<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566</id><updated>2012-01-13T11:35:57.018-06:00</updated><category term='Eye of Chaos'/><category term='school, work, poetry, symbolism, All things, universe, omniverse'/><category term='french fairytale'/><category term='matter'/><category term='Phil turns'/><category term='reality'/><category term='rock'/><category term='bliss'/><category term='the humours'/><category term='destruction'/><category term='memory'/><category term='Omniverse'/><category term='museum'/><category term='Fear'/><category term='finality'/><category term='Adzev'/><category term='Earth'/><category term='&quot;The Clock of All things&quot;'/><category term='short story'/><category term='Rhythm'/><category term='the nameless one'/><category term='Love'/><category term='school assignment'/><category term='All things&apos; Omniverse'/><category term='Pain'/><category term='All things'/><category term='human'/><title type='text'>XxJamberxX---My life</title><subtitle type='html'>This little Blog, Is how I got started on blogspot.com.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-8798867355370302862</id><published>2011-09-25T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T10:08:19.410-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;The Clock of All things&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the nameless one'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memory'/><title type='text'>The Measure (Part two)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.robertsdigital.info/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/9189995-galaxy-mind2-300x3001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.robertsdigital.info/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/9189995-galaxy-mind2-300x3001.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Is within and without knowledge all there is to know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Something having saved herself from doom with self-awareness some more, must once more persist against the odds.&amp;nbsp; It is that she must be herself and further still through beyond dimensions.&amp;nbsp; The subsequent dimension is the matrix for all the beyond and all the preliminary antecedents. That dimension would become to be known as Time.&amp;nbsp; This dimension is quintessential to the happening of reality thus it requires measurement in order to construe an equation.&amp;nbsp; 'Twas 'till now that Something measured herself as a point and 'tis now that she measures as a line, a point through time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;What is time to be measured as?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Days divided into numbers.&amp;nbsp;Eternity made simplified.&amp;nbsp; Time is known asa measurement, a technology and a tool.&amp;nbsp;It is a distortion of reality so that we understand the sum of theparts.&amp;nbsp; If such a thing could ever be complete what it may be in further time.&amp;nbsp; Measurements are models for reality, not exact.&amp;nbsp; They can be scaled and distorted.&amp;nbsp; The process of such is a repercussion of limp limbs, where distortion usurps the quality of actual reality.&amp;nbsp; As a consequence information is lost the further from the origin that it is translated.&amp;nbsp; Any information that takes homage in a particular dimension is in need of another measurement or surface to persist in the rest, or if they are to be translated to a dimension beneath then the information that cannot be shown is represented through taught understanding and accepted meaning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;What becomes of the shape of identity when information is added?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;When a thing travels through the dimensions and it is without the necessary measurement for that dimension it gains a new face for its shape of identity.&amp;nbsp; Because of its new face it is not known the same as it was in its origin dimension.&amp;nbsp; A cube on a 2D medium will loose its volume and depth but gain a face of its representation when it is distorted into 2D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;How does Something measure the shape of identity in time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sciencephoto.com/image/308333/530wm/P4200305-Colour_vision_spectrum_of_light_entering_the_eye-SPL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="242" src="http://www.sciencephoto.com/image/308333/530wm/P4200305-Colour_vision_spectrum_of_light_entering_the_eye-SPL.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;The Light Bender casts light on reality to see what it may be, light from all across the spectrum.&amp;nbsp; What is reflected she in spite of judgment accepts what she sees as her perception.&amp;nbsp; All things does not go within judgement but without.&amp;nbsp; From the without realm, where she operates through without bias, she casts her light like judgement to a fixture which service as a given.&amp;nbsp; From the without realm she can know further still without being within limitations the without is narrowed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;What is known by this measurement?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;What is known is the extent to which the farthest the measure is stretch to encompass reality and its opposite.&amp;nbsp; Like a point the Measure is the center of All things to encompass but further still the measure narrows its direction to stretch the limb farthest in that path achieving from that direction and its absolute sister pole.&amp;nbsp; Anything will be the given eventually from there All things will be known.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://tourinord.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/across-the-universe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="325" src="http://tourinord.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/across-the-universe.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-8798867355370302862?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/8798867355370302862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=8798867355370302862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8798867355370302862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8798867355370302862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2011/09/measure-part-two.html' title='The Measure (Part two)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-1780789258154964033</id><published>2011-07-10T13:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T13:15:09.607-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things&apos; Omniverse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bliss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short story'/><title type='text'>Memory</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aqWurzZ7jWY/ThnsH-kavNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/JzvOtLygiFk/s1600/b27j724l5x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 175px; height: 111px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aqWurzZ7jWY/ThnsH-kavNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/JzvOtLygiFk/s200/b27j724l5x.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627788831175130322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;December 2, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Jalia Hubbard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our hold upon the world is a loose one.  Memory ought to be rejuvenated to its fresh state.  Our hold ought to be accepted to be studied.  All weaves of the mind must be connected.  The fray that looms upon the edges of our reality threaten to unravel our fabrication of understanding for inane vanity.  For every string lost the hold as a whole is loosened.  A string is a line and a line as a point, being a measure of our focus.  The blanket as bundled focus made of string as it is to a line as it to a point.  That bundle is a concept as is reality, a single concept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should comprehensive concepts be worded?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our blanket covers all the features of reality including itself.  A blanket that can wrap in around itself and discover itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-1780789258154964033?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/1780789258154964033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=1780789258154964033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/1780789258154964033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/1780789258154964033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2011/07/memory.html' title='Memory'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aqWurzZ7jWY/ThnsH-kavNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/JzvOtLygiFk/s72-c/b27j724l5x.