Diving

in

So here I am, wanting so badly to spring forward,

to leap out

and feel the thrill of falling

head over heels;

to feel the exhilaration

and the butterflies of cascading

into the unknown.

I want to fall fast,

to tumble and twirl and

Dive

head-first into the depths

of your soul

and swim up to your eyes

to see the pools where I reflect

and where I get lost.

I want to kick to the surface and know that

I can say

that I’m no longer afraid of heights

or depths,

to say I have no fear of sinking

because you make me feel buoyant.

You got me to climb, to feel so far,

and here I am at the top of the ladder,

but where did you go?

My heart keeps me from jumping.

It’s keeping my toes curled

at the edge of this board

because there’s too many unknowns and

the sun is staring me down,

blocking your rays and

all I see is yellow

as if you are the sun and

I become lost in your silence

and hesitant at my feet,

looking down into

where I want to be.

My knees quiver,

all I needed was a nudge.

But I’m backing down now

Finding your confidence in this

was a lie.

dear john

in

Dear John, I don’t love you, because I don’t know you. I sort of gave up on trying to figure out who you are because you’re becoming too much of a nuisance to comprehend and I’d rather not contribute to your ever-growing ego, if that's okay. What I see in you seems to have little to do with the person you seem to be, so I thought it necessary to explain why. For instance, three out of the four times I’ve seen you perform live, I’ve been perfectly content sitting in the lawn seats, because I don’t find it the least bit necessary to elbow others for a glimpse of your face. That’s just how it is.

I knew your music before I knew "you." I’m not much of a tabloid believer, and I don’t favor making assumptions about other people’s characters, but I can’t help but question if you’re one in the same. Most artists and writers use their words as their form of communication, their expression of their emotions, their experiences, and their personalities, to ultimately describe them. With that, I know your music, and the lyrical genius and poet behind the conceited façade you put out. I’ve spent the past five years getting to know the person who wrote your lyrics, and I’ve fallen pretty hard, for that side of you. But this self-centered, materialistic idle-life that you so wholeheartedly show off, not so much. Make sense? I guess it could.

I believe that it’s love when you realize that an entire song encompasses the entire extent of your current emotion, and when you can’t name a single favorite song by an artist, because they all matter. When it comes to your music, Continuum is my Chicken Soup for the Broken Heart. Try! is my motivation for pride. Room For Squares is my humble winter anthem. Heavier Things brightens my mood, and re-energizes my  individuality. But if this means your songs can relate to anyone, I’d at least like to know for sure who I can give the credit to, your heart, or this “mainstream” to which you’re attempting to appeal?

For example, I was intrigued by “Who Says,” and some other songs from Battle Studies, because after all the person you have built yourself to be through your past albums, "Who Says" presents a completely opposite person, a genuinely vain and indifferent asshole. Even if you are an asshole, it would seem kind of odd for you to be able to own the previous songs you have written, the lyrics that bring clarity to the indescribable depths of an emotion, without drowning it out or sapping it up with clichés. Either that or you just have an extraordinarily eloquent, captivating and yeah, maybe even heart-melting imagination. If anything. But I just don’t see a parallel between your lifestyle and your lyrics. You must have a heart, but in real life you seem to be severely lacking.

http://www.classytickets.com/events/4981.jpghttp://tojohnmayerwithlove.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/John-Mayer-OH-GggggODDDD.png

Whether your records actually record a different you or not, I guess will remain a mystery, unless someday you decide to put effort into how you appeal personally to the public. I sincerely believe that you’ve never cared what people think of you, even now as image is ironically your strongest vice towards fame. I remember you as the guy in jeans who made funny facial expressions when he sang, the kid who just wanted to play guitar, the kid who just had words, that made sense to him, claiming “someday [he’d] fly, someday [he’d] soar, someday [he’d] be so damn much more,” knowing deep down that he was “bigger than [his] body [gave him] credit for.” But then you gained popularity, you actually noticed that you started succeeding, and it got to your head, I'm guessing sometime while you were "waiting on the world to change." Well guess what? You finally fit the stereotype of a rising musician.

