist comes up with a project so grand that it will take years to complete. That isn't a typo or anything.

Suffice to say that if they had the power to do so, they would put every ounce of energy and creativity into this project and make it something that will last for the rest of their lifetime. Hopefully, it may even surpass them and become something heralded as a cultural artifact. Regardless of its outcome, the artist wants to make it, but something limits them from doing so.

For some, it could be financial issues. This project in question requires materials or studios or software or plane tickets to gods-know-where or something of the sort. They may lack the blessings of silver spoons, recently-deceased rich relatives, or well-paying jobs. It's not that the project needs the money - it's that the project requires money if the artist wants it to turn out well.

For some others, it's time. They're at a dead-end job trying to raise the money for said project. They require the utmost amount of focus in their classes so they can get a well-paying job. They might have other prior arrangements that chip away at their free-time. There could be other things that just totally wipe their energy afterwards, leaving any remaining free time that could have been used on the project to be re-routed to sleep.

While there are many other factors that could alter the outcome of this project, the one thing the artist knows is that they want to do this very badly. If they could, they'd focus their whole lives and finances on it. The project matters to them that much.

For me, one of these projects just flashed itself out of the backburner somewhat. I had always wanted to create something memorable using machinima set in the Halo universe, but I've never had the finances to pool up the necessary resources to make it, nor have I had the time to even consider making the videos in question. It's made me somewhat depressed looking at the rough drafts I had conceived for it, but at the same time it's making me a bit hopeful - could I somehow get the time and the money to perform this project through and through?

I'm not sure. But anyway, here's a snippet of the project. Old readers will know what this is, but you newbies won't. Don't worry - I'll explain everything in due time, but for now... I'll show you.

No Change Without Conflict

Okay, I need to really stop trying to post an entry only to find myself distracted by cooler things - like, you know, life. As such, I've been finding myself forced to use the "In Case of Emergency" folder, and I keep telling myself to stop, stop, stop using that blasted folder!

Well, with life, being what is is, I'm not surprised that I'm using it more and more - especially because of this month and my frakkin' requirement. Ah, well. I have something ready and primed, but I need to go through some coding changes for it... so, yeah.

Yes, call it a bad judgement of timing or what not, but eh. Until the 'morrow.

No Likey Food Poisoning

One of my friends came down with a case of food poisoning today. In order to poke fun at them for it "honor" their plight, I decided to hang out with 'em. I've lost track of the time, so I decided to pull one from the "In Case of Emergency" folder again. And whaddya know - it fits well with today's scenario!

Anyway, enjoy this crappy high school paper I found. (Geez, reading it makes me nauseous... urp.)

A Hand At Advice

Back in high school, I was in the school newspaper working primarily as a copy editor and partially as an op/ed writer. It inspired me at one point to try to make my own self-published pieces. I found one I wrote back in the new year seasons of 2007. o.O

An Old List

Because I can't think of anything better to place on here (and because I thought I could come up with something to write the moment I got home tonight... look how well that went), I decided to look through my computer in search of something silly. Lo and behold: I found this old list (dated to 2007) of silly Murphy's laws that involve (online) gaming somehow. Hehehe...

Now, not all of this is mine - some of this is classic "Murphy's Laws of the Military," but that doesn't stop it from applying to video games (especially shooters). I touched bases with a decent amount of genres (from what I'm reading, at least), so there should be something to amuse the gamer in you. Enjoy...?

Provisional Deferment of Self-Prohibitionary Ethics

You know how once in a while you go across your old files on your computer and you stumble across something hilarious you saved? ...n-no? None of you do that? Oh, well, uh... *clears throat*

A-Anyway, this is one such example of a gem. Back before I was 21, I was a major teetotaler. (For those of you who don't know big words, that basically means I refused to drink alcohol at all.) This was one character trait my friends found to be a tad annoying. They did respect it and all, but for me to refuse alcohol outright - especially on my 21^st birthday - that was just taking it too far.

Admittedly, I also was taking it too far as well. To deny myself something because of things I've heard as opposed to me actually experiencing the "nightmares" my friends have suffered... that was kind of stupid. I figured, "Fine. We'll have one night of alcoholic debauchery." However, at the time my mind was... well, locked onto this idea that I had to stay pure and free and alcohol... that it would be for my benefit for me not to drink.