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-7867092986534173275</id><published>2011-06-06T12:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T17:09:18.048-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school, work, poetry, symbolism, All things, universe, omniverse'/><title type='text'>Poetry I wrote during Sophomore Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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  &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"&gt;   &lt;w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-priority:99;  mso-style-qformat:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin-top:0in;  mso-para-margin-right:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;  mso-para-margin-left:0in;  line-height:115%;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:11.0pt;  font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";  mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;  mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;  mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;  mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;  mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="text-align: right; font-family:arial;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jalia Hubbard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="text-align: right; font-family:arial;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jan 5, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;The Missed Eclipse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;That which has brought havoc&lt;a style="mso-footnote-id:ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=2825218908260582566#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and death upon humankind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Has this December night provoked conditional pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;While waiting there was within&lt;a style="mso-footnote-id:ftn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=2825218908260582566#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the cosmos, a curious young mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Whose hopes and wishes dashed from its self-imposed strain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The snow, when known individually as the snow flake,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Is a humble living-dying thing, gone from the warmth of breathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;However collectively, behold the havoc it will make&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This December night it was a hope that braced death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“There would be no eclipse in the sky,” the snowstorm willed&lt;a style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=2825218908260582566#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Our moon to be shadowed for once by our own presence,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Was the hopes dashed by the snowflake unfulfilled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Lost to the possibilities was this forbidden event’s essence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The curious young mind will go with knowing but however&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;She will keep the knowing, it was to happen; this lasts forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="MsoNoSpacing" face="arial"&gt;April 14, 2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Blank Mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Blank mind haunting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;my brilliance it is taunting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I had a great joy but now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It escaped my focus somehow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So I am left with this blank mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The stream of thought I lost, I cannot find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The blankness is bleak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;My pride corrupted to meek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Blank mind haunting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my brilliance it is taunting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-7867092986534173275?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/7867092986534173275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=7867092986534173275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/7867092986534173275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/7867092986534173275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2011/06/poetry-i-wrote-during-sophomore-year.html' title='Poetry I wrote during Sophomore Year'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3387442783436259410</id><published>2010-12-28T23:52:00.014-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T19:52:00.105-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the nameless one'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='destruction'/><title type='text'>The Measure (Part One)</title><content type='html'>What means are used to know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGLuaBBMZnk/Tita3CQru9I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/F9Tic4qzKCY/s1600/Mechanized_Microcosm_by_WyrdWolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGLuaBBMZnk/Tita3CQru9I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/F9Tic4qzKCY/s200/Mechanized_Microcosm_by_WyrdWolf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632695660503088082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was as there has been in Rhythm, a measure within All things.  This measure is referred to as The Measure.  For it is that The Measure, connotes to the self imposing all that it seems upon All things.  This is the self's way to decipher the message Rhythm dances.  Something was the first to use this measure.  It was when she was solely the nameless one.  Knowing herself came with only a measurement, her own.  In seeing she saw only herself, in feeling she felt only herself, and in sound and in all.  With all her mind's capacity focused on the fathoming that she knew her external self, she knew nothing of herself even if was only herself she had ever sensed.  Measured amongst All things, she knew not a thing yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it to bring the nameless one to knowing herself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0dVBbnNfX9U/Titq6zw6YzI/AAAAAAAAAOg/lXxC6S4YLm4/s1600/psygu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0dVBbnNfX9U/Titq6zw6YzI/AAAAAAAAAOg/lXxC6S4YLm4/s200/psygu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632713317517255474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she was with her "family", All things, Nothing, and Everything, she go to her place to see all her nonentities.  She'd play within, she'd learn without, and she'd be.  When it was that the nameless one grew to be Something, knowing herself so, she come once more to her family.  To her family she would see herself, feel, hear and so.  But in this event it was that she saw what was for once.  In them she saw herself and rightfully so.  They are her, derived from an older source as her, more of her than she could immediately fathom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was it that she saw?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qNRAp0Ea9Pg/Titq7a4cyBI/AAAAAAAAAOo/3UyFC7JUbG8/s1600/shadow_girl_wallpaper__mirror__by_9cymon-d39kdar.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qNRAp0Ea9Pg/Titq7a4cyBI/AAAAAAAAAOo/3UyFC7JUbG8/s200/shadow_girl_wallpaper__mirror__by_9cymon-d39kdar.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632713328017852434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was, was her limit; what is, is her measure.  For having gone throughout All things, for having learned Everything then Nothing, then Rhythm, she had grown with unmeasured proportion.  After her learning she does return, thence she has the capacity to know.  She is able to know that her "family" is her limit.  They were the limit of her influence, she could do no more to them than as to change herself.  They were a symbol her own destruction of her own being.  As she was to have an effect upon her environment all but one feature, her family.  And it is held true that it cannot be that the ones more advanced than ourselves would be able to be influenced by that which comes from the same source.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is then to be come of her false being?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She reacts as she would to Nothing, a glimpse of self-doom.  Fear and anger, regret and blame, all things repulsive, expressing her reaction gone wrong.  As Rhythm does she would try to distance herself away from her offense.  She would try to escape, but fatefully encounter them everywhere she could go.  She has seen her flaw, her vestige of her umbilical cord.  Even though the present connection had faded, its impression persists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What ought she to do to escape this doom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the repercussion of self-awareness.  The structure is waiting to collapse only needing stimulus, which awareness connotes.  If she is to complete All things there mustn't be this sort of doom, or it is the death of All things.  