tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128611202011-12-14T21:04:32.588-06:00this is a glimpse into the mind and life of a 20 something male living life in the windiest of cities: searching, learning, loving, growing, knowing and showing the world a vision of the world in which he resides........whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.comBlogger1771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-37650066052258133642007-04-27T21:37:00.000-05:002007-04-27T21:38:39.904-05:00

I wanted to write Wednesday's installment of Lost off as sci-fi soap opera filler too blasé to devote my precious time towards pontificating upon. After all, I'm on a mission to save our environment from sediment and flooding and here I sit on the 10th floor of the Prudential Building, staring at a screen saver of a Hawaiian sunset, mind wandering to the implications of a few tidbits of Lostian

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-61399380199591654532007-04-21T15:34:00.000-05:002007-04-21T15:35:41.061-05:00

Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son"Abe says, "Man, you must be puttin' me on"God say, "No." Abe say, "What?"God say, "You can do what you want Abe, butThe next time you see me comin' you better run"Bob Dylan Highway 61 Five years ago, one of my best friends, a man we’ll call B, was engaged to be married to the wrong girl. The wedding was set, planned, and we’ll assume partially paid for. B

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-76587654682225093592007-01-31T12:17:00.001-06:002007-01-31T12:18:29.347-06:00

“You take away Kraft out of Altria and you are left with a balance sheet that is extremely strong,” said Charles Norton, portfolio manager at the Vice Fund, a mutual fund that invests in tobacco, gambling, alcohol and military contractors. Altria is the fund’s biggest holding. “It’s just a cash cow. The free cash flow on this business is just tremendous.”from the New York Times, January 31, 2007.

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-20601902269619703192006-12-23T12:29:00.000-06:002006-12-23T12:30:11.804-06:00

so some of you gracious peeps out there have inquired, quite patiently, as to the nature of that which consumed my eager, distracted young mind during the long month du Novembre. This is but a scent, raw, natural, completely adulterated and ripe for the pruning. Such is life, though..... as alwaysmerci pour avoir lire.jobe. Driving home from class, Y’s mind raced. Why can’t I focus. I don’t

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-31680452389645213622006-11-26T10:56:00.000-06:002006-11-26T11:03:16.227-06:00

with five days left for nanowrimo, I'm stuck at 35K words.Go figure.A purported amateur writer doubting his style and God's grace, denying the call, downing alcohol to save face.here's a couple of quotes from the excellent After the Ecstacy the Laundry....it's amazing how human beings don't see that problems we perceive as being complex have simplistic answers....love thy neighbor, do unto

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1163293175538029372006-11-11T18:55:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:33.586-06:00

Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth.Benjamin DisraeliThe truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off.Gloria Steinem

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1162484530353868622006-11-02T10:21:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:32.831-06:00

Since I have now accepted the challenge of NaNoWriMo, I won't be publishing any new material for awhile. I do plan to keep everyone inspired (hopefully) by posting that which inspires me to devote myself to harnessing thoughts from the great ether of a scattered mind....so today's post comes from two masters of their own respective crafts. I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets,

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1162339774739503622006-10-31T18:09:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:32.479-06:00

from Cannery Row:"It has always seemed strange to me," said Doc. "The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism, and self interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first, they love

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1162235041118003882006-10-30T13:03:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:32.178-06:00

"The moment I have realized God sitting in the temple of every human body, the moment I stand in reverence before every human being and see God in him - that moment I am free from bondage, everything that binds vanishes, and I am free.""The Vedanta recognizes no sin it only recognizes error. And the greatest error, says the Vedanta is to say that you are weak, that you are a sinner, a miserable

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1161914056849788462006-10-26T20:53:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:31.866-06:00

Rain pours down from the heavens. A shadow glides across the surface of a red BMW. It's dark and the streets are empty. A young man sits hunched over in the car. Drool drips from his chin and onto a red track suit. The shadow circles two times to assess the situation and disappears. A shockwave of bioelectric impulse kickstarts the young man's system. His eyes open to raindrops marching across

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1161706468491728632006-10-24T11:12:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:31.372-06:00

On how I view the hamster wheel...."In a world of fugitives, those taking the opposite direction will always be said to be running away."T.S. ElliotOn Being and Becoming....."Every particle of the world is a mirror, in each atom lies the blazing light of a thousand suns. Cleave the heart of a rain-drop, a hundred pure oceans will flow forth. Look closely at a grain of sand, the seed of a

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1160751190852153922006-10-13T09:52:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:28.488-06:00