So, I decided to make a legally-binding document that would allow me to drink to my will's content without feeling guilty about any of it (yeah, as if a few pieces of paper would stop the thought of guilt). The result... was this abhorrent three-page document that "allowed" me to drink. Please feel free to laugh.

Internet Spammage Whoo

Another day, another blog entry totaling one thousand words. This particular post warrants a bit more notice than before because it's the last post of the month that requires me to squeeze something out within a limited time frame - and I hate things like that.

If anything, going through this month has proven to me that while I'm capable of meeting deadline when put to the challenge, it may not always be quality work. That scares me, because (let's face it:) I strive to be the best and nothing but.

So, in an attempt on filling today's requirements before I head out for work, here's a little random something I decided to write up one day years ago about spam. Not the tasty food, mind you - but the actions of spamming. For some reason I found this to be a bit amusing, so here's some insight on my past thought processes.

Until the 'morrow.

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The act of spamming is defined by Wikipedia as "the abuse of electronic messaging systems to send unsolicited bulk messages."

The term itself gets its roots from a well-known sketch from the famed Monty Python comedy team. In it, a couple is seen in a typical British greasy spoon trying to order a meal off the menu. At first, it appears quite ordinary (with a starter suggestion such as "egg, sausage and bacon"), but as the list goes down it ends up being laden with entrées relating to Hormel Spam – so far as to even have dishes like "spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam, and spam" or even the lavish "lobster thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce garnished with truffle paté, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam." Years later, in the infancy of the online sector, people would actually continuously quote the sketch over and over (or at least put down "Spam" repeatedly) to drive out newbies in the chat room or message board. Hence, the word and practice that would later be christened as "spamming" was born.

Nowadays, it no longer pertains to chat rooms. E-mail accounts are flooded everyday with countless amounts of junk e-mail – now also colloquially known as "spam." Public social networking sites such as Facebook and Myspace, and online message boards end up becoming infested with a bunch of immature (and possibly unintelligent) Internet users who for some reason love to waste their lives by copying and pasting numerous facsimiles of the same image, word, clause, sentence, and/or paragraph over and over and over and over (and yeah... I’ll stop now...), either making one ginormous post that takes three hours to scroll through, or multiple posts at one time. (In my view, higher numbers of duplicate objects or spam posts usually equal a higher amount of stupidity – and thus, a higher chance of dying as a lonely virgin.) Of course, this practice exists outside of the digital word – most notably with little kids (or people who act like such) who keep pestering us with the annoying and repetitive "Why?" and the even more intolerable and infamous "Are we there yet?"

If you’re reading this, chances are you’re one of the many people who’ve encountered spam and hated every bit of it. I’ve had more than my fair share of it. Seems that every day when I check my e-mail, I get anywhere from 25 – 50 new e-mails – all of it spam. Then we have more spam – when I check my Facebook every once in a while (I'll admit, I used to be hooked), I look at the many things people post. Some are funny comments that I just laugh at (but I don’t call that spam). A couple more (usually ones I post) are either meaningful or inform friends that a new blog is up for others to read.

But then there's that idiot who keeps putting down "New pictures! Comment please kthx" over and over. (If you have a profile on a social networking site, you probably have a friend who spams like this.) Like, one bulletin every hour or so. Heaven forbid, maybe even within a lesser timeframe. Then they go off on a tangent and whine about how nobody cares because they didn’t get a comment, ending their tirade with a "COMMENT MEH PLEASE!!!" or something similar.

Or here's another great example. Once I was on this forum where people are commenting on random crap. (And by that, I mean random. People just jumped topics every two posts.) And then some nutjob (who probably isn’t that bright) decides to go make a post. What makes this post stand out was the fact that it was in bold and (the kicker:) he deliberately copy-and-pasted two hundred and twenty-one lines' worth of "~CHOCOLATE IS THE BEST~" – enough chocolate to make even chocoholics puke.

What makes forum spamming even worse is the fact that it (like all immature actions) incites more immature actions. A few hours later some other kid responds with 92 lines of "~WAFFLES ARE BETTER~" – not enough to match the first dolt but still enough to take the role of the shot that was fired back. And then a spam war ensued, with worthless lines of responses and half-witted people throwing more fuel to the fire.

(Author’s Note: As a lil' piece of trivia, here’s further proof of my theory that spammers probably have no lives: A response in this war was the sentence "BUT THIS IS BETTER." This line was repeated 10,383 times. I really wish I was kidding about that number. Well, anyway, after MS Word did some statistics, it reported that whole entire meaningless post of spam had 155,760 letters and 41,536 words. What caught me off-guard was the fact that each sentence was bolded in Times New Roman typeface and the font size was 24. Which meant that if this were to be printed off of MS Word with regular 1" margins, it’d waste 452 pages.)

The worst thing about forum spamming (or any kind of spamming, really, but this kind is prevalent in message boards the most) is the fact that very offensive comments may be repeated throughout various threads over and over and over. Yes, administrators can ban the user in various ways, but that's one huge mess they'll have to clean up in the end. Of course, we knew that. What we didn't know was the fact that it cost business associations all across the United States over $10 billion USD back in 2004.

Spam sucks. Period. It’s an annoying, memory/time-wasting device that
Honestly, whoever created it should DIEEEE. If you’re like me, and you just HATE it... we should do something. If you're a spammer, kindly stop your immature and annoying ways. If you fail to do so, then may God have mercy on your soul. But if you're agnostic or not of a monotheistic religion, then... just die.

Fifteen Years

When a man is put into a chair and told to type up one thousand words within an hour, it makes for an interesting challenge. What will they say? What will they think of? Will they become crazy when time runs out and they haven't met their deadline?

Well, I don't know what would happen to any other person, but for me... well, that makes things interesting. I'm the kind of guy who makes things interesting by asking, "What am I to talk about?"

Normally, I end up throwing something together out of a topic that was either premeditated or just created at random, but today is not one of those days. Some things came up that I have to attend to, and I must get going immediately.

Huh - that would suck for me this month, considering that I need to post one thousand words on each entry I make. Fortunately for me, I have my emergency folders on my computer for when a situation like this arises.



Now, with this document... it was an assignment I got from one of my college classes back in 2008. It was a classic "where you see yourself in fifteen years" paper - a cliché assignment normally seen in grade school. I took one look at the thing and laughed, because I saw the words of a liar and a guy who just wanted to get the assignment done.

Or, that's how it was meant to be read as. I've often said that I'm both a simple and complex individual, and I think this proves it. If anyone knows me, the ironies are quite clear once this is read.

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To think and plan ahead for fifteen years into the future seems to be one of the key methods of success a lot of people follow. It allows them to create a considerable number of goals – and in the process, they develop a road map for them to follow so they arrive at their desired destination. For me, the plan for me is a long, hard journey – one that kicks back Fate and says to the world, "I was here and I made a difference." This journey gets me to an elevated position of both success and power while retaining the hobbies and mindsets that keep me me. Of course, this is just the best-case scenario ending – if the technology from Back to the Future existed, and I possessed a flux capacitor and a De Lorean DMC-12, then I would shoot myself to 2023, check how my 33-year-old self is doing and write this paper based on that. But since that just sounds silly, I have no choice but to merely speculate on where I will be in 15 years and what paths I take to get there.

In regards to my education and learning career, the boulevard to success seems to be a lengthy one. I assume that it will be another year or two until I knock out my general education requirements and collect enough credits to transfer into a good university with a program in either English or education (hopefully both). I would later graduate with a master’s or higher in either of those two subjects (maybe even both if possible). When it comes to my minor, I have no clue as to what I should do there. It is possible that I could minor in something regarding the media department (be it movie-making, web design, or the like), but time has its ways – something that I have overlooked might show up that I might develop an interest in.

During my tenure as a high school student, most people expected me to work somewhere in the video game industry when I got older. However, what few people saw was my passion and desire for knowledge and an education, which blossomed into my desire to become a teacher (and an English one at that – which earned a few light-hearted insults from my teachers at the time). Working with that drive (along with the master’s I would get at college), I would end up becoming an English teacher at my alma mater, Adolfo Camarillo High School.

I would love to have traveled to a lot of places by the time fifteen years pass. There are so many locations I want to visit – places in Europe such as Germany, Great Britain, France, Italy, Greece, and Belgium; places in Asia such as the Philippines and Japan; places elsewhere such as Australia, Canada, and Argentina. (The beauty of being a teacher is that since they get summers off, getting time to go to these places just might be possible.) All of these countries offer sights, tastes and sounds I’ve yet to experience firsthand. What better way to learn than immersing oneself into the country’s culture?