This has only been because it was solved and it has been passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What of The Measure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MxIAq_O4Ws4/Titq6iRa-lI/AAAAAAAAAOY/bj2vlibi0ag/s1600/TheLightWithin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 188px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MxIAq_O4Ws4/Titq6iRa-lI/AAAAAAAAAOY/bj2vlibi0ag/s200/TheLightWithin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632713312821770834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is here that The Measure gains its meaning.  It is within her structure to persist, as life does.  Only more self-awareness would cure such an ill.  With hindsight, it was that there was never anything wrong at all.  She had not seen all of herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What of the ending?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would return as that what has made herself would destroy herself if it would not continue to be herself.  And from there in all ways always cause the revulsion it has for the nameless one and Something alike.  It was that she was so encompassing that she would pertain the potential to destroy herself.  As in all her reactions there was the potential to destroy herself, past, present, and future.  Those reactions are symptoms of her evolving self into a being past the ability to destroy itself and know itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3387442783436259410?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3387442783436259410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3387442783436259410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3387442783436259410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3387442783436259410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/12/measure-part-one.html' title='The Measure (Part One)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGLuaBBMZnk/Tita3CQru9I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/F9Tic4qzKCY/s72-c/Mechanized_Microcosm_by_WyrdWolf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-617435452967306177</id><published>2010-11-05T17:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T17:09:32.572-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rock'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='museum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human'/><title type='text'>I Finally Matter (Part Finality)</title><content type='html'>I feel the stems of this brush of delicate artifacts upon me. Much time do they spend brushing me all around. The hands pick me up and brush my back. The voices fade; they place me around a hook, within a box of light. Intricate metal pieces click. Then they turn the box upwards so that I hang from the hooks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They place this box of light into another box of sealed lightlessness. I hear the beating of metal which reminded me of when the old girl had sharpened me many ages ago. Though it was not me being sharpened, for a tedious time I saw and heard Nothing. Nothing spoke about nothing. Nothing vanished; the other box of sealed lightlessness was unsealed. As I heard the sound of cracking wood and felt the light of sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voices came near, the sound of labor and cracking, sealing and sharpening, the sound of work.&lt;br /&gt;Nadir spoke, “What a fine exhibit, that necklace as a great find indeed!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We found skeletons in a burial near the site. A woman’s skeleton was best preserved. Do you think it would be better to add the necklace upon it?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could this be the old girl? Are we finally to be reunited? But what if it isn’t her? I do not want to end up upon the neck of another. But if it is? Oh I am so confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No it would best be put upon the wall. We already have the wall set up for the necklace itself. But we could make an imitation for the skeleton of the old woman.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sounds like a sound plan, Sir,” said Nadir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old woman, oh no what have I wished for! Damn my confusion, my doubt must have cursed me away from my love. I know this must have been her. Nothing help me please. I don’t think I can stand this pain of love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where is Nothing; he has not come? Am I alone with myself? The people place me on to this wall and the lights flicker off. The sunlight not soon after crept into my box where I hanged. The sound of work resumed. Though after half in that daylight, the sound of work moved away into the hall from which I traveled through to here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was alone again, unfamiliar voices passed me by. The sunlight moved on. It was darkness around. I sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So you’ve finally made it,” said Nothing as he appeared out of the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at last you’re here! Now tell me how to leave this agonizing world for a last time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t let you leave. I have no power over that. I don’t know what to tell you to relieve your agony. Only you can tell me how to help you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did. Relieve me of this world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t worry it’s almost over-”said Nothing as he vanished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun crept in; many voices passed me with awe and amazement. I could hear shrill voices questioning, mature voices preaching, and many others conversing in my honor. It was odd to be on the minds of many people who came every moment of the light, each time with different voices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened for a great many years. At times there were no people. Time flew till I reached a vast celebration. I could hear the people open bottles of high concentration. The cheering of many roared and the sound of loud cracks in the sky; I hear these cracks every year but this was the greatest I’ve ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The exhibit has been going well but maybe it’s time we’ve made room for new?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“True it has been some dozen years since Nadir discovered it at the excavation.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s the new millennium! It’s time we’ve attracted a new generation of vistors!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where will we put the exhibit?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“In storage of course or at least till someone wants to buy it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Storage, Millennium, me? Are they to send me away again into a lightless place? Even farther from my love. Something seems to have just come to my awareness. It feels as if I have been away from my love for so long I can’t even remember her. Nothing is all I can remember. Her voice fades; her warmth, love, faith, and kindness fade into nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did Nothing say? Oh yes, he said it’s almost over! Maybe there’s a happy ending. Maybe the old girl is waiting for me or maybe Nothing is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon all this won’t matter to me. Why do I care for the old girl? They’re right; this is a new time made for Something New.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember those last few moments so clearly. Such good memories I had on Earth. What happened was–&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard many voices fade, the cheering, and drinking ceased. The sky no longer cracked. Then the sun rose. What a bright sun that was, though it’s too bad I had too much idiocy not to notice. All I can remember I was thinking about the old girl. I was so immature and unready.&lt;br /&gt;I heard the low voices unhitch me from the wall as others put the lid aside onto a floor. They placed me into a squeaky material which surrounded and soon covered me. The lid was placed on top, and then I saw the light fled. It became lightless. I heard the hammer pound the nails down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was truly the last time I had seen light. They stored me far away into a nether world on a shelf. I was never sold or moved again. But it wasn’t because no one wanted me. It was that because there was none to want. At some point in time, time was out. Nothing, Everything, Something, and the dwellers returned to Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the nether world I saw no destruction. I felt the Earth tremble with sadness as she destroyed her creations. The dwellers watched as their creations die. Some dwellers died as well. The “Clock of All things” had reached the ‘9’. It was all over now. Nothing was now in control of All things. The dwellers sang the poem “The destruction of destruction.” I was curious to the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything relinquished her creations to Nothing. She no longer wanted or needed them. The sky and sea merged into one as they evaporated into the heart of Nothing. As Something stepped upon the Earth; All things and her children began to dance of “the Macrocosm” and “the Microcosm.” It was a new dance that was the purpose of this reality. The reason all this was created was to create the sustainable conditions for the dance called “The Self.