What do you mean what do I mean?

Today, I caught myself smiling at music. My world of memory, my healing balm, my reconciled flow that carries and, sometimes blatantly, brings reality. There never was a single nocturne or exitlude afraid of being the one to tell me like it truly was, like it truly is. And, you know, this isn't to say I never had an idea of what I felt; but because more than enough humans have already experienced youth, and fortunately we have those who can retell such nostalgia in the form of music, it seems as though I don't need myself to express mysely, necessarily. Surely you have felt that feeling; the feeling where what you have just finished hearing on the radio or illegaly downloaded off the internet almost perfectly describes how you feel in that given moment. And so it is with me. Who wouldn't want to listen to something they can relate to? The lyrics may not even have to make sense; the artist(s) may be accepted as "cool" or "respectable" within the community; they may not even have to be musicians who have earned their way onto your mix CD or iPod playlist, necessarily (hello modern music commercialism); whatever connection you feel with the song, you take it in as your own. And sometimes you can't believe you just finished humming that one song you thought you would never like or accept for what it stands for, or what it reveals about you. Oh yes, music can very much serve as the harsh truth we never like to hear initially. Yet, in the very same instance, I feel a strange, but assuring peace when such truth is revealed. Don't you?

Sometimes I daydream about leaving (mostly) everything behind in order to pursue whatever musical passion burns within. I wonder what things would be like if I decided to risk it all on simply going for it, I do. Haven't really told you this before, but this is a dream I have had for quite some time. Now, holding a profession in music may happen in the future, it may not. In any case, it never has been sin to wonder what could be. This may sound like regret, but it isn't. In fact, this possibility will only increase as time goes by. I am not worried if I ever "get there". I am more worried about losing what it takes to get there, and so I will make sure I never do.

You have to wonder just how much time goes into making a song. It not only takes guts to start a simple melody; it takes much more will to finish that melody,however, creating a story out of it. It's hard to not get distracted or discouraged. Sometimes you never do end up finding what you're looking for. But when you dig deep enough, you are bound to find something. Perhaps something you were not intending to look for, in the first place. I am constantly trying to expand my musical palate by looking up artists that have caught my attention, in a good way of course, in the least bit. A lot of the time, I end up liking what I find..but I have also learned that you cannot force yourself to like a band's style. As much as you enjoy one or two of their conversations, their overall language may just not understood or attractive. And that's okay. I don't think there's bad music, necessarily. There is, however, opinion (and I'll leave it at that). What frustrates me is the apparent lack of heart in today's music for the masses. Of course, there are many artists that can change live within a matter of tasteful chords; nevertheless there seems to be an extreme exploitation of catchy melody and sensual tempation. It's unfortunate, yes. But I suppose it's necessary also, if it is what makes me appreciate the substantial making of music even more.

It should probably be known by now that all of the music I listen to is synonymous with you and many others. I get thinking to just how oblivious you may be to this simple but very significant fact, and this thought then makes me wonder just how clueless I may be as well. The thought of getting to know how much, or how little, you are thought of in one song or an entire album is exciting. At the same time, however, I don't really want to know how little I am thought of, at all. But tell me anyway because I lie, I would like to know. And I'm sure you would like to know, too.

Time-Out

Throughout the past year, I experienced many things of many kinds. BYU opened my eyes to how pure the gospel can thrive when it is willingly accepted, when everyone implies that kindness is, well, implied. Of course, no one is without their life-long struggles and post-high school identities. There was much for me to change and work on when it came to dealing with the church, people, and myself. And I honestly believe that it was because of the atmosphere filled with the Spirit of God I was able to gain perspective (hence, the introductory praising of BYU). Many things were changed, and many things are being worked on. Here's one of them.

I'm not sure how to coherently explain this.

It is not uncommon for people to simultaneously experience opposing emotions, right? I've thought about this for quite some time...Now that high school is over, so is an interesting time of my life. The facts that going to school in another state and, perhaps, never getting to see certain people again eventually led me to realize that whatever was needed to be said to these certain people would not be easy to say. In other words, with many months and thousands of miles in between two people, electronic communication just wouldn't be the same as experiencing the nervous thrill and intimate craze of talking to a friend(s) face-to-face. I guess you could say this is why I started writing. Still, there were some things that needed to be addressed to friends I may have lost contact with and whatnot. Most of what has/was on my mind got through in one way or another, which is always good (I think). Some things were left unsaid, however. And I wonder to myself if this is ultimately good thing. Should everything be said? Maybe not. But I feel as though if what it is considered to be said can change someone's life for the better, there is no reason it shouldn't be said. Now, I refer to the title of my first post. This is what worries me about me.

