I'm alive

Today, I watched the sun rise over a wretched world. The thing is, the world didn't feel so terrible at the time. Because, today is a day, a beautiful day. A day to live, learn, laugh, lust, and lie. It's another day in a disgusting world filled with beautiful things.

And I'm okay with that. Me. Not one bit more, not one bit less. Just me. And I'm okay with that too.

A New Home

Recently, I've come to realize that there are actually people who read my blog, and I would just like to share with them how much I am absolutely thrilled by this. It's much easier to write when I know it will be read by someone.

Anyway, I have begun to look into moving The Inkblot to an independent site with various sections where I can showcase my artistic and literary works. The blog would continue of course, and I could alter the aesthetics to my liking, as well. In an y case, I have yet to receive information on possible expenses from Raelifin, so the idea is just a distant dream for now.
In my next post, if nothing else comes up first, I'll write up my plans for the Library of Alexandria.

Later folks,

~ T

The Tides Of Change

This posting is my 20th on this blog. This Tuesday is my 17th birthday. This has been a great day.

My mind is a wanderer, in a world made of dreams. I let it wander, because only when left free can it experience the greatest possible plethora of emotions, ideas, and experiences. In two days, I will have wandered, coasted, been forced into climbing, and fallen down for seventeen years, and this is important to me. I have grown and changed a lot, and I can see this, which says something important. I may not be mature, but I'm getting closer. I may not be perfect, but I'm getting there. I may not be a good person, but as much as I hate to say it, I'm getting there.

Today may not be the pivotal day of change, but since when does life work out in a symmetrical and convenient way? Never. At least not for me. So today, I'm writing about me, and my philosophy.

Me: I am an artist. This means, not that I have any skill, but that I have the vision necessary to create works of literature and visual art, maybe even music. I'm not perfect, in any way. I don't think I'm beautiful, or kind, or free of guilt. I also don't have very high self-esteem either, but that's all okay. I'm a continuously growing entity, like everyone else, the product of my own mind and the world around me. Someday, I want to be better at what I do and feel better about myself, and as of this moment, I have faith in the fact that this will come to pass.

The Philosophy: I like to call my philosophy the Inkblot, as it incorporates many elements of this device. The general idea is that anything in the world can be understood in an infinite number of ways, and none of them are definitively the right way. Also, these interpretations allow an observer to understand the interpreter based on what he sees. Another idea is that since an inkblot is almost inherently random, there can be no process for understanding and dealing with them other than to take them as they come. From this concept comes my method of handling life, by observing and making individual decisions. My morals should be mutable, as well as my intentions, so long as what I do is sensible based on the information I have. in this way, I can live with no regrets.

The final note of the day goes out to my friends, few though they are.

To Raelifin, I would send thanks and goodwill, for being an altruistic and genuinely good person to the point of a fault. I sincerely hope life doesn't tear us apart as it has to so many others.

To Xathan, I want to thank for helping me cope with the world and all it's unpleasant truths. I dreamed of a day when we could have a game shop, and now I fear that may never be. However, you let me dream, and that's something of immeasurable value.

To NastyNate, I would thank for crushing my dreams. Someone had to do it, and you did it before they could. You're my hero for doing whatever the hell you feel like, and just not giving a shit about anything. If anything, you are a classhole, and I appreciate that.

Cameron gets the honor of being the one person who I wanted to be more than anyone else. You showed me an ideal, and then taught me to be myself. I want to thank you for putting up with me all of the years I bothered you, and for still acknowledging my existence after everything. Thank you.


Finally, we come to Elven Doritos. You and I have had a fickle relationship, filled with verbal abuse, intense competition, and a grudging respect under it all. Recently, issues have arisen that I am willing to share in the responsibility for. However, I want my friend back. You are the voice of reason, even if the reason is humorous.

That's all folks, goodnight.

~ T

What are people?

This morning my thoughts rambled, as they are prone to do. My choice of music was Avril Lavigne's My World track, which worked some magic in that it cheered me up. So, in my ramblings this morning, I experienced some rather intriguing philosophical meanderings on the nature of people.