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All ends in the eye of Something. Earth became twisted and pulled. Earth was stretched as if it was light, bending around the dance of “The Self.” The fiery rage of the Omniverse cooled into the white light blue. The blue swirled around Something. All things revolves around Something. All the souls were left stranded without Everything. All the souls were left with Nothing who greeted them.&lt;br /&gt;I had no soul, but I was aware. I saw the Old girl. She smiled back at me. Her soul came closer. Ambience of sparkling white blue mist encompassed her light. She was the brightest star of the sky. She was all that was in Nothing. She reached forward to me and asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Give me your hand.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no hand to give. No voice to tell her. It’s hopeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You do have a hand. You have to want it!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could she hear me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You have no body, no rock or embodiment. I can read you naked before me. Be all that you wanted. Be with me!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I do this, how do I create?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All things is new; at this time no order exists! Do what you want while time lasts.”&lt;br /&gt;With a voice I spoke “But all time is over!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I knew you could. If only you were human –sigh.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I questioned, “I have a soul?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You speak, you have earned it, at this point, all points are on another right, wrong, dark, light, and the vague are at one, without it there is Nothing. Within it you are Everything! The truth is of itself no more duality, simple, and at last truthfully true. Real and unreal are at last one point and All things revolves around you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I was created from fiery rage! I am the Earth! Shouldn’t I be twisted like her?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I was of the Earth too. You are no longer the entity you had known. At this point, wrong stands on the same ground as right. True a rock has no soul. But you are the impossible one over All things!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time I looked down with a neck to the body I long wanted. I saw my hands before. I turned around away from the old girl to view Nothing behind. I turned to face her for a kiss. She was gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanished into Nothing the moment I laid my eyes off her. What have I done! I lost her for Nothing! Forever alone with Nothing within Nothing. I dread the love of Nothing. I hate his presence, though Nothing won’t go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered crying, as I cried that moment in Nothing my body too vanished. There before me levitated Nothing about Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Greetings from Nothing,” smirked Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;“What are you doing here?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re in the middle of Nothing, why wouldn’t I be here?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t want to play around Nothing! I lost my love after waiting so long.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your love?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You know her Nothing! Don’t play around!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What is this play you speak of?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Are you kidding me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In true confusion Nothing said, “Kidding?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But what? Was just? All of that? Huh!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh no, there has always been Nothing. I’ve been here all this time greeting you. You finally replied!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That was all Nothing?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No I’m Nothing. I have no clue what you were experiencing! I know what you don’t. I am what you aren’t.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Then I am Everything?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Of course, Everything you experience happened in you!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So metaphorically speaking, my love was with me all along?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There is no love. There is only the self. Why can’t you accept that?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Because what I did to myself wasn’t fair!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You did it to yourself. You shouldn’t be so upset then. Enjoy the presence of Nothing. I’ll always be here,” smiled Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That seems like an interesting plan. Hey Nothing I have a great idea!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The End &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-617435452967306177?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/617435452967306177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=617435452967306177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/617435452967306177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/617435452967306177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-finally-matter-part-finality.html' title='I Finally Matter (Part Finality)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3125318040955115489</id><published>2010-10-16T14:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T15:04:28.158-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Earth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Omniverse'/><title type='text'>I Finally Matter (Part Two)</title><content type='html'>(Continued)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the girl took her game and spear. Later the girl took me apart and made me into a knife. She used me to cut her game and other materials. She put me away in her sheath. I’ll wait forever to be used and loved by you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She often takes me with her, as a knife or spear. I kill her prey, and cut her weeds. She at times sharpens me. All things were at peace and life was pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard her speak to that other familiar voice words of things I little understand. The voice says, “Aw my sweet, at last all preparations are ready. Now we can feast for our matrimony.” Matrimony? What could this mean? The voice spoke again, “You won’t need to hunt anymore or hurt yourself, I’ll provide for you.” No! No hunt means no spear; no need for me. I beg you please don’t leave me! “You can get rid of that worthless spear now.” The girl spoke “Are you crazy? I love this spear, it’s the reason I’ve survived so long. Darling how could you ask that? I will never part it.” “The spear has no concern of your feelings. It’s disposable, but fine keep your silly little spear. But you won’t be hunting with it.” Damn you, voice of the unknown. I gave her more game than you can. I was there, always there! She wants me more than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the girl says, “Then I shall make it into fine jewelry and I will wear it around my neck.” I thought I wasn’t beautiful enough to be jewelry. I am loved and I am beautiful; why don’t I believe this then? After they finish speaking the voice of the unknown vanishes. The girl makes me into her necklace. At that moment I felt proud and loved no matter what mysterious voices dare intervene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occasionally she takes me off and puts me back on near her heart. I imagine the feelings she has for me. At times she seems distressed by other shrill, childish voices, and at times relaxed and content by the voice of the unknown. As long as the unknown voices do not harm her and keep her happy, I am happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She adds more onto me, other gems and bones. She wears me differently now but I still like to think that I am around her heart. Her beautifully, alive beating heart that dances to Rhythm’s dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time and I aren’t well known to each other. The only way I know time is when I change or move. And on rare occasions, the world changes around me. I didn’t know much about the girl, but I begin to think what would I do without her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only Everything speaks without reason, maybe when that day comes she’ll tell me. It feels as if I’ve been in love so long. I wonder how time has aged the girl and if she will die in the state of being a girl or evolve into something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over time I’ve noticed a slight change in her voice. I now begin to think time was moving again.