After many months of late night brooding and daylight dreaming, I still can't bring myself to tell let certain people know what I feel towards them. After stripping down the complex, disorganized, and metaphysical museum that is my mind to its purely emotional workings, I see that several things prevent/scare me from confessing that which is needed to be confessed. Simply put: I am nervous of how they will respond, I am worried that what I say will mean nothing in particular to them, and It seems as though they have no intentions of wanting to talk to me in the first place (perhaps because they don't see me as a close enough friend?). Now arguments against these thoughts have been considered. And it is not my intention to give excuses, but this social nervousness. proves to be a steeper hill for me. I suppose it happens to everyone. Just goes to show you how much in common we have in ways that would seem to be lonely or so personal that you may think no one knows how you feel. Oh, hey there. The more I think about these things, the more I realize these concerns are silly and mental. And yet as much I try to fix them (or at least think I am trying), there is not much progress. Which brings me to another conclusion. Isn't it so interesting to know of the aspects of your life that you will constantly fight and persist in overcoming? Change has never been so immediate for me, my friend. No, things have never taken immediate effect and, thus, be immediately accepted (except for maybe listening to Third Eye Blind and eating pizza for the first time).

I cherish the fact that I have problems to overcome. It lets me know that there is a better life years, perhaps even mere seconds, from now. As a good musician once sang, "Every moment in your life is a chance to get it right." Let there be opposition in my life; for when I am gray-hair old and poorly-posture fragile, I will have a story to tell. Now this is not to say I won't ever overcome these things. I honestly don't know when this is to occur. But for now, I have some thinking to do and people to (hopefully) talk to.

This may not make sense, but I hope you understand.

I Am a Hypocrite.

These thoughts I write are meant to be expressed not because I would like to set them down, never to pick them up again, but because they should have already been set down for some time, now. And though these thoughts may not strike you as shockingly revelatory or coherently explanatory, they nevertheless consist of the more intimate venues that ultimately construct my life. Due to recent events that occured and reunions that have taken place with both family and friends, the thought of moving on in life has not only begun to nudge, but seemingly shove me onto San Bernardino. No matter the negative connotation that may come along, my decision to serve a mission for the LDS church is not to be looked upon as something that has forced me to change, but rather as a time in life that has unexpectedly arrived (which does not make sense, for I have known for years now that this bittersweet good-bye would come); I have every reason to look forward to these next two years. Let's get to the title now, huh?

Hypocrisy is tough; realizing you may be a hyprocrite yourself is tougher; coming to accept that you are hypocrite, however, can be as relieving as it is common. Take what you want from it. I not only see this as an honest mistake, but by realizing that this timid hypocrisy is in fact a flaw, I recognize that I am human/imperfect. It has never been a goal of mine to work at life in such a manner that I keep a checklist of things I need to work on and, therefore, seek to make myself that much more perfect. I am not so detailed as to better myself in every aspect because I need to. No, I do not think that is how life should be lived. On the contrary, my days consist of doing things that are productive, knowing that such things are done because they can be done and I want them to be done; I can be better, I want to be better. To be living actively does not mean looking for ways to make the most of your current situation by putting yourself out there and constantly look for something to do for the betterment of whatever, although this definition could very well be someone else's sole philosophy. In fact, I find this to be true in many instances, it is an honorable way to live. No, I consider being actively engaged in life to mean something (NOT entirely) else.

Your life, your character, who you are and what you live for can be actively conveyed by the decisions you make when faced with opposing ideals and alternatives. That, in my opinion, is one of the greatest ways in which we can live. It is far better for one to explore this world of imagination and creation with a foundation of knowing who you are and what you want to become than to indifferently stroll alongside any and every experience this probationary state has to offer. Of course, you may not know who you are and what you want to be become from the start, but once the idea and plan of how you can get there is revealed, it should not only be applied but accepted as well. In short, we have purposes to fulfill in this life. Once that step to self actualization is known, I think it's safe to say that it is important for you to seize the potential it holds by having the desire to want to get there. If there is any way to prevent hypocrisy, it is by doing what you know to be right and not dwell on those things which are learned and felt to be wrong. This is not what I intended to write about, initially. In fact, I planned to write with the intentions of proving that I am a hyprocrite (as the title so briefly states) and not argue against being such a human! So I suppose that topic will take place in my next online therapeutic session, for that is why I wish to express these thoughts; in these times of change, I look for any way to comfort and calm my anxious mind.

Tangents: can't live with them, can't live without them.