Why I hate Christmas

I hate this cliché phrase but I'll say it anyway. It's that time of year again. The time when everywhere I go the streets are flooded with green and red decorations, ridiculously overused carols that have been sung every year for I'm sure about 100 years. stores have huge blowout sales, people everywhere wish you a "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" . The city isn't lined with Christmas. It's overflowing with it to a point of nausea. The worst part is not that I am being demanded to explain my 'unusual' behaviour in denying such a 'wonderful' holiday, but that they don't even listen to my explanation because they are too busy gaping at my choice and saying why Christmas is 'the best time of the year'

I am fed up with trying to explain my theories to sheep. So I've decided to post it on my blog instead. If they truly want to know why, I'll send them here.

My dear people who actually care:

I am an agnostic individual that likes questioning things. However, were I still the closed minded Christian I used to be, I still wouldn't celebrate this atrocity of a holiday.Why, you ask? Well here's why:

1. First of all, Christmas, despite the name, has absolutely NOTHING to do with Christianity or the birth of Jesus. Jesus's birthdate is unknown but calculated to be around spring. I know, right? shocking. In fact, Christmas isn't even mentioned in the bible. 

so then why do people do all those celebrations with the tree and the gift giving?

2. Most people don't even know what the traditions even mean.Christmas's traditions are based on several different religions. Mostly it's a knockoff Pagan holiday- The winter solstice celebration, mixed with a million different traditions. 

for example, the Christmas tree is actually a German tradition, the mistletoe comes from a Scandenavian goddess, the gift giving comes from a Roman festival called Kalends...and there are so many other traditions that we don't even know how they originated or why we do them..which brings me to point three.

3. I don't want to follow traditions for the sake of following them. I believe that everything you do should have a reasoning behind it. I don't want to end up like the allegory of the 12 monkeys (http://briankeaney.wordpress.com/2012/10/11/the-allegory-of-the-12-monkeys/), it can result in danger. We could one day we will end up killing someone every Thursday because of some ancient sacrifice that was performed to the Gods to bring rain down on our land, but now, we just do it because we were taught to and that's what's done every Thursday. Innocent lives would be destroyed due to an ancient rule that no longer applies. Sure, you might think, "Giving gifts on the 25th of December is not killing anyone." I agree, but I still think that we should do things because we believe in them, not because it's what the family has done for generations. If you are pagan and you want to celebrate the winter solstice, and decide that you like putting a tree with ornaments to remind you that spring will soon come, and maybe sing some carols about and to your pagan god, be my guest!But know why you are doing it.

4. Christmas is driven by commercialism and greed.

This holiday has just destroyed any sanctity left in the crazy holiday. Ads urge you to buy something for everyone you know. the pressure to buy, buy, buy is on. It is seen as a disgrace if you don't buy a family member or a spouse or a friend a present. I think this just proves how terribly greedy we all are. In Christmas people are urged to buy bigger and bigger. Someone who is in terrible debt goes even more in debt because of our consumerist country forcing us to think this way. I refuse to spend my money on someone because I have to, even if I truly love them, I don't want it to be a need. I want to spend my money on that person because I want to and because it comes from the heart. 

I'm not asking you to stop celebrating, I'm not telling you that it's bad. I'm just saying to look around. \

Question things. 

Always, always ask 'Why?' 

Back when my dad was cute..

Such a model couple

I really love old family photos

my two grandmothers and coca cola

My spanish side

My spanish side of the family way way back when

My dad's Bird and Cat when he was younger

Capu without the Chino

It's crooked.

If I had one note higher in my range, I could do Queen of the night...

Queen of the night

It has dawned on me

ahh...I remember this

It's a terrible, wonderful world, the one of dance.
It's a wonderfully terrible world the one of dance.

Mercy

The quality of mercy is not strain’d,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath

The Merchant of Venice (Act IV scene i)

This topic describes the simple, gentle act of mercy. Mercy is not strained, the quote says, this means that no one shows mercy because he or she has to, it is a subconscious act that comes without premeditation. Mercy simply occurs the way gentle rain drops on the ground, it is not an act of force, it simply comes to those with kind hearts.

a personal response on Karen Armstrong's Homoreligiosis

 The early civilizations of human life, the Homo sapiens, embarked their young on a sort of initiation ceremony that marked the transformation of an adolescent boy to a man; but it was not a ritual or a practice or words he must memorize, he must face the unknown. He must enter a pitch-black cave and immerse himself into the lonely darkness. To face death is not an easy thing, it may change one’s view on life, maybe make him appreciate that which gives him the comfort of stability and peace. During the initiation, the boy is annihilated from any normal or natural states of mind. When the boy experiences the paintings, he will be altered in a way that will change his mind forever. There is no rule or way of doing so; it is a matter of personal experience and discovery of one’s self. In the discovery, he learns to find value in life and find meaning through understanding. As Armstrong mentions ‘As meaning-seeking creatures, men and women fall very easily into despair we want to find value in life’. Humans have an urge to find a reason for staying alive, and suffering through hard times. This might be a result of evolution, of carrying on the genes for survival for our race. The more humans believe in a meaning of life and therefore fear death, the stronger the population grows.