"People are inherently made of dichotomies, and yet can never be clearly divided into categories. The divide starts with the basics of male and female, old and young, black and white. But then the mind enters the field, and everything becomes complicated, creative and bromide, tired and inspired, experienced and naive. Really, there is no way to make a generalization about the whole species. Or so it appears.

In fact, all people have these terribly vague things called feelings or emotions, and the expression, or lack, of these things determines another's opinion of you. Some might call these feelings a fault, serving to interfere with the precision that could be man. Others say that these are the core of our being, the source of art and passion and war.

Yeah, I said it. War. Perhaps the most controversial product of human nature. It can be caused by greed, honor, or any of the other artificial idealistic constructs of the human mind. Either way, this phenomenon of violence is, in my opinion, the greatest flaw in our nature. It makes us worse than animals, who kill only for their own need, and worse than nature, which kills out of ignorance. Humanity is on the whole the most despicable thing on this earth, and that is why it deserves only what it has given to the world, destruction.

However, Art is the dichotomous opposite of war. where one destroys, the other creates. One is profane and blasphemous, the other divine and valorous in it's beauty. In my opinion, art is the only redeeming factor in the equation of our existence. The existence of man."

There you have it folks, my thoughts on man. Where do I fit in all of this? Well, I'm an artist and philosopher, so I merely paint the truth, and attempt to discern it through the veil of lies that the world puts up to obscure the facts.

~ T

A Movie For Posterity

The latest film that I have had the joy of watching, I would recommend that everyone see. It rings true with the moral chords of humanity, and it will change your life. The movie I choose to endorse today, is "Rent".

This film is a delicate thing, and it certainly is not an average production. It starts slow, and the presentation as a musical strikes me oddly. However, if the viewer could just bear with this work of art, and endure the beginning, the film proves it's worth. At the end, even I felt an emotional stirring, and I assure you that this fantastic piece can only do more for you.

Some might feel discouraged from watching this film due to the somewhat controversial subjects it speaks on. However, I ensure any prospective audience that the vibrant and hopeful tones of the film will overwhelm any negative concepts within it's bounds.

I sincerely recommend this film to anyone, of any generation, because it's meaning is universal, and it's message of an importance which cannot be understated.

Seriously, watch this film,

~ T

Candy

Today I watched the movie "Candy", and I come to you bearing my thoughts on it.

The plot was slow to start, and the pacing was in need of work. The cast, although gifted with a big name, gave a rather bland performance. Lots of sobbing and shaking, but not much emotion carried through to the viewer. Near the end, it picks up, and the whole three frames of mind (heaven, earth, and hell) was a nice touch.

My final word is that it's nice to rent, a nifty concept, but it had a poor execution. Rent it for sure, but don't buy it. If you want a better druggy movie, may I recommend Thumbsucker or Imaginary Heroes?

~ T

Cleanliness is next to godliness

Today I took a shower, and for some unknown reason, I felt my mind become stimulated. Thankfully, I took notes afterwards, and I have material for two more posts after this one stashed away. But today's blog has to deal with one of my new plans.

I realized upon finishing my shower today how important being clean is to my motivational process. When I have removed the grime and exhaustion of the past, I am free to undertake any task, and conquer any obstacle. So today, I intend to do just that. I'm going to clean my house, my computer, and the corners of my mind so that maybe, just maybe, I'll be ready to deal with tomorrow a little better.

Squeaky Clean,

~ T

The only thing to fear, is fear itself. Right?

The philosopher Lao-tzu once said "Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power." I read this quote years ago, and it still guides my thoughts when they are left without a greater influence.

Anyway, as the topic of this post suggests, today's blog is about fear. To be specific, my own two greatest fears. After many efforts to comprehend my own mind through self-contemplation, these two states of living have arisen as the least pleasant to me.

The first is the fear of missing out. It is my perpetual fear that I will not be there to hear the joke, or be unable to take advantage of an opportunity. This manifests in such simple things as desiring "limited edition" collectibles, and affects me in such profound ways as an unquenchable desire to be where the action is. Perhaps the greatest issue that arises from this fear is that I am prone to irrational courses of action in my efforts to avoid being left out.