Humans tend to recoil when faced with the disfigured. Injuries twist the gut in a visceral reaction to the unfamiliar. We can put a name to that which we see and leave no sense of uncertainty as to whether another is in pain. Three weeks ago, having seen the physical and psychological impacts of war, I left the local cineplex feeling humbled and impassioned. It was a Friday night and I was

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1160669089805905622006-10-12T11:03:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:28.218-06:00

they sit around all day and talk about money…..money….money, they obsess about money….a false god and yet God’s tool…learn how to manage it…learn how to flip the script…lift the rocks under which they hide their avarice and lies…they kill for money, destroy their bodies and families for money….and yet how else could the world work? Liberation from it, not a slave to it…..enough to live

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1160163576306721382006-10-06T14:37:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:28.026-06:00

also a quick thanks to anonymous for passing along the word of being inspired.....that's what I'm here for. comments are always pondered.word.Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. Edgar Allan Poe

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1160163359009941182006-10-06T14:26:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:27.714-06:00

(friday flash friction)"Extra Extra" shouts the boy in the wool cap. He's holding a paper high in the air. Above the din and scurry of rats racing towards an imaginary chunk of cheese, I hear his voice echo, "extra, extra, read all about it." Louder it grows, distracting me from the cacophony of awkward silence through which I progress. Diligent in my stride, I attempt to stay focused on the task

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1158936611869356372006-09-22T09:49:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:26.853-06:00

I preface these two quotes by saying that upon spiritually ingesting them, I felt a heat burst within. It was earlier this morning actually. Rain poured from the firmament and drenched the Eisenhower expressway. Traffic crawled bumper to bumper. My fellow travellers smoked, smiled, rubbernecked an accident, chatted on cellphones, painted their faces, and inched along with me. In the reflection of

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1158774060894294112006-09-20T12:39:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:26.511-06:00

Holy Hesus Batman, the United States Senate is recognizing AD/HD Awarness day, today, September the 20th 2006. US Senator's Maria Cantwell and Richard Durbin (of my home state), issued Senate Resoultion 544 which designates September 20, 2006 as "National Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder Awareness Day." Amen to such an affirmation that I am not alone in the struggle to conform my

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1158106465834313082006-09-12T19:13:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:26.082-06:00

(this article was inspired by this post in hopes of starting a new dialogue, i've posted it apart from the original. i'd hate to have my thoughts lost in a cacophony of hatred and conjecture.)I'm so proud to live in a country where dopes can preach their passions and rally other dopes behind them. Americans, myself included, never cease to amaze me with our ADD and issue of the day. The war

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1157725822905401402006-09-08T09:26:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:25.734-06:00

In what do you believe?“’Spend eternity searching space, find gas, rock, and black holes. Spend less than a lifetime searching within, find God.’ –who”“’The old adage, ‘she took my breath away,’ is misleading. Women fill men's lungs with God's breath. Any theocracy which teaches differently preaches to a false God.’ –is”“’God exists. Mankind is god’s children: brothers, sisters, fathers and

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1157552327371531022006-09-06T09:17:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:25.477-06:00

I'd like to "introduce" you all to an inspired spirit, Bryan Stupar. A self proclaimed "pretty simple guy….(who also happens to be a pastor, husband, and dad)," in San Luis Obispo, he's "just trying to find ultimate pleasure in God's greatness." Humble in his words and fierce with his camera, his art reveals a man who sees through the illusions and captures the beauty in that which is real:

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1156875123003164942006-08-29T13:10:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:25.185-06:00

Le Mot du Jourinspireinspīrāre to breathe upon or into,Old French enspirerSong du JourJust My Imagination The TemptationsQuote du Jour (2 4)If you want to build a ship, don't drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea.Antoine de Saint-ExuperyAll my life there’s been one little rule that has worked wonderfully for me:

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1156530017436865902006-08-25T13:18:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:24.921-06:00

"When the mind's eye rests on objects illuminated by truth and reality, it understands and comprehends them, and functions intelligently; but when it turns to the twilight world of change and decay, it can only form opinions, its vision is confused and its beliefs shifting, and it seems to lack intelligence." (Plato) "What we need for understanding rational human behaviour - and indeed, animal

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1156254457590814972006-08-22T08:45:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:24.642-06:00

Still trying to uncover who this jobe kid is……Quote’s du jour, a double dose:“Life is always walking up to us and saying, “Come on in, the living’s fine,” and what do we do? Back off and take its picture.” Russell Baker“I would rather have 30 minutes of “wonderful” than a lifetime of nothing special.” Julia RobertsBook du jour:A Wish Can Change Your Life: How to Use the Ancient Wisdom of

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1155651809350263452006-08-15T09:22:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:24.323-06:00

Bill Hicks passed away on Saturday the 26th of February 1994. He was a comic genius who chased his passion and developed the skills to bring that passion into fruition. I dedicate today's quotes to his legacy: cigarettes, booze, sex, drugs, politics, religion, rock & roll, and laughing his ass off all the while.Children are smarter than any of us. Know how I know that? I don't know one child

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1155597788381478002006-08-14T18:22:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:24.073-06:00

Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. Saint AugustineThe beauty myth moves for men as a mirage; its power lies in its ever-receding nature. When the gap is closed, the lover embraces only his own disillusion. Herman Melvillejuxtapose, rearrange, sacrifice, dedicate and discover. this, my friends, is easier said than done. good day 2 you all

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1155058581385914112006-08-08T12:35:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:23.718-06:00

Day 3 of a 40 Day Self Imposed Detox from Hangovers, Peer Pressure, &…….3 thoughts for today…..SpiritualityIt is not because angels are holier than men or devils that makes them angels, but because they do not expect holiness from one another, but from God only.William Blake26 Years Young: aka “If I knew then, how I would have answered my high school ‘guidance counselor,’ instead of ‘make lots of

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1154920297284208572006-08-06T22:08:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:23.496-06:00

tabenergy.com

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1152905399728740042006-07-14T14:28:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:23.110-06:00

Online Fiction Writing Classes, Writing Clubs, Book Clubs, Portable MFA’s in Creative Writing, Writing books on Ipod: It’s me vs. an ancient laptop, a progressively monotonous career, and straight up fear that I’ve nothing to say. I’m on a mission now, attempting to conquer years of floating aimlessly down a river of indecision only to land up in a fat loft, with a well paying job, material

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1150337484034711482006-06-14T21:09:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:22.636-06:00

Anyone who enjoys writing as much as I will dig this site. One is rewarded for speaking their mind with gift certificates, and for the truly dedicated, Cold Hard Cash!check it out.you'll see dual posts, but hey, that's how you gotta roll when your website is one the edge of becoming a lonely soul. jobe.

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1149614995346801192006-06-06T12:24:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:22.325-06:00

It's all in the follow through!

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1149051820965828762006-05-31T00:02:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:21.996-06:00

Fourth of July weekend in 2002, while wandering the landscape of Berkeley California, I finally gave the Beatles a proper listen. In all actuality I had little choice in the matter. My 10 neo-hippie roomates played on 10 separate stereo the local radio station's Beatles marathon: three days of non-stop choons from the mop-tops from across the pond. Always one to shave against the grain, I

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1148956292756470312006-05-29T21:30:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:21.836-06:00

Today is a bittersweet day off of work. Fallen soldiers are being honored by American citizens across the globe while a shadowy war rages on. As I type from the comfort of a secure, air conditioned household, my brethren are sacrificing their lives in the name of a cause to which we do not know the name: Oil, Democracy, Billions in Contracts for Fellow Cronies? I do not know the answer to

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1148494227180729582006-05-24T13:03:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:21.548-06:00

Hellen was a woman who showed the power of the human spirit to overcome disability, challenge convention, and realize happiness and success in the most unfortunate of dispositions. I'm truly inspired by her as I am by myriad other souls who've left literal pieces of themselves for millions to ponder. I believe that God is in meAs the sun is in the colorAnd fragrance of a flower-The light in my

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1148140319820220992006-05-20T10:50:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:21.342-06:00

"Peace is not something you wish for; It's something you make, Something you do, Something you are, And something you give away." Robert Fulghum

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1148090389508888352006-05-19T20:58:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:21.052-06:00

this is one of my favorite shots from my days in SF. I've more than a thousand words to describe this simple image....madness, sadness, inspiration, desperation, triumph, fear, uncertainty, certainly a picture I enjoy sharing with fellow americans.

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1147726050327721242006-05-15T15:46:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:20.591-06:00

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a sucka for movies directed by visionaries that capture powerful tales through the lens of their imagination. One such director is Darren Arnofsky. For those who aren't familiar with this name, he's the guy behind the great, Requiem for a Dream, a film which assaults the senses, nauseates the stomach, and blows the mind.This summer, Darren will be releasing a

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1147491935609351172006-05-12T22:44:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:20.353-06:00

I've only recently begun acquire a taste for Shakespeare. His prose was too dense and archaic for my wandering adolescent mind. Instead, I chose to focus on integrals and periodic tables. I chose the weathered path and trust me, it has made all the difference. While I sit at home, alone, surfing the net on a cold and rainy night, my peers are off giving precedence to sin, debauchery, and

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1147367873106159332006-05-11T12:17:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:19.886-06:00

"She's not answering her phone, something must be wrong, this isn't like her, there's definitely something wrong, please, Lynn, answer your phone, I'm sorry, I know I've wronged you, please just tell me you're alive, please;.baby, PLEASE!"J.C.'s mind was racing, imagining a thousand scenarios by which Lynn's evening had come to pass. One might say that harsh words had been exchanged the night

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1147283962272192132006-05-10T12:46:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:19.231-06:00

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1147131117121366152006-05-08T18:30:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:18.909-06:00

.> kewl!> so - since you pose the question as your userid - who is jobe anyways?jobe is a work in motion, he's everyone and no one, he exists, has existed, and will exist again...hopefully he will evolve as I release a deluge of creative rain through the tips of my fingers or the ball point of a blue pen. I might even begin to post hints and clues...who knows, I need some direction to this

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1147098234139339802006-05-08T09:22:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:18.584-06:00

I recently reposted my wishing blog on a separate site in an attempt to receive feedback from work within the archives of this humble nook of nonsense. People dug it, not necessarily for the writing (which needed tightening up), but for the idea of starting a wishing revolution. Wishing may be futile, but a collection of wishes from like-minded intelligent individuals can spark a dialogue, show

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1146805909291214732006-05-05T00:07:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:18.051-06:00

Over four months ago I was diagnosed with A(ttention).D(eficit).D(isorder). This was hardly news to my friends and coworkers; they'd dealt with me for long enough to know that I was perpetually dazed and amused by Jobe's world. I'd ask questions and not wait for the answers, return phone calls two days too late, and fire off myriad distracting emails chock full of nonsense. I was the kid who

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1145557384160222772006-04-20T13:18:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:17.829-06:00

Today, like many others, has been another work day full of absolute boredom. Yes, I was surfing the web, like millions of worker bees around the world; contributing to the "XX" hours of lost productivity and "XX" in lost revenue, searching for anything to provide perspective on how absurd this American life can sometimes be. The Drudge Report came through, yet again, this time with the headline

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1145397913821163172006-04-18T17:04:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:17.566-06:00

(This is fifteen minutes of freewriting)There’s a single moment just before I nod off into dreamspace where reality begins to merge with subconscious abstractions and I can hardly tell whether or not I’m dreaming.It’s a bit surreal, eyes closing inasmuch as I attempt to will them open, vision blurring, reality disappearing, no longer a part of the machine, merely a soul withdrawing, shutting down

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1144081647457052572006-04-03T11:26:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:16.784-06:00

zen:aka chill the fcuk out volume dos you'll need itunes on the comp from which you're clicking the above link.peace peeps: here's to a solid week.jobe."What is defeat? Nothing but education, nothing but the first step towards something better."Wendell Phillips

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1143820817234112132006-03-31T09:59:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:16.543-06:00

You'll have to forgive me my ignorance on the topic of Reality Television as I just don't have time to keep up on the fad that never seems to stop sweeping the nation, gluing eager Americans to their couches, bombarding them with Febreeze commercials and throw away drama. Last night, though, while changing after a five mile run, I was able to catch a glance of the once great Survivor. I say once

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1143562528542089742006-03-28T10:15:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:16.318-06:00

The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty, and all forms of human life. John F. Kennedy

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1143480625104556102006-03-27T11:28:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:16.159-06:00

A pungent gust of exhaust filled his lungs as the bus drove off around the Embarcadero and out of sight. He was home, alone, two miles from his apartment, ten thousand miles from his former self. Or maybe he never understood his former self well enough to have measured the distance between then and now. Labor Day was coming to a close as the sun began its decent towards the other side of the

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1143363991662786952006-03-26T03:06:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:15.842-06:00

whoRU?let me see....I could put half naked pictures of me flexing, letting all those sexy minxes out there know that I'm a virile young mang that, more often than not, takes care of my body... or I could talk about the fact that I'm well read, an amateur "freelance" writer, an observer of life and a survivor of strife. an engineer. a daydreamer. a helpless romantic. a part time DJ of P.D.B.'s (

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1141931517739359702006-03-09T13:10:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:15.582-06:00

I've become a bit of an NPR junkie as of late, late being the past two years. I'm not sure if this signifies that I'm becoming boring for having zero to little interest in the distractions enjoyed by my peers: the jovial antics of Eric & Kathy, the repetetive crude shockuality of Stern, or the bloviating pompous ass Mancow Muller and his army of ignorant, brainwashed ninjas. I do know that I've

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1137785124853439722006-03-03T20:56:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:14.819-06:00

I finished watching "No Direction Home", Martin Scorcese's Bio-Pic of the great Bob Dylan, the other night. The cats and I were immersed in a time and place not so distant from that in which my brethren find themselves today, although today our collective voice is either non-existent or in the hands of Cindy Sheehan. I'd read Chronicles, Bob's autobiography, but being a young man whose

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1141318149258669942006-03-02T10:47:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:15.359-06:00

Amplified might be a good word to describe my mental state at this moment: synapses firing on all eight cylinders as turbo kicks in. Too bad my job confines me to a seat, a computer and 100's of acres to design and develop, a job fit not necessarily for a monkey, moreso a recluse who thrives off of the rote yet meticulous tasks required day in and day out. I'm focused and yet paradoxically driven

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1140202766932955432006-02-17T12:58:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:15.057-06:00

I have absolutely no choice really, in fighting the bureaucracy, Daley's Dynasty, the corrupt conglomerate of payoffs and buddy systems. It's my city, not necessarily through birth, rather through acclimation, and inasmuch as I tried to run for five years, chasing pipe dreams to Los Angeles and San Francisco, I'm back and in a "good place" in my life. For all intents and purposes, things are

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1137690417082332152006-01-19T11:06:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:14.457-06:00

they ask me why i'm single why i must be gay they ask me who I'm looking for...the perfect girl, cause she doesn't exist they get all up in my business, bothering me, questioning my tactics and motives...whaddya mean you only drink two days a week, that's pure insanity....they ask me myriad stupid questions to which I can give no reply except a sly shrug of the shoulders. i know

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1137180503033003192006-01-13T13:27:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:14.018-06:00

I awake, bathed in sweat, convinced that I'm still dreaming, aware yet longing for the truth to unfold. I walk to my bathroom and turn on the faucet. My hands form a cup as I lower them to the basin full of water. An eerie sensation overcomes me, causing my skin to crawl as frigid soul refreshing baptismal liquid slides down the surface of my face. Each moment feels real enough to believe

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1136481649256799932006-01-05T11:20:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:13.777-06:00

Today has been the longest day of this first week back after winter break. I’ve been at work for 2 hours and have dreaded every single moment since I arrived. There’s a high school intern here today, an attractive brunette about 5’-5”, taught physique not yet corrupted by the freshman fifteen. For the next two weeks she’ll observe and attempt introductory tasks to provide her an idea of what

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1136325623939139922006-01-03T15:59:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:13.557-06:00

I ask myself day in and day out whether or not I should be doing what I’m doing…engineering, designing storm sewers and ponds for a living and enjoying said living. I struggle with the question of whether or not I should remain in this company, enjoying a slightly better salary than a civil engineer of a similar age in a similar company. The benefits are a little less than good. The vacation

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1135699542960522462005-12-27T10:03:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:13.324-06:00

I want to tell him that she’s not the answer. He was rejected again, passed the letter on to all of us to read, the “disgruntled 20 something engineers” group of six who ridicule and joke and bitch and complain all day in an attempt to create drama, something interesting and alive. And he’s sad, again, and letting us know. He placed all his eggs of love unparalleled in her basket of friendship

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1134787129277448432005-12-16T20:38:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:13.172-06:00

solace? or lyrical vomit? Current mood: exanimate Category: Life My boss walks away, shaking his head in displeasure as he's "caught" me, yet again, daydreaming, dragging my heels and coming up short on

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1134573682891825232005-12-14T09:20:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:12.923-06:00

weightless, restless, and smitten. Current mood: bouncy Category: Life“There is no floor…..there is no floor…there is no floor……,” he repeated to himself fifteen times in a mental whisper, an attempt to center his focus from the myriad shooting stars soaring in the expanse of an otherwise unstable mind. Of course the trick was to focus on nothing, to be nothing and yet everything at once, to

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1134184919934166882005-12-09T21:21:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:12.664-06:00

Current mood: working Category: Life The song rises to an operatic climax as Andre Bocelli's voice reaches loud emotionally stimulating proportions. The song ends with the camera remaining high above and to the southwest of the golden gate bridge as the car joins other cars

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1134162545273095942005-12-09T15:08:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:12.504-06:00

I’ve checked my email about 15 times today. I wonder if this means I’m lonely, bored, in desperate need of communication and another distraction, frustrated with the security blanket of nine 2 five, suffering from some sever attention deficit disorder, lazy, hungover, or crazy. Maybe I’m a bit of all of the above? Ritalin makes me too wacky and angry. Calm is the state in which solace and

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1133498594031017652005-12-01T22:42:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:12.252-06:00

So two weeks ago, Saturday, found me wandering aimlessly the streets of Chicago, alone, desperately in search of something random and exciting to cross my path, something out of Hollywood, a serendipitous bolt of lightning to strike, or a delicious art-babe to suddenly be in peril and need assistance from a strapping young pseudo-artist once intellectual (ante-weed) mang like myself. And I

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1133452354820121342005-12-01T09:52:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:12.001-06:00

Traffic was a fcuking bitch today…..fifteen extra minutes of waiting, being bombarded by that incessant beep emanating from the dash, instructing me that the A4 has a broken tail light that can't be fixed by the layman and a trip to Pep-Boys.And my blood was literally boiling out of my body, evaporating through the skin and heating the confines of the comfortably expensive car……and for what, two

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1131983072460398542005-11-14T09:42:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:11.744-06:00

In times of gut wrenching emotional turmoil in my life, my mom and I traded inspirational quotes of the day….thoughts which resonated in our minds for mere seconds. Sometimes we’d discuss the day’s inspiration over the course of a few emails, promising to remember and apply it over the arduous hours, days, and weeks to come. Realistically, such a task becomes difficult in a society bombarded by

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1131467808235490012005-11-08T10:35:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:11.488-06:00

So in the archives of this humble blog, an enthusiastic reader may find a little piece entitled “I am not a religious man.” The truth of this statement is that, I, in fact, am not a religious man. I am a spiritual being. I was never baptized, nor was I raised with any religious doctrine. I was left to wander throughout life as an observer, critiquing and discovering many paths towards

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1131036438475767832005-11-03T10:45:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:11.260-06:00

jaques lu cont produced a tight remix of The Killer's Mr. Brightsidewhich I'm listening to right this second....or this one.......the bass is thumping, speakers pumping and probably waking the fcuking pain in the ass neighbor...and I'm on the third play....choking on your alibi's......this shite is fo real, nevermind that this song was played out like two months ago, I'm a sucker for a cold drink

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1130958765185609762005-11-02T13:12:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:10.970-06:00

I have this incessant need to runaway, in an attempt to fix problems which may or may not exist. I want to run, as fast I can, anywhere but here, anywhere but the certainty of monotony. And yet the paradox of the my strife is that it could in fact all be a giant subconscious lie, a trick forged deep in the chasms of a fragile mind years ago when I was clutched from my mothers arms by a jealous

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1130859517594543582005-11-01T09:36:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:10.681-06:00

Back on the edge of absolute insanity, yet controlled, able to reach down and grab a bag, twist a cap and pour a little peach pill into my hand. Damn caffeine, strong as motor oil this morning, take the paint right off your car. And I want to be in touch with all my friends at once, a giant orgy rated pg, clothes on, just jubilant jovial times, unwinding, not stuck like a rat in cage, despite

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1130780768302534482005-10-31T11:44:00.000-06:002006-11-11T19:02:10.406-06:00

they're out there. here. all around me.fellow students and truth seekers burning with adesire to realize their dreams,to shape the imaginations of those who pause and ponderthe inspiredpainters, poets and photographersmusicians, singer-songwriters,cool hip kitty kats setting trends through self expressionthriving amongst their own kindthe air is super saturated, dense with creative energywhat are

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1130423495493411972005-10-27T09:29:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:10.152-06:00

Flourescent light agitates an otherwise agile mind as I sit here, hung over from a night of too much drinking, a Tuesday, mind you, I’m not focused, unsure, and repeating the exact same mistakes over and over and over again. I want growth but I want many things. I want peace and yet I’m not willing to fight for it. I want sanity but then sanity is quite boring, monotonous, the mainland. I am

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1129829362113751032005-10-20T12:28:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:06.716-06:00

What does one type when they cant seem to get into character? Is their a certain direction that I should be following when I hardly remember my name but am too wired to actually fall asleep. It's Sunday night and it's late. Only 23 minutes separate now from a mere seven hours of sleep. Not that this will be restful, post coital bliss nirvana sleep, nor will I doze off to a never never land,

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1129167636855712392005-10-12T20:38:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:06.386-06:00

Still. Still calm and raging with desire. Still trying to shred long lost layers, tossing nightmares and fears into the proverbial fire. Escaping for once, not by running away, rather facing the demons within, a product of some supposed original sin. This dominion, this world, this excuse for a chance at redemption Redeem me from a persistent state of madness and self inflicted aggression,

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1128957374985356232005-10-10T10:15:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:06.093-06:00

One simply complex obstacle blocks me from the man I used to be.Addiction.Everything I never wanted to be denied through a continual refusal to follow throughTo chase beliefsI see the path and I’m fcuking scaredAfraidFearing fear itself.And it really isn’t there. Non-existent.I’m completely stuck in my own head all the timeI work and am too addicted to work morefocused on growing and living

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1128615164425458902005-10-06T11:11:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:05.680-06:00

When asked:so what is it that draws people toward something they can't perceive? like religion, your soul, ideologies, philosophy, god.... you get the picture. just your personal thought on the subject. :)I responded.epiphanypainperpetual fearwonderhopetraditiona wisha dreama near death experiencea divine intervention - saul blinded, reborn as Paul a revelationa good book (east of eden)a mentor..