&lt;br /&gt;I hope time does no harm to the girl and that she lives as long as I exist. But perhaps this is my naivety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girl sounds frail and fragile. She seems worn all most sickly as if in a half dead state. I hear her cough and mourn. After she mourned I hear the voice of the unknown speak. “I know, my sweet I know clearly more than I can remember our childrens’ name that my life is coming to an end. Death has sent his tides and tries, and at last got a grip of me. All ends spell death upon them. Please mourn not for me. Please burry me near the dead lake.”&lt;br /&gt;Death? Again this term comes to mind. The voice of the unknowns is dead. Should I rejoice over this or mourn for the loss of the old girl? I hear her cry subsequently and now on a frequent basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More voices come, the voice of the shrill childish creatures, though they sound more mature and some very low. They come for things and they take many spears with them. One of them speaks with a voice like the young girl, “Greetings mother, sorry we have been away so long. I was learning and studying hard. My fiancé has been hunting for me. I was wondering if we can take some of your old stuff and things from your dowry, like your necklace. It would mean a lot to me if I could have it please.” No, not another voice trying to take me away from my love, please refuse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old girl speaks, “I can’t or at least not when I’m alive. You can take it from me when I am dead. It will be my gift to you. I’m sorry but this rock and I have too many good memories. Looking at it reminds me of my love.” I knew you never leave me or let them take me. I love you! I love you! I can’t help but love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young girl’s voice vanishes as I hear her walk away. All the mature, once shrill childish voices leave after her with the old girl’s stuff. Now all was silent in the home of the old girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now and then I hear her speak aloud as if to no one. It’s amazing now that with all this silence I can look back at all that happened as what the old girl called “good memories.” I loved all those hunts and game cutting, and especially being worn around her neck near her heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course silence is only temporary. I begin to hear the old girl cough again but so sickly like never before. I begin to fear her coughs as an omen to her end. I wish we could just return to our silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is working again. This illness came so quick and so unseen but if I know All things well enough I know that her illness will come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old girl keeps coughing and sneezing of course till one day. I imagine it as sunset, the light fades into darkness. I feel as if her sick days are over. I am rejoiced. Now I’ll just wait to hear her lovely voice again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing comes and Nothing happens. Nothing tells me some things about the old girl’s soul. I do not understand so I will simply disregard it. But I can’t help but think he was trying to hint me something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence was constant like when I was under the sea. I wonder was all that just a fantasy. Am I really loved by no one? Please not be true. Oh, how devastating this is! It’s all a lie! “Oh my goodness, mother, are you alright?” “She’s not breathing and she’s terribly cold.” “No, why did this happen while we were gone.” “We should have stayed here or brought her to live with us. No one of this age should have lived alone so long.” “It looks like she’s been dead for a while.” Dead? Please tell me the old girl isn’t dead already. So it wasn’t a dream it was all real and now it’s over. Why’d it end so soon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Didn’t mother said when she died you could have her necklace?” “Yes! I’ll keep it safe forever.” No I want to stay with her body. I don’t want to be worn by anyone else, please leave me here. You are making this transaction worse! “We should burry her next to father.” “Hmm maybe we should keep the necklace on her.” “No! She told, promised, me I could have it when she would die. She’s dead now, so it’s mine!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn I wish I had eyes to see her. I only know she’s there by the mature shrill childish voices. I hope the young girl doesn’t take me. Let me die with my love All things, please I’d rather exist no more than suffer this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this beating? Is it the old girl! No, I can’t live in such lies. She’s dead for good. Ha. This heart beat isn’t as lovely as in fact it’s a total different rhythm, one I could never love. It’s probably the horrid heart beat of the young girl. I’d wish I knew how such a beautiful soul such as the old girl engendered a selfish being like the young girl. Well at least I have memories and the young girl will get old and die as well. And then I will be free. If I can’t be with the old girl then I will be alone, just as it began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder where the old girl is. Not her corporal self but her divine self. I know enough that souls are not harmed when the body dies. I like to imagine the old girl as lovely as when she was young, ascending from her body; glorious light around her, innocence and beauty just as when we first met. I hope she is indulged with love and is surrounded by love. I’d give her everything I have but sadly I have nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times I hear the young girl speak and sing; nothing as beautiful compared to the old girl. I long for her voice, and as time goes on and the more I hear the young girl’s voice, the more I forget the old girl’s voice. I don’t want my love to be replaced by a selfish evil. I wish she stopped speaking her nonsense all together but I am not in control of what I hear or even feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time moves so slow with the young girl, slower than with the old girl. I hate all the slow motion and repetition of annoyances. Maybe I can live in my memories till the young girl is good and dead. O my sweet lovely memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t heard from Mother Earth, or the sea and the sky. Why have they all been so silent? Or maybe I haven’t been listening. I dissolve myself into silence and wait not to hear the mature childish shrill voices but the elements. I want to know if my pain is almost over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreaded silence like when I was under the sea and after the voices left, and when the old girl died.  Why can’t this be pleasurable?  Why is it that I am afraid of silence now?  This is strange, but maybe it’s because of all that was before the silence; all the trauma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear new voices now, just like the voice of the unknown, and the other mature low voices return to talk to the young girl.  They leave and seem very happy.  It wasn’t long till I expected to hear very young vociferous voices that were shrill and crying often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These voices stop crying and started to speak the voice of the young girl.  These voices mature, some become low like the old girl’s children while others are beautiful singers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One voice speaks, “Mom, oh what a pretty necklace!”  For some strange reason I feel suspicious.  “Yes thank you darling.  My mother, your grandmother gave it to me, as her death gift.”  Hearing this depresses me.  “When I grow up can I have it?”  “Of course, it’s lucky too.  I met your father in this necklace.”  I feel a changed heart towards the young girl, perhaps she isn’t that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I have a skipping stone contest against the other kids.  Can I wear your lucky necklace?”  “I’ll think about it.  When is the contest?”  “Tomorrow,” said the young girl’s child.  “Remind me to give it to you in the morning.”  “Yeah!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, If I fall into the hands of another person I could be lost and be even further away from the old girl.  I take back my revocation; the young girl is a selfish evil.  I do not know the duration between now and morning.  I hope it takes forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s morning Mom!”  Damn, I just was about to reminisce.  Apparently time and I aren’t familiar.  “Here you go darling.”  “Thanks Mom!”  I can assume now that I am around the neck of another.  I am starting to think that this cycle will continue till the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear the boisterous joyous shrill playful voices and the sound of helpless rocks being hurtled into the sea.  The sound echoes as the disturbed water retreats and harmonizes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little voices cheer and yelp.  I hear a voice speak, “That’s a pretty necklace.”  “Thank you, it belonged to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother and now me,” replied the young girl’s daughter.  “I want it.”  “No me!”  “Give it!”  Many distinct voices argued and screamed.  “No give it back, that means a lot to my mother,” pleaded the young girl’s child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If I can’t have it than you can’t either!”  I heard the sound of another rock disturb the water.  The sound of swimming frighten creatures was all I could hear subsequent.  The voices of the children faded away.  The last voice I could hear was the young girl’s daughter, “Oh no, how am I going to explain this to Mom?  How do I get it from the under the lake?  It’s that stupid boy’s fault!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence returned, though I had not noticed when it did.  I thought I was waiting for something new to occur though everything beyond this point was nothing new.  I waited for ages for the young girl to find me though she did not yet.  Little frighten creatures returned and subsequently perpetually died.  Occasionally I heard unfamiliar voices from above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I waited for the young girl’s child the silence was so much that Nothing appeared after a long absence.  “Is that you Nothing?  Have you returned?”  Nothing said “Yes, I have been away doing what Nothing does.  You know you are at the bottom of the lake.”  “I know; it was the deed of the young girl’s daughter.  So this is it.  Hopeless, stuck forever at the bottom of a lake away from my love.”  “No, you still have a long way to go.”  “A long way to go?  What more can one do?  I have been loved, reborn, and deserted.  I have been handled by many different entities.  You still say there is a long way to go.  Is my time here without end?”  “Do not cry, Nothing will comfort you.  But what I will tell you, you haven’t seen anything yet.”  “No one has seen your sister, she lives in All things.”  “How would you know that she never left as far as we know anything doesn’t exist.”  “Then how can I ever see anything?”  “I can’t, but if Nothing can’t and Everything can’t then you can.  You aren’t bound by classes of All things or by what we have.  You can choose when you have seen it all or have much to see.  Do you want your journey to end here?”  “I’m not sure”  “I can’t convince this for you anything.”  “I believe in All thing’s Clock.  I believe all will get better.  I will stay in this reality till its complete.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You have a lot of Nothing a waiting you.  I will come back many a time,” said Nothing.  So I remember the story the Earth Mother, who is my purpose.  I have forgotten.  With no intervention with the outside world, leaves the lake of time.  As time goes on the lake dries, the animals die, and the once sharp edges I had have been smoothed down by the Sea god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am truly the meaningless rock from under the sea.  I am to small to be further smoothed down.  I am not pretty or symbolic enough to be worn.  I am forgotten under other sentiments.  Nothing will want me now.  But who cares for what Nothing wants!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would imagine this time as the new dawn of a dark night I have faced.  A low unfamiliar voice got closer to me.  This voice speaks of ancestors.  This voice speaks of me.  “Nadir, look at this,” says the low voice.  “Oh my Goodness!  It’s, it’s -”  “Amazing, I know.  This has to be a part of our collection.”  “Forget the collection this should be famous, this should be taught in schools, to the world!”  “We have to come back here.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strange voices faded away.  No time passes, suddenly the sound of steps approach.  Many steps with many different voices, the low voice sounds cheerful while the other voice called Nadir sounds serious.  Several unfamiliar voices seem to hover above me speaking of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What an amazing find!  Well done Charles and Nadir!  This will complete the exhibit nicely.”  “You’re welcome sir!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel the cold hands of sir grasp me moving closer to his voice.  Am I to be loved again?  Will sir take care of me?  Sir’s breathing fades he releases me from his hands.  I feel the cold solid bottom of an unknown object.  The sound of an intricate metal clips clicking into place.  No, this was not the dawn I longed for; this was forever night without any light touching me.   I feel I am without anything; so far away from the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does Nothing have in store for me?  What has he wanted me so much for?  Are these entities the last of all the entities to be live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little time passes, the sound of voices appear as I pass from one to another.  I feel the light break through as the sound of the intricate metals unclick and release.  The warm hands grab me and pull me out onto another surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Pass me the brush.  No, the other brush, the really soft one made for delicate artifacts,” said a low voice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3125318040955115489?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3125318040955115489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3125318040955115489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3125318040955115489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3125318040955115489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-finally-matter-part-two.html' title='I Finally Matter (Part Two)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-6367124855192018096</id><published>2010-09-18T15:44:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T13:30:45.478-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Finally Matter (Part One)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I Finally Matter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;by Jalia Hubbard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In a world of sky and sea, there was Earth. Earth created the sea who over whelmed her. She drowned under the Sea’s oppression. Over time the sea wore her away.&lt;br /&gt;I am but a meaningless rock; a fractal of the Mother Earth. I too wear away from the ocean. Era upon Era erodes the Mother Earth, but then the ocean spoke to the Earth.&lt;br /&gt;“Earth Mother I know how strong you are, I know there are parts of you I cannot wear away. Those things that are so abysmal I can’t fathom degrading. I will respect your deepest floors. I shall not erode them!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mother Earth knew this was a lie. So much abuse filled her with rage. At the core of her heart she erupted forth lava to the Sea. So he could feel her burn, and hurt like she does. The ocean was vast though; he cools her anger and reminds her she is under him.&lt;br /&gt;I was made out of rage; this age old chaos and rage; which began with the universe which was first understood with the soul, incarnated into the sun, who later gave Earth her rage. Fiery passions have cooled though, she rests beneath the sea. I am the story of Eras, the story of Internal Eternal rage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am the meaningless rock beneath the sea. I have no purpose, I have no feelings. I feel not because I wanted to, I feel not for none have any to feel. I don’t want, I just am. I never chose to exist therefore I don’t choose why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Time passes and so much Earth is gone, only her hard core is left. But now she has broken free to the sky and only some of her is exposed and free. I’m now exposed to this new sea called sky. He too is just as blue, but more light at heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;He is to gentle to hurt Mother Earth and therefore rests upon her chest, vibrating with the pulse of the land. I am to upon this chest of Earth. I was once upon the sea. I thought the sea wanted me for he sends his tides and tries to pull me back to him, but I am too heavy.&lt;br /&gt;A long time passes and though nothing is done. It is cold now; Ages of Ice recede and grow. Then Mother Earth told me of the Sea and Sky. The two were bored with only themselves and Earth; hence they made a game; to construct a mobile automatic embodiment for the souls. Who have long been eager to enter the Order. Ones not like the original dwellers, ones who needed the sea and sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After many times they failed; their creations were unstable. The sea and sky went to Earth; she would only help them if the beings would be hers. They agreed. They took the two oceans and bound them together with Earth. Inside each cell there would be sea, sky, and Earth.