I was hoping that you’d never really notice your fame, and that you’d somehow hold onto a small piece of your modesty, but like the rest of the world, I only saw you climb higher up the rungs of arrogance. I would probably defend your haughtiness as simply knowing yourself better than most people know themselves, a sort of extreme self-awareness or a state of content self-acknowledgment. But I can’t defend your offenses or your self-pity, your solitude or your indifference. Maybe you’ll never care that much what people think of you, even as you grow more and more arrogant, but I had hoped you’d at least have direction, and would not become this aimless, as a person, in your career.

There are a plethora of things of which I am unsure, but one thing I can safely swear is that your music is something that will remain timeless to me. Regardless of how you choose to live your life, regardless of how your outlook affects your appeal, regardless of what people say, and regardless of whether your lyrics even actually mean anything to you, you ought to know that what you produce means more to me than who you are and what you do, and perhaps to a good majority of your faithful “fans.” I appreciate having a musical outlet for my emotions, and for having found some comfort in being able to relate to your songs. I don’t love you. But thank you for the soundtrack you’ve written, because my life would be kind of silent without it.

[unsent] photos: google.com/imghp

bliss

in ,

"I know what people mean when they say they feel as if they're floating. That's the way I felt, as if my feet weren't attached to the ground, as if they were bouncing off the floor, touching lightly, and bouncing again. And inside me, it was as if bubbles were drifting, bumping gently into each other. I was happy. No, that doesn't even describe it. I was... jubilant, ecstatic. I drew it using all the pencils– yellows and oranges, pinks and blues. I drew purple shoes on my feet and wings on my shoulders. My eyes were closed, the way you see pictures of angels sometimes with their eyelashes down on their cheeks. So does it make sense that I wasn't thinking? That all that floating and all those bubbles made me think I could do anything?" -Pictures of Hollis Woods by Patricia Reilly Giff

a moment in time

in

Lens, New York Times' photojournalism page, is creating a mosaic showcase project titled "A Moment in Time" that presents a glimpse of the world from thousands of perspectives at 15:00 hours U.T.C. on today, May 2, 2010 based on the submissions from photographers (anyone with a camera) across the globe. the images submitted are free to capture virtually anything, as long as it's representative of where the photographer has been or what the photographer has seen at that exact moment. i decided to participate, and captured a shot at that time (11:00am eastern) during a study break while at a nearby cafe, which will hopefully be included in the final showcase. whether it actually gets posted or not is fine by me, i just thought this was such a cool idea, and i can't wait to see the end result.

the site will be showing samples of the collection as it grows this week, and the final mosaic will be completed at the end of the submission period on Friday, so be sure to follow/check it out at lens.blogs.nytimes.com !!

modesty is a virtue.

in

it's all a matter of existing in the intermediate. if you give too much of yourself away, you're sure to get swept up in the breeze.

in some cases, we are so un-modest, we can't be satisfied with one face; we switch off between two. if you put your pride so far out, it has the potential of becoming something that's not you, and then what? you're stuck with associations and assumptions that you might not want or need to own. long story short, authenticity requires some degree of humility.

to be modest, we must be like a rose. as we bloom, we open and learn as we experience new things. but modesty requires some reserve. thorns are not meant as daggers, but as armor. they aren't intended to cause harm, to offend, to obstruct or to intimidate; they're there to defend, protect and preserve the beauty on the inside. it's not hiding, it's just cautious. simple. aware of itself, and revealing only what is necessary for the world to know it for what it is. if you live life like a daisy, stretching your petals as far as they'll go, it won't be long before you wilt from the sun or get plucked, petal by petal, under the reliance of some wishful thinker.

i don't claim to know much, but i offer the challenge to think not highly of yourself, but higher than yourself.

bloom, be, and be beautiful. recognize what is beautiful in the world and the world will recognize the beauty in you.

Desiderata: quite possibly my favorite philosophy.

in

by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender

be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;

and listen to others,

even the dull and the ignorant;

they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,

they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,

you may become vain and bitter;

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;

it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs;

for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals;

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection.

Neither be cynical about love;

for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment

it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,

be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,

no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,

whatever you conceive Him to be,

and whatever your labors and aspirations,

in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.