There is also one other thing which I will do in regards to traveling: the memorable cross-country road trip. One day, when gas prices no longer make our wallets cry and/or we become richer, my closest friends and I will trek across the entire United States of America. Since a large number of us want to do this, we’d have to travel via car convoy, stopping at various places across the continent for photo opportunities and other reasons. True: road trips are cliché, but fun clichés nonetheless.

Family seems to be another major topic to cover. I consider a lot of people to be my actual family. Throughout the later years of high school and beyond, the ones I associated with the most have (in essence) become my surrogate family, and I intend to keep those close bonds held together as long as possible – which would mean that we would still be great friends 15 years from now.

I would love to get married someday. In fifteen years I picture myself with a somewhat-nuclear family – wife, kid(s), possibly a family pet or two, nice house in a great neighborhood, and the like. I assume that during these fifteen years, I will have met a girl and befriended her before asking her out (assuming that whoever I end up marrying is someone I currently do not know). The relationship will have its ups and downs – there will be the occasional argument (with the guy typically on the losing side) – but it will be a strong and caring relationship. One day I would probably pop the question of engagement and she will say yes (on the presumption that the girl I am with at the time is the girl I marry). After marriage and after setting the financial anchors down, we would have a kid or two or three (genetics are highly unpredictable, so for all I know, we might have one child or we might end up with a quintuplet).

Fifteen years really is too far away to see where one would end up. To quote Yoda: "Hard to see, the future is." Indeed, this is true. The events in the future are constantly in flux, changing according to the decisions everyone makes right now in the present. This means that if I have any hope of achieving this best-case scenario of my outlook on my future life, I will have to have made it possible myself.

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...uhm... I typed all this? I kinda want to question my past self here...

Anyway, I gotta go. Until the 'morrow. *jets out*

I'm going to be honest with y'all here: nothing came to mind when I began writing an entry today. For about an hour I found myself looking at the screen, wondering what in the world I'd be typing. Add the fact that I needed to compose something consisting of over one thousand words and you'll have a dilemma: a writer who, at the current rate he's going for the day, won't make deadline.

Before I started this entire blog, I went through some of my old work - posts on past blogs I liked, old papers I wrote (of which only a few were actually for school), poems and scripts I composed over the years. Of these, I grabbed what I believed to be the cream of the crop and copied them into a folder that I labeled "In Case of Emergency" - only to be used when I've spent a considerable amount of time staring at the same screen because I honestly could not compose anything to slap on here.

From what I looked through in the archives, I've broken into this folder... ...well, if you count today, I think only twice now. Considering how today's post will be the 252^nd, I'd say that's pretty good non-usage of this emergency folder - it's only been used for a little under one percent of the time!

Anyway, as I looked through the "In Case of Emergency" folder, I found this little gem I wrote one fateful Halloween back in 2008. As most (if not all) of you know, back then I was... well, less optimistic and more emotional than I am now. Granted, I still have moments like that (we all do), but lately the only reasons I've regressed is because I was pushed to that point. I decided to post this document for three reasons:

1. It's inspirational. Some of my friends who've read this were touched by its words, so I decided, "Hey; let's throw it on the Internet! Maybe I'll affect someone else's life in a great way with today's entry!"
2. Let's face it: I'm a hopeless romantic, no matter how much I deny it tooth and nail. I was in the past, and I still am. It makes sense for someone like me to write this, and who am I to deny what I truly am?
3. It was the only document in the "In Case of Emergency" folder that went over 1,000 words. *nervous laugh*

Some of you might have already seen this (particularly anyone who's gone through my notes on Facebook), so apologies for making you read something you've already read. However, it is pretty nice (and somewhat sappy, I'll admit) and it does give off inspiration.

So, enjoy this ol' favorite of mine, and I'll see y'all tomorrow! Star Fox 64 3D, food and work await! *flies off*

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"Maybe Love Is…"

Josh D. "Whitey" Blanco
31 October 2008
(revised 02 Oct 2009)

When it comes to understanding love, it is something none of us will ever fully and truly reach alone. But if we share the love with each other - and should we find someone in particular to share its warmth with - we can get pretty damn close.

Before, I've made it no secret how much I loathe and pine for that poisonous quartet of letters. Longtime readers of my blogs will remember my (mostly) unenthusiastic opinions on love – that it was a vile and atrocious man-eater, making heroes out of stagnant liars and villains out of honest gentlemen. As a guy who is single and has never had a girlfriend (at least at the time of writing this), it seems hypocritical of me to even attempt to give the world some definition of this downright tricky four-letter-word. Yet here I am, doing it anyway as an attempt to find my heart reprieve in this maddening world that is 2009.

Truth be told, I don’t think anybody has even come close to finding a proper definition of love. Many have tried; many have failed - and today, the world is filled with numerous quotes about this seemingly simple word.


Now, I’m not claiming to be the go-to guy in this sort of matter, but maybe I can shed a little more light with these petite theories that might just get us closer to answering the infinitely-asked question, "What is love?"


Maybe love is finding someone to share a clear night sky with - someone to whisper their deepest wishes to instead of the distant stars, someone to confide the most heartfelt truths to in lieu of the moon, and someone to help sow one’s hopes across the heavens when a shooting star flies by.

Maybe love is being able to lie on the green grass, head empty of worry and soul fully at peace.

Maybe love is that dark void in your heart, longing to be filled with the compassion of another.

Maybe love is right in front of you and you don’t even know it.

Maybe love is that silver platter of an opportunity you've been too blind or prideful to take.

Maybe love doesn’t have to exist in the land of dreams… maybe it can be real.

Maybe love is connecting to a song that captures the romantic essence of your soul. Maybe that song is only for one singer and the song is meant to be sung to that special someone. Maybe it can be made into a duet that this distinct person can join you in. Maybe the song is romantic in the first place and its lyrics need no explanation. Maybe the piece is an instrumental whose home-hitting melody speaks to you wordlessly. Or maybe it’s just what your heart desperately wants to say to them when your mind is too stubborn and/or shy to admit the truth and when your lips fail to mutter anything coherent.

Maybe love can save someone’s life when mere words and actions can’t.

Maybe love is knowing "How to Save a Life" (and I don’t just mean the Fray song, either).

Maybe "Love Comes Again" - even to those that Tiësto and BT weren’t singing about.

Maybe love is that guilty pleasure of a romantic song you sing along with on a lone drive home.

Maybe love wants you to be like Journey and "Don’t Stop Believin'" in it.

Maybe love prioritizes quality over everything else. It doesn’t require the high-end, lavish luxuries that the flauntingly rich can pompously toss about. Such a complex emotion needs not a high-quality dinner from a five-star restaurant, a cruise down a long road in a silver convertible BMW and first class seating in a major game or performance. Maybe all it needed was an inexpensive trip to a local sushi bar, a serene stroll through the waterfront and a lot of meaningful conversation. (Then again, love knows no boundaries. There are honorable people who can afford extravagance on dates and those who cannot. To me, it matters not how much one invests on the outing with money, but rather how much one invests with their soul.)

Maybe love is that magical thing that makes all money worthless and one sweet smile priceless.

Maybe love is the Chekhov’s gun that ends the night with a soft, genuine, romantic midnight kiss.

Maybe love is (according to Dr. Perry Cox from Scrubs) "...mainly about pushing chocolate-covered candies and [...] in some cultures, a chicken."

Maybe love is when the nice guy - who, after an eternity of playing fair yet finishing last against the many cheaters in the race - finally places first.

Maybe love is that botched plan of a date that ends up being an amazing night to remember.

Maybe love is taking precedence of their feelings rather than your own. It can be as simple as granting space when needed and offering shade in the sweltering heat of stress, even when they fail to ask for it. It can be the act of remaining steadfast for them in the face of adversity, or being oneself, knowing that "those who mind don’t matter while those who matter don’t mind." It can also be an act of selflessness – being there to wipe the tears away, offering company and a reassuring hug and asking for nothing in return.

Maybe love is sacrificing your happiness so theirs may flourish, knowing full well that they may never thank you - and still being okay with it.

Maybe love is proof that chivalry isn’t dead.

Maybe love is that honorable hero(ine) we wish we were instead of the shadowed being we currently are.

Maybe love means taking the hit if you really care for someone, no matter what the outcome is.

Maybe love takes a bite even when the shine’s off the apple.