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1128574654794468502005-10-05T23:56:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:05.350-06:00

I wrote this little bit of nothing sometime earlier this summer as an expression of my mentality at the ripe young age of 25, alive and subdued by happy pills, meds which act as a kind of windex, cleaning the residue, clearing the haze of the days of an explosive adolescence. It’s Monday again. I’d love to write about how Mondays choke on a fat d, but I did that last week. I could complain

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1128390773902586332005-10-03T20:51:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:04.766-06:00

I inhale….my vision is enhanced, mind’s eye lost in a moment of drug induced bliss….I cough, my lungs choke on fumes….a bird flies above the crests of stainless steel monuments, statements of an industrial revolution….i’m high, three floors up, off the ground, peering into a reflection of America’s superiority, to a sky of oranges and blues, stark white concrete facades and phallic spires…..

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1128093070280905122005-09-30T10:05:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:04.520-06:00

the following blog is for the eyes and ears ofmature freaks and geeks, who won’t judge yetunderstand that I’m tiny and meek, unsure of my style,an engineer, not a writer since, well, it’s been quiteawhile.....what this country is lacking is a fcuking revolution,the underclass, the silent, unnoticed majority ofAmerica’s mankindspeaking out to bring about changeto rearrange the way which rich white

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1127750829488842162005-09-26T11:06:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:04.304-06:00

Holy shit do I have a serious case of the Mondays. The dreaded, back to work, hopefully you’re not still hungover from the weekend, time to wake up, respond to calls, focus, pretend to be interested, make the man money, fight traffic and sleepy eyes, rinse wash and repeat Mondays. Bob Dylan is jamming on my speakers now, my head is pounding, begging me to depart work early and hide back

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1127226056847795052005-09-20T09:18:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:04.046-06:00

Write for the sake of self expression, to escape this fucking prison that is depression….This is fucking stupidI have nothing to say, I’m over medicated, my room is clean, I’m lost….on planet earth. I’m awake and lost. I’m lazy.I’m thisI’m that.I’m not good at writing.I work for a living, but I don’t focus on working towards escaping from having to be bogged down by monotonous calculations,

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1126845616998312892005-09-15T23:29:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:03.799-06:00

comforting words you hear. She died tragically, less than four weeks after acheiving her goal of procuring a degree in teaching. She was so young. She was a drinker and far from innocent, yet 75 percent of my generation

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1126669811860583812005-09-13T22:49:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:03.571-06:00

"because of the wonderful things she does," "Of course I don’t want life to be this way, steph!"He tried in one final futile attempt to reconcile a love lost years before. Some would advise him to move on, but they didn't understand. She was his demise and his salvation. She was the reason he stayed on this side of the bridge, most likely the only reason. Looking back, it was so easy for him to

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1126536767811915232005-09-12T09:52:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:03.351-06:00

i feel as if a dame is about to walk through my door, asking for a lighter, it's about 10 at night on a mild September Chicago evening. She's wants to talk, business......miles davis' trumpet sets the mood for this film noiresque scene....the audience sensing the sexual tension between she and I, private eye, sipping a bourbon, contemplating the murder of her husband, a former CEO of a major

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1126068541132949882005-09-06T23:48:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:03.095-06:00

dreams are such amazingly complicated facets of our being, whether waking or those caught by indian dream catchers. such depth of who we are as beings (or souls being hosted by flesh and blood) can be revealed: our longings and desires, our subconcious fears, past and future lives (am I being literal). it's trite to describe hapiness and sucess as the byproduct of a tenacious grasp on that

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1125545603098849472005-08-31T22:32:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:02.886-06:00

Current mood: highit's about fcuking time I post another bloganother log into my twisted mindtwisted rhymesanother chance at romanceanother chance to unleash,releaseandunwindlustand lovewhat heaven on earthand dreams are made ofand of course I divergebegging, pleadingon the brink of the vergehoping while choosing a future synonomouswithyoursmineone more linesurreptitious acts of original

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1125324947436672502005-08-29T09:15:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:02.618-06:00

and another beer goes down the hatch, numbing the fact that tomorrow will come whether I like it or not, whether I'm smoked enough weed and simply forgot that I've responsibilites, people calling my name, leaving messages and red flashing lights, 20 grand invested, thriving corporate lifelittle more than a game...of politics and power struggles, of crushing the little guy, depending on the