My second major fear is harder to explain and understand. I am afraid of deletion, the void, and decay. You see, I save pictures, books, quotes, anything I can, if only to prevent it's eventual destruction. I find it incredibly frustrating that so little in this world is truly permanent, and this is why I fight so hard to preserve the beautiful, profound, and significant.

Well, there is today's insight. Until next time...

~ T

Good, or bad, Charlotte

So, Good Charlotte's new album, Good Morning Revival, came out on Tuesday. After listening to it for two days now, I feel ready to give my opinion to anybody who is actually reading this.

My first and primary note is that the album is flavorful, but an acquired taste. Some adjustment is required if you're coming straight from their older works. The instrumental parts have become more subtle, and the subject matter has continued the noticeable trend of darkness that started with The Chronicles Of Life And Death. Many of the songs struck a chord with me, and stirred up feelings I had tried hard to bury. After overcoming the initial impression however, I find the music to affect me in a more pleasant manner. Even though the subject is depressing, I find myself tapping my foot and humming along anyway. I recommend the album to those with a taste for subtle instrumental parts, grim reality, and "emo" music.

Just a note on the mention of emo. There are many conflicting definitions of this word, and I use it in varying context. In this review, it applies to the attitude of the songs towards misery and wearing black. If someone wears their sorrow as a badge and acts sad just to match their dark clothes, that's emo. Someone who is actually sad and rightfully so falls under a different category, in my opinion. So, understand that Good Morning Revival is certainly not positive music, and it carries with the stigma of depression for the sake of attention. I'm not insulting the music, but it's not for everybody.

"I hear you" said the deaf man

Listening to music on the radio today. Satellite Radio, great invention by the way. So, I listened, and I really tried to sing along. For once, I think I came close to being in tune.

Now, I'm going to sort out my music collection, and sing along more often, as well as isolate the traits of the music I like. Maybe I can start a band, or at least use GarageBand to make what I want. Anyway, I'll at least make an effort to become more musically inclined. Who said being tone-deaf means you can't make music?

~ T

Why I'm a Writer

For most of my life, I've had artistic inclinations, a desire to share the things I see with the world around me. I have a vivid imagination, and clear visions of some crazy things which need to be released somehow. However, my drawing skills are paltry, at best, and my other artistic efforts haven't fared much better under scrutiny.

However, late one night, I complained to a friend that I couldn't share the pictures in my head. I wanted one thing, to be able to paint. And it was on that night that I wrote my signature piece, the vignette that showed I could paint.

Painter of the visions in his head,

~ T

Tired but Content

I feel old.

I walk, and my joints creak and crack. I watch children run by and ponder the futility of their existence. Somehow, this "wisdom" is balanced as of late, however. A conscious effort on my part has restrained my misery, leaving me here, today. I am exhausted by this last week, which has been hectic, however I feel content knowing that I survived it, and will live to see many more weeks like it.

So, until I have more time,

~ T

Her name is Jamie

Today and yesterday, I saw a girl for the first time in a long time. We met years ago, and dated or were chasing each other for most of the intervening time. Laughter was heard, hearts were broken, tears were shed, and lessons were learned.

I last saw her in August of last year, and now it's March. She has changed, and so have I. She held me, and I held her, and I looked at her face, into her eyes. There, I saw something new. Where every time I've thought of her since, I felt regret, guilt, and pain, this time I felt my heart giving up the ghost. I loved this girl, and at one time she was everything to me, and she felt the same way. I bear the scars of that devotion, and so does she. But now, today, I think I have overcome the past, and I feel ready to accept that the past is past, and the future is waiting.

"Some things die, but their corpses make good fertilizer."

~ T

Wise words

A friend of mine was discussing this blog post with me today, and he said something which I think is important enough to be shared with any readers I may have now or gain in the future.

"I've never felt the smallest inkling of desire to try drugs or to smoke weed or any of that, and it's not because of some high-and-mighty, holier-than-thou attitude, it's not because I'm feeding into the propaganda machine, it's not because I think druggies smell bad and have no fashion sense (well, that's beside the point). When I was about your age, which wasn't really all that long ago, there were options like this presented to me. As it is for all young folk reaching adulthood. And it becomes the question, not of what others tell you is right or wrong, but what you determine to be right and what consequences you're willing to live with because of your actions. Just remember that doing drugs simply because a peer is pressuring you to is not only removing the power of controlling your destiny from your hands but is also, and this part is key, not going to produce positive long-term results. The consequences will be yours to deal with."

Sharing thoughts,
T

One of those days...

So, today was one of those days. What kind of day, one of those. To be more specific, the kind of day where you feel disillusioned about everything, filled with a truth that does nothing to satisfy or improve, but only brings you down. The grim realization that most of what you do is futile in the grand scope of things. Every day will blur, eventually, and most memories will be forgotten.

I walked through the halls, watching the people in my school. Every one talked, animated gestures, expressions of joy, sorrow, or rage bedecking their faces like the fashion of the year. Every one of them takes the day so seriously, like it's the most important thing in the world. But when I watched them, hearing only music from my iPod, I saw the hollow truth behind it all. Most of what we do will amount to nothing, most of what we feel doesn't matter, and if someone were to kill every single one of these people, in 10 years, it would be nothing but an article in some newspaper archivew that most people acknowledge with a simple nod before changing the topic of conversation, just another "unfortunate tragedy" in our lives.

The sad part is, there is no moral to the story of our lives, unless one can delude himself so far as to see one. I will continue to live this pointless life, even though I am not sure of any purpose. Maybe some day I can delude myself and rejoin the blind masses who enjoy life, some day I can be ignorant again.

~ T

"Youth is truly wasted on the young"

The topic of today's blog is youth. To be young, one must be reckless and unable to appreciate the value of the state.

Today I was thinking upon the nature of youth, because I am constantly living in fear of misspending mine. I don't smoke, drink, or do any illegal drugs. However, the desire to do these things has permeated my being thoroughly until recently, and only the lack of any opportunity to engage in these activities has prevented me from doing so. It seems that these activities have been closely intertwined with the concept of being young in my mind. To err is human, and to make mistakes is the prime characteristic of childhood and immaturity. If one does not make mistakes, then one has never lived on his own, instead vicariously feeding off the experiences of others who have come before. If I do not learn the lessons myself, how do I know that something was not lost in the communication of the truths the last generation has imparted to me?

A friend tells me that I'm not missing anything by not going to parties, and to focus on school and my future is the proper course. Yet another friend would have me believe that getting high is the best part of life. I don't know who to trust, and even trusting at all seems like a bad plan to me in general.

Confusion rules my life right now, and these thoughts were extracted from the meanderings of my mind. I hope the words taught you something.

T

Shh!

Today, I've been listening to "The Hush Sound", and finding them delightful. Soothing, inspirational, or something else entirely depending on what track you listen to, this band is all over the place. The music is smooth and easy on the ears, and heavily lyrical, all characteristics I am heavily fond of. One trait I am particularly fond of is that every one of their love songs has a metaphor or tells a story, rather than rehashing the same words every pop band has used for years. Seriously, check this band out.

In other news, the site administrator of my home on the internet, the CBG, is getting married today. Congratulations Ishmayl! The website he presides over is a community of intellectuals and RPG gamers, all gathered together in one place for the purpose of designing (fictional) worlds. If this sounds like your kind of place, check it out here. I stop by every day, and my user-name is Natural 20. See you there!

My Island, My Dream

I know what I want from life. The place I want to be, the place I want to work for. I guess I'm lucky in this, that even if I don't know what I'll do with my life, or where I'm going, I know what I want.

Sometime down the road, I'll get a job, maybe even this summer. I'd like to work at a game store, or even a clothing store. Sorting stuff is fine by me, and at least I know what I'm talking about with games. Hot Topic would be fun, as I look the part of a Goth already, and I can glare at everyone.

Someday, preferably at the start of college, I can get a computer. If I can get software as part of a student package, it'll be a Mac, but otherwise I'm leaning towards a PC. There's just more free-ware that works on Windows. I need a scanner so I can convert my sketches and notes to a digital format. The more my life is digitalized, the better. Most of my friends are online, and they're all I need anyway.