Maybe love takes form of all emotions, of all actions, of all words, of all people. While it is the prince of happiness, the messenger of euphoria and the gateway to Utopia, love is also the harbinger of vulnerability, the summoner of timidity and the door to any black hole in one’s heart. Its sheer power forces one to perform actions never intended to happen and bestows emotions that overwhelm the psyche. Love can provoke unnecessary aggression, impulsive behavior, bitter melancholia, troublesome contemplation, chaotic anxiety, sheer ignorance, abrupt speechlessness, fluttering elation and heart-sinking depression. And yet, while one can acknowledge the existence and aftermath of their actions and thoughts, they can never locate the source of its appearance, even though it is blatantly obvious what triggered it all.

Maybe love turns the confident into the shy, the prideful into the humble, and the apathetic into the caring.

Maybe love forces us to do both smart and stupid things. (Mostly stupid.)

Maybe love is silent - maybe it needs no words to be expressed.

Maybe love is saying "I love you" without the "I love you."

Maybe love is just looking deep in their eyes, saying nothing, and having the greatest conversation ever.

Maybe love hurts. "It gets inside you," Rose Walker from Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman states. "It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain." (But as Incubus sings: "Love hurts / But sometimes it’s a good hurt / And it feels like I’m alive / Love sings / When it transcends the bad things / Have a heart and try me / ‘cause without love I won’t survive.")

Maybe love forces you into staying up all night and getting caught up in your mind. In the morning, you claim the ordeal as mere insomnia... when you really know better.

Maybe love is that icy void - that vulnerable feeling in your heart that yearns to be filled.

Maybe love is dramatic irony incarnate - those involved are blind to it, and everyone else around them knows exactly how the play will finish. (Of course, they can be wrong, too.)

Maybe love is star-crossed. Then again, maybe it isn’t, either.

Maybe love is an example of a famed mathematical thought: chaos theory.

Maybe love is the ultimate paradigm of yin and yang. No other emotion can muster such a delicate equilibrium of duality. Love is serenity and pandemonium, reciprocation and rejection, subtlety and flamboyancy, pleasure and pain, bliss and misery, forbidden and accepted, harmony and discord, aspiration and despondency, intimidation and confidence, unity and separation. (The irony of it all is that understanding love is also a balancing act of clarity and ambiguity - one can comprehend its meaning but still be lost in its perplexing definition.)

Maybe love can’t be described at all.

Maybe love possesses no actual definition of its own - rather, love’s meaning is the very one held within our own hearts.

Maybe love is the act of you reading this, trying to use my words to formulate a definition to call your own.

Maybe love is what you make it to be. "To each their own" when it comes to happiness, so why not love?

Maybe "love" and "believe" are two words that go hand-in-hand.



Maybe love will someday come to me...

A Beached Entry

(Author's Note: This was composed earlier today while I was at the beach. As I couldn't think of anything to put here on today's entry, I figured I'd slap this on. =D)



There's something invigorating about relaxing at the beachfront on a (mostly) sunny day.
A soft breeze peppered with the scent of ocean salt cooling you while the heat of the sun bathes you with just the right amount of its radiance.
The rolling roar of the tides, constantly pushing and pulling against the sands.

The feeling of calm and serenity enveloping you and melting away all of life, leaving only the beachfront and your soul.



I love trips to the beachfront. Not only do you get to experience the sensations I listed above, but it also grants you a gift of time.
Of course, how one spends their time can and will vary.
Some will want to invite their friends and call it a "beach day."
Some will go along with the tide line and take a walk (friends and pets optional).
Some will just find something nice and dry to sit on and meditate as they stare off into the sparkling water.
Some will practice balance and crane kicks as the sun slowly sets.
Granted, very few of us will actually go to the beach and try to act like Mister Miyagi from The Karate Kid, but I'm certain 90%+* of anyone that goes to the beach will go for the other three activities.

* = Heaven forbid you're part of the 10%- who are there for OTHER reasons... including (but not limited to) photo opportunities, a shipwreck, getting a nice pair of cement shoes, disposing a corpse, and staging an amphibious beach landing akin to Normandy 1944.



Personally, I'm a fan of staying sand-side. I both respect and fear its icy charms - I love water's metaphorical cleansing and renewal properties, but I hate the fact that I'm aquaphobic.
Despite that, a beach trip puts my mind at ease whenever I stare off into the aquatic beyond.



So, if you're lucky enough to live relatively close to a beachfront (and if you haven't gone in a while), I suggest taking some time to go there and just walk around (or do what I did and stand on a rock looking into the ocean). It'll do you wonders - especially if you're not having a good day.

However, if you don't live near a beachfront... MOVE TO SOMEPLACE THAT DOES. Heh