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124981983873691352005-08-25T09:58:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:02.451-06:00

i smell like a french whore....booze, cigarettes, and sex emmanate from my clothing....my pores wreak of sexy perfume and yet I'm alone. Scores was the setting for the decadence and debauchery of tonight's festivities, a night of fun amongst four friends: Scott, Kevin, Andy and I. Andy had broken up with his girl, young fun, and the goal was to take his mind off her. Young fun is an 18 year

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124828479644735642005-08-23T15:21:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:02.267-06:00

A letter which i'll send to no one. I don't fucking understand how they do it? The ants, the worker bees, the drones that focus their minds on monotonous tasks day in and day out, week after week, month after month, year after year, looking forward to a paycheck and a few free hours on the weekend that they're not spending in traffic or responding to requests with efficiency and swiftness. "

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124500943455212362005-08-19T20:20:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:02.019-06:00

a friend in needDid I tell you that I freaked out on him this past weekend? Itwas horrible. I was yelling and crying and told him that I wanted himout of my life.a jobe in deed.Stuff happens...people get overburdened, say things they don't mean whilst being mean and allowing pent up emotion to escape...and then the kettle cools and the water no longer boils in raging confusion of molecules

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124494401286480222005-08-19T18:30:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:01.742-06:00

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124479893475211302005-08-19T14:31:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:01.475-06:00

I’ve been numb for 5 years and yet I’ve allowed distraction to penetrate my vision of my very own futureA pane of glass that could shatter into a million indistinguishable shards of mental terror in an instant, destroyed.And yet I’ll continue to write about nothingAnd do nothingAnd grow littleAnd fear and hurt and love every second of it because as inevitable as change may be, change is too

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124289386066917952005-08-17T09:33:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:01.312-06:00

Write while the heat is in you.... The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with. He cannot inflame the minds of his audience.Henry David ThoreauTo burn always with this hard, gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life.Walter Pater

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124203814961925902005-08-16T09:46:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:01.089-06:00

I'm taking the easy route out again....partially because I'm busy and not truly moved to write anything of substance and partially because I know no one is reading this, other than I. But if other eyes do fall upon this site from time to time, maybe they'll be moved by the quotes of great minds, as I am, in my search for truth and understanding.If you wish to know the Divine, feel the wind on

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124117943462249622005-08-15T09:58:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:00.838-06:00

Picasso was right when he said that we do not know what a tree or a window really is. All things are very mysterious and strange (like Picasso’s paintings), and we overlook their strangeness and their mystery only because we are so used to them. Only dimly do we understand the nature of things. What are things? They are God’s love become things.God also communicates with us by way of all things.

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1124061737355588072005-08-14T18:20:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:00.601-06:00

i must let go of that which I fear the mostmy past, present and future realigningin the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghostwhoisjob?

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1123858011873703592005-08-12T09:40:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:00.370-06:00

corporate advertising continues to corrupt young mindshot coffee spills, careless thrills, the time of your life for a dollar 99subliminally overt, progressively perverse half naked nymph's marketingsociety's desperate needs needing a break to brake, cleanse and unwind.

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1123776610443281982005-08-11T11:09:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:02:00.058-06:00

No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear. ATTRIBUTION: Edmund Burke (1729–1797), Irish philosopher, statesman. The Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, pt. 2, ch. 2 (1756).

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1123556005959376762005-08-10T13:20:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:01:59.593-06:00

"The code says, 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife'- and the result? Reluctant chastity, adultery, jealousy, bitter family fights, blows and sometimes murder, broken homes and twisted children...and furtive, dirty little passes at country club dances and the like, degrading both man and woman whether consummated or not."Robert A. HeinlanStranger in a Strange Land

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1123646465764473722005-08-09T22:54:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:01:59.855-06:00

I don’t careAbout writingWhether or not it is my callingI’m avoiding every ounce of sweat and work That could resuscitate me from wallowing in despairFrom repeating myself over and over Passing through the dayzProgress a verb that long lay dormant in a diminishing vocabularyOne that’s not been stoked by the fires of inspiration for all too longAs all to long I long for answers which are directly

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12861120.post-1123555890706392962005-08-08T21:44:00.000-05:002006-11-11T19:01:59.414-06:00

pg411"Let me tell you something out of the lessons for the Sixth, Ben. We humans have something that my former people don't even dream of. They can't. And I can tell you how precious it is, how especially precious I know it to be because I have known what it is not to have it. The blessing of being Male and Female. Man and Woman created He them. The greatest treasure We Who Are God ever

whoisjobehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04253891433249696718noreply@blogger.com1