I'll sell all of my stuff, and just have a bank account and my computer. Stuff is too much of a hassle anyway. These days books, music, and even my art can all be had in computer files. So, I'll get an apartment to store my computer in, and live happily. I can write, draw, and chat without ever seeing the accursed sun, and rot away out of sight, and out of mind. This is my island, this is my dream.

A Pointless Endeavor

I was reading "The Fountainhead" today, and I was visited by a familiar feeling. I feel that I am generally capable of appreciating the better things, whether they be art, literature, or even food. This talent, although useful at times, is a double-edged sword in the sense that I am able to recognize the flaws in any work that I create.

They say ignorance is bliss, and I believe that this is true in a sense. My lack of ignorance on the part of my inability to create flawless art inhibits any attempt to put forth effort in the pursuit of such works. When I can look at a painting which is exponentially more beautiful than anything I can make, a book which makes any story of mine trivial and crude, or a song which makes my musical meddling sound coarse, the state of affairs becomes truly demoralizing. How can I work at bettering myself, when there are examples of greatness all around me? If someone has the answer to this question, I would like very much to hear it. My future endeavors would benefit greatly from the support of a goal which is not hollow or false.

Two Bands

Today I'm going to discuss two of my favorite bands. Panic! At The Disco and My Chemical Romance.

Panic! At The Disco is fun to listen to, being very active in the rhythms and granting an almost irresistible urge to jump up and snap your fingers. My personal favorite songs by them are "London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines", "There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet", and "I Constantly Thank God For Esteban". Of special note is the band's use of archaic instruments in the later tracks of their album. I personally felt the atmosphere of an old saloon when listening to the song "There's A Good Reason...", and it was one of the first songs I've encountered recently that made me feel happier instead of proving another reminder of the sorrows life delivers regularly.

My Chemical Romance's latest album, "The Black Parade" is an uplifting collection of songs that fills the listener with emotions of rebellion and righteous anger which the youth of today is so terribly fond of. "Welcome To The Black Parade" has received some radio play, and I find it a softer and more comforting tune than most of the band's previous work on earlier albums. The band has a tendency to scream and play their instruments in a manner that can be rough on the ears. Personally, I think "The Black Parade" shows a bit a maturity in it's sound, relying more on the merits of the music and it's message, and less on the presence of the artists. My recommended songs for this album are "This Is How I Disappear", "The Sharpest Lives", "Welcome To The Black Parade", and "Famous Last Words".

In a musical mood,
T

The Sketchbook

So, today I walked down to the campus bookstore and bought myself a sketchbook.

• 9 x 12"
• 75 pages
• wirebound (not spiral)
• brand: Cachet
• Price: $16.95
  
• Picture
  
• Rating: 3 stars
  

So, I got robbed on this thing. What's that they say? "Never judge a book by it's cover.", I thought that only went for books with words in them, what a silly mistake. After looking online, I found cheaper books with more pages and better covers. A beginner's mistake, and it won't happen again.

Anyway, I start today on improving my drawing skills. I'll probably stick to graphite pencil, with some pen outlines for effect. When I get some nice pictures, I'll post them up on the blog via my improvised scanner, a camera.

Artist-In-Training,
T

The Introduction

Hello Readers, and welcome to The Inkblot.

My name is Tony, and I'm 16. I'm a naturally talented writer, proficient actor, and a meddler in several other forms of artistic expression. I have few friends, and my favored few are distant acquaintances garnered through the power of the internet. As a matter of fact, it is they who inspired the creation of this blog.

The Blog is to be a place for me to display my art, my thoughts, and my life with those who would listen. I expect readers to be few and far between, and I suspect that the writings found here may not be what everyone finds enjoyable. So please, stop by, read, and if you don't like it, use your browser's "back" button to leave the page. If you do like it however, I'll do my best to continue updating regularly.

With my next entry, I'll get right into the thick of things by commenting on a topic of my choice. I hope you find it enjoyable.

Peace,
T