                As the times change, so do our needs for survival, and therefore also do our ways of getting it. For example, as humans discovered the use of agriculture, less hunting was necessary, and worshiping the animals was not as significant. Rather, people started to worship the sun and the rain, which provided them with crops to survive. Religion, therefore, is derived from mankind getting what they want or need from a higher power. This may consequence in the creation of an archetype. If studied closely, most religious stories contain the existence of an all-powerful being, which created the universe in infinite love, warning them about the dire consequences of disobedience, and providing them with eternal happiness if obeyed. Going back to my original point, this is because humans need reassurance that their long-suffering struggle for survival has not been in vain. Humans use religion as a form of encouragement to do good and thank something for the services the world provides us with.

Can't you see?

I bounce along the edges, skimming the sides, I dance around the truth, only seeing the lies. I cannot see the big picture, I am too close to the paint. I oversee the outcome, because I'm in a daze. Everyone tells me "can't you see?" but my eyes are too focused on the detail, to be. I stare at the ceiling, the door, and the tile. My mind is in a wander, rehearsing the guile. I cannot seem to decipher what who is in front of me, my attention is too focused on the buttons of his blazer.  

A tragic love story

“o Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

“what satisfaction canst thou have to’night?”

“the exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine”

“I thee mine before thy dis’t request it and would I were to give it thee again”

“would thy remove it? For what purpose, love?”

“to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have! My love’s bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love is deep the more I give to thee the more I have, but both are infinite.”

​​​~a tragic love story

"Childhood is a kingdom"

Childhood is a kingdom where no one ever dies...

nothing

If you love me, then why do you not embrace me?

You hug me, but you don’t kiss me.

I am trying to protect you.

the sky looks green.

It misses you.

Don’t tell me that.

I say only the truth.

You told me you loved me.

I did not lie.

I cannot live life without you

You must.

The moon is running away.

It does not love the sun.

The sun illuminates the moon, but they cannot share the same sky.

The clouds mourn the moon’s departure.

The clouds mean nothing to the moon.

The moon means everything to the sun.

The sun should not love the moon. It is too brilliant to seek such a small thing.

The moon is the sun’s contrast, its yang.

I cannot touch the ground.

Don’t. float away.

I must not.

I need it.

I must leave.

My heart will be flooding

Don’t let it. There is nothing here to make you bleed.

I am only in a delicate room with a thousand knives pointing to my heart.

Nothing can hurt you. I must not.

I love you.

.

I linger here. I should not.

You have left, you have fled.

I know I should not wait, because you will not come.

And yet I do, I wait.

And wait,

And wait.

But you do come.

And nothing ever happened.

I forgive you.

And still, you leave.

You are forgiven,

But my heart is not.

It hurts again.

Like a wound that closes up

But opens again

And again

And again.

Greatest quote for artists

You have a lot to learn, young man. Philosophy. Theology. Literature. Poetry. Drama. History. Archeology. Mythology. Music. These are your tools as much as you paintbrush and pigment. You cannot be an artist until you are civilized. You cannot be civilized until you learn. To be civilized is to know where you belong in the continuum of your art and your world. To surmount the past, you must know the past.

 ~Mark Rothko in Red

Feeling Twiggy

"Demolish it All"

I refuse to think about you.
But I do.
My heart swells when I think about you.
It aches with a longing that cannot be understood through words or pictures.
I cannot comfort it, it goes too deep.
Like a monster, caged in my ribs, stuck in the claustrophobic space between my lungs and my bones
it demolishes everything in sight, everything meaning my heart.
Every small, insignificant thought about you wakes the monster, poking it to cruelly damage my heart again.
I need to stop this masochism, but I can't help thinking about.
you.

Unfinished Buisness

I am not done here, continue on...

I'm feeling very optimistic today...

It's a new dawn, it's a new day its a new life for me, and I'm feeling good.

Feeling empty..

The only thing we must fear, is fear itself..

"Black Whole"

The past

My favorite quote

I believe in the imagination. What I cannot see is infinitely more important than what I can see.

~Duane Michals

Between my feet and the ground

The song that keeps me going

Why in the night sky are the lights on Why is the earth moving round the sun? Floating in a vacuum with no purpose, not a one Why in the night sky are the lights hung

~fleet foxes-blue spotted tail
 I dont know why but it's the song that makes me see beauty when I'm feeling down..thank you, fleet foxes!

Someday I will fly.

In sanity

Honestly and truly, I don’t believe the world is split into crazy and sane. Everyone is crazy. Period. Some are just more obvious than others. When someone’s lack of sanity is more visible to the world, they are labeled as so. The way that dysfunctional toys at a toy factory are labeled as defected and sent back to be fixed. Just like humans. They always try to fix people so that they’re “normal”. But normal really just means that your crazy is hidden. And if it is more hidden, it is harder to spot. Like tattoos. Some tattoos are on your arms or legs, so once someone sees you, they immediately label you as either dangerous, or sadistic or something. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating, but something along those lines. And some tattoos are somewhere hidden underneath your clothes, which no one can see, therefore they can’t label you as easily, but it’s still there.  See, everyone has a tattoo, some are just hidden underneath clothes, some are partly visible, and some are completely out there, for the world to see

Meaningless words

I speak, but to no one. Words are meaningless. Anyone can say words, Not everyone can think. I believe in actions and thoughts. Words are not worthy of my time. Say what you will, Feel what you feel, And do what you must do, But the only way to convince me is by showing me.

An English teacher once told me ...

" I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry. "

Energy

I feel the energy. It swarms through every nerve in my body. It activates every muscle; it coils, prepared to jump out of my thin flesh. It conjures at random places, like the inside of my wrist, the bottom of my lip, the toe of my right foot. It pulses like a tiny heart, it stings like a little needle, and it shakes with energy. The energy travels through every inch of my body at random moments. I inhale deeply, hold it in for a second, and exhale. I feel the electricity jump out of my flesh for a fraction of a second, and it goes back in. lingering there, though it is not static. It is constantly making me twitch involuntarily. I cannot help feeling jittery, riding a strange high. Not a happy one, a very, very uncomfortable one. My muscles are tired, but they keep twitching due to the energy pushing them. I try my best to relax, but I feel as though I am not on this Earth. I am flying, and lightning is descending from every inch of my flesh. I concentrate very hard to move the energy. It takes a few hours and many, many tries, but eventually I transfer most of the energy to my fingers and toes, where it lingers for half a second, then recoils and like an elastic band which jumps back to its original state. I stand up in impatience. A shudder bigger than any I’ve ever experienced runs through my body. Suddenly I have the urge to jump, and run, as I’ve never ran before. I have an urge to smash things, to destroy and crush. I jump in place, trying to rid myself of those horrid thoughts. But all of a sudden, I become really warm in my sweater, probably because of the friction. I rip off my sweater impatiently and throw it on the ground. I look at my olive skin. What is this? Even though I feel as though my skin is burning, I have…goose bumps? I shake my head, unbelieving. Finally, I sit down and try unsuccessfully to ignore the feeling in my body and think rationally. What can I do…I pick up the nearest book and flip it open to a random page. My eyes skim over the words, unseeing. Instead, my brain tries to sort out the symptoms and figure out what is happening to me. Insomnia. Maybe I haven’t been sleeping enough. Maybe I just need a few more hours. Impossible, I’ve been sleeping exactly 8 hours a night for the past week. Drip, drop. I look out the window. How cliché. It is raining, and a cloud of depression surrounds my head. The claustrophobia starts, and my restless body flinches from the obstruction. Suddenly, I grow very weak and tired. Slowly, my every joint relaxes and droops with gravity. I can no longer lift even a finger. Abruptly, an idea comes to my head. Water. I make a huge effort to open the window and stick my hand out. Water will turn off the fire. Sure enough, as each miniscule droplet of water falls on my hand, the energy relaxes a bit. As soon as the energy is almost completely gone from my hand, I feel a change. All of the energy begins to travel to one point. It is drained from every inch of my body, and only occupies a single area. Not good. Not good. It is even more uncomfortable now that the lightning is more concentrated in the middle of my chest. Too hot, too much. Make it stop. The electricity grows stronger with every passing second, so much that I have to stand up and pace around the room. I grip my shirt, as if that will pause the pain. As the torture steadily grows, my knees buckle under me, and I can only see my head hit the ground. I am in too much pain to feel anything else than that of my chest. Damn electricity, get out of me. I take in shallow, shaky breaths, and think of nothing but the feeling of love, and pleasure, and happiness to distract me from the pain. That seems to ease the lightning. I try again, and the result is astonishing. It seems as though my thoughts and the physical pain are at war, sort of like a tug of war, fighting to gain sovereignty over my body. I curl into a ball on the floor and scream a piercing sound of pain which I barely hear. I shut my eyes, though I couldn’t see anything anyways, and see a dark tunnel. Suddenly, the pain has disappeared. I drift slowly across the tunnel, warm and comforting as it is. My eyes focus ahead of me, to the darkness, but something small catches my eye. I look to my right and see a little spark. I look closer, and a huge circle of light appears in the darkness. I immediately realize that the light is no light, it is the energy I had once, a lifetime ago running through my body, in a physical form. I also realize that it did not appear out of the blue, it was there the whole time. How did I not notice it before. It seemed painfully obvious now. I held the energy in my hands, and once again felt the beautiful feeling of love, in my own two hands

Shallow water

What a consumerist life we have been living. How gullible and stupid we are, letting such superficial ideas absorb us, enslave us, and even kill us. Why cannot beauty come from within? Oh right, because we are simple, vulnerable creatures that fear profanity and depth, and seek only the surface.

One time, I fell in love with a bird. It sang to me everyday, and I fell in love with it's song. but one day, it flew away and never came back.

Choices

The moment you realize you are living is the moment that you have choices. Life is full of them, choose wisely.