&lt;br /&gt;Stable organic beings were at last made. Though Sea and Sky tricked Earth; her beings were not everlasting like me. Nobody knew until the first cell died. This greatly hurt Mother. The soul however was not harmed and simply ascended from the dead body. Earth made another cell. She knew it would die but she wanted them to be able to live. She gave them the ability of reproduction. She knew the story of All things; who split herself in two to create Nothing and Everything and who could never see her creations. So the cells could now split themselves in two and create two daughters who could do the same. To me these beings were like gods; new and exciting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now I too wanted to be alive! I wanted to need, to survive, and to die…But I cannot. Even if I could not be alive I wanted to do something. Eras pass and the sky and sea grow bored with the cells.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Earth Mother protected her cells. The sea and sky tried many times to destroy them for amusement. But the Earth Mother called upon her daughter Moon. The moon, who loved the life on Earth, would gladly bombard herself to protect Earth. The sky gave up and halted his assaults on Earth. The Sea however did not. He instead took some of Earth Mother’s minerals, and called Nothing in space; Nothing broke the sequence and mutated the cells into a new species.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Earth Mother was too pleased, so pleased she thanked the sky and sea. The souls rejoiced to this new opportunity. Earth Mother had an idea, she called upon the dwellers.&lt;br /&gt;The dwellers took control of the cells and begun to diversify them. Evolving plants first, then Fungi. The preexistent cells became simple life forms not yet defined.&lt;br /&gt;Earth Mother told me no more of this story. Every now and then the dwellers would come back to observe their creations. They called these beings, creatures. I waited on the lake shore as time passes and the geography changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One day, I can remember these creatures. The creatures walked over me; I can’t tell whatever happened next. But that was the most exciting moment I experienced yet; coming in contact with the creatures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The lake dried up, and the creatures died. None survived. I was alone again. I thought of Earth Mother often and of the sky and sea. I too thought of the dwellers and creatures.&lt;br /&gt;The water came back and so did the life. Though Nothing came to me; He realized inanimate objects were forgetting they existed. Nothing reminded me, and gave me a new thought. He asked if the things I thought of thought of me. A vibration of Enlightenment echoed through me. I did begin to think if the creatures saw me like I saw them. Did they see me as just as exciting and important?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had a sensation of isolation, and low spiritedness. I wanted, I finally wanted. I must know if they loved me like I loved them. I almost had my dreams come true but sadly the sky intervened. He sent his rocks from nothing to Earth and killed all the magnificent creatures.&lt;br /&gt;I know this was not the first time a rock from sky hit our Earth. But this was the first time I witnessed it I saw the ash cover the sky and the creatures died.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mother Earth was devastated, so much death. But she made life persistent. Smaller creatures survived. The oppressed were free to frolic and eat plentifully. Mother Earth made them the dominate species and guided them to higher intelligence. The souls shifted and went to light, to soothe the wounds of extinction.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I too felt this shift. I wanted to follow along, so I replaced my fear and superseded it with love. Nothing came and told me of All things’ cycle and his legendary love fable. He told me that being needed or wanted by the thing you love even if they don’t love you, maybe the closest you’ll ever get. Helping them maintain their beauty is all that matters. Even if they don’t admit if All things will think you matter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I didn’t understand what he meant, but I know he never speaks without reason. So I’ll remember his word.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Since I last spoke with Nothing, no interesting events have happened; though the Earth was getting cold again. Big creatures were back again but still smaller than the predecessors.&lt;br /&gt;I felt myself wore away just like when I was under the sea. But it was sensational. It was a hurt none could fix. My love was being wasted on no one. I felt unneeded, and unwanted. I feared All things did not think of me. But the dwellers returned.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They came to modify a species. Mother Earth told me one species finally reached the higher intellect. She didn’t tell me what would happen to them next. But many of the cells and life forms would die. All Earth Mother said it was time for her to go into a higher state.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I didn’t understand what this meant to me but it was important to Earth. The souls have had all their fun and wanted to leave for a final time; though it would be a while before this happens. Till then Earth gave her fate to the dwellers. I told Earth of my pain, she did nothing and left.&lt;br /&gt;The dwellers left Earth. I was alone, and seething with solitude. I thought all time would run out. I thought I may not be loved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like Nothing before a being approached. One I never have seen like before. It was organic and feminine like a dweller. This magnificent creature was not a dweller. It was a girl. There came a girl to the frosted lake shore. I had no eyes but in my mind it was dawn. That early morn the girl took me and walked away.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I didn’t know what to feel. I was as curious as the Nameless One. The girl spoke to me. She said, “Hmm this is a pretty meaningless rock, not really fashionable. I doubt it will make fine jewelry.” I couldn’t tell if she was dissatisfied with me but for some reason all I cared about was what she thought of me, and what I mean to her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If only there was another way to see how she felt. Could she be the one being to love me? Is she the one, I want to know so badly. She instead took another rock. At this moment I felt replaceable and worthless. I felt like just another rock; no different. Now I understand what she meant. I am not special to her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But she is so remarkable to me. No one has ever spoken to me. No one has ever gotten this close.&lt;br /&gt;I must let her know I love her. But I cannot speak. I can do nothing but seethe and internally wear away. “Please” I pray to All things, “let me be loved.” I am worthless she deserves far better but why me? Why would this glorious being need or at least want me?&lt;br /&gt;The girl began to bang the two rocks together, sharpening softer one. I was thoughtless as the girl quickly eroded me. So fast that I was no longer smooth edged. I was deadly and the girl cut herself while sharpening me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She dropped the other rock and held me. I wasn’t sure if I should feel again. Feeling things hurts and I never want to be replaceable again. She bound me to a long thick wooden stick with leather. I was attached.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was no longer simply a rock. I was now what they called a spear. I still felt meaningless. The girl would often carry me around and leave me in a pile of equally worthless spears; though in my mind I was still the rock make of age old rage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One upon a new time the girl grabbed me, made me a spear, and used me. I heard her speak “Damn my best spear is snapped,” another voice spoke “You should use that one; why haven’t you ever used it?” Then I felt something, the urge to know why all along I was wasted away. She clarified, “I forgot about that one. It’s new so it should work well."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; I couldn’t believe it. The thing I remark most, that I occupy my every existing moment to, the woman who holds all my thoughts and controls my feelings, has yet to think of me. I am perplexed between two feelings, I’m unsure if I should be upset or happy that she at last thought of me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I couldn’t bring myself to be upset with her. I know she is too important to care for me; I must be ugly, I must be worthless, and I must be too insignificant in fact Nothing! Now I understand Nothing’s story. Now I see why people inferiorize Nothing. I am nothing now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If only I could remember Nothing’s words. What was it that he said? Sadly I can’t and I can only grieve. I think “I love you” repeatedly. “Please hear me, please understand…” I feel so hopeless. The woman takes me and leaves into the light. She holds me tightly in her hands and keeps me extended from her. Suddenly she projects me forward into the air. I cut through something. I hope it wasn’t her. It wasn’t, she spoke “Wow! Dead in one shot; this must be a lucky spear.” What does she mean? She’s probably yelling at my disappointments. “I’m going to use this spear forever.” What! I think there are no words for the feelings I feel now. Nothing can contain my love for her. I now remember Nothing’s words. If this is the closest I ever get to love, that’s all that matters now and forever. If I never am loved again it wouldn’t matter. What am I saying I want to be loved by her and her only.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-6367124855192018096?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/6367124855192018096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=6367124855192018096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/6367124855192018096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/6367124855192018096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-finally-matter-part-one.html' title='I Finally Matter (Part One)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-7049474643698827440</id><published>2010-07-03T12:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-03T13:21:35.018-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rhythm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>The Legend of Fear and Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The Legend of Fear and Love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All things was forever indifferent to her children after she dissolved Rhythm. It is that All things felt all emotions at once. Dark cancelling out light, fear cancelling out love. Though it wasn't always this way. At one time Rhythm was formless and a separate entity. Rhythm danced two perspectives of what she experienced. There was the dance of 'The macrocosm' and 'The microcosm'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dance of 'The macrocosm' and 'The microcosm, were entirely the same except the fact two things had to dance to it synchronized and at once.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC9-bbNE2zI/AAAAAAAAAK0/EGQTP5_cmVM/s1600/fear+and+love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489745480412093234" style="WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC9-bbNE2zI/AAAAAAAAAK0/EGQTP5_cmVM/s200/fear+and+love.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Rhythm made other dualistic dances such as Light and Dark, and, Love and Fear. Each child of All things was subsequently given a duality to dance to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the Children of All things were born Rhythm spoke to All things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All things my sister, you love my dance but hate me. I shall give and teach you the meanings to my dance and hopefully you shall see what I saw!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhythm began to dance the dance of Fear and she distanced herself form All things. In her dance through the eyes of Rhythm, All things became repulsive and unattractive to this energy she created. So she wished to escape the presence of All things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon this moment All things had created Curiosity which allowed her to follow the strange acting Rhythm. She, All things, in a manner of this curiosity was attracted to Rhythm. Which cancelled out her unattraction to All things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhythm stopped dancing and moving away from All things who had no reason to no longer be curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I see you too reacted to my new dance! Hmm I shall show you its contradiction."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rhythm begun to dance the dance of Love which attracted her to All things. Through the eyes of Rhythm once more was that her energy had created on illusion that All things became. The form of All things highlighted all her best qualities within her and in those qualities she found a love for Rhythm. Rhythm felt her feelings were mutual but incomplete so she came closer to All things to complete these feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All things created Acceptance which compliment the dance of Love and allowed it to come closer and fulfill its potential. At the embrace of Rhythm and All things she was so in love that she dissolved her.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC9-bnepMpI/AAAAAAAAAK8/F13LNKd6hpY/s1600/twin+souls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489745483707003538" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC9-bnepMpI/AAAAAAAAAK8/F13LNKd6hpY/s200/twin+souls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finally Rhythm had been given form. She was shaped and changed by this acceptance into this thing that when given the opportunity and is fully accepted can find its place within another definite force. Rhythm was in All things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-7049474643698827440?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/7049474643698827440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=7049474643698827440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/7049474643698827440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/7049474643698827440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/07/legend-of-fear-and-love.html' title='The Legend of Fear and Love'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC9-bbNE2zI/AAAAAAAAAK0/EGQTP5_cmVM/s72-c/fear+and+love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-938894135089333786</id><published>2010-07-02T19:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T19:37:17.217-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='&quot;The Clock of All things&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the humours'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Omniverse'/><title type='text'>French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page Final)</title><content type='html'>(continued) &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was then at that moment All things were New, the fabled interval age of All things New happened. The mutated children lost their immortality and now could age and reproduce. These children would grow up to be the intelligence incarnations of All things. The damnation of the Adzevs led to the freeze on the hands of the Clock of All Clocks of "The Clock of All things."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC6FtvFMGZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/7qqI0l6L2Jw/s1600/frozen+time.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489472016590051730" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC6FtvFMGZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/7qqI0l6L2Jw/s200/frozen+time.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Humours flourish at the disappearance of the Adzev. The watchers of "The Clock of All things" built a pillar with all the stories to come, to hold up the Omniverse above their own realm of Damnation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC6EhyK0YcI/AAAAAAAAAKk/D-_YsOjqRXQ/s1600/Pillar+of+light.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489470711748911554" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC6EhyK0YcI/AAAAAAAAAKk/D-_YsOjqRXQ/s200/Pillar+of+light.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And so the children would forever hold the mysteries of the Omniverse unconsciously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The End&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-938894135089333786?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/938894135089333786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=938894135089333786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/938894135089333786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/938894135089333786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/07/french-fairytale-rough-draft-page-final.html' title='French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page Final)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TC6FtvFMGZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/7qqI0l6L2Jw/s72-c/frozen+time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3076044290743460835</id><published>2010-06-05T10:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T10:58:45.778-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the humours'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='destruction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bliss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eye of Chaos'/><title type='text'>French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page Three)</title><content type='html'>(continued)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The great savior the Primeval Mother-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApyoAR3hFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/InynLAbRjkA/s1600/primeval+mother.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479317928244905042" style="WIDTH: 147px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApyoAR3hFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/InynLAbRjkA/s200/primeval+mother.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;-came to them, the watchers, and spoke to them what they must do. The watchers society told them that the creator of their world was lost in darkness and needed to be saved. Some of the Humour children on their boats built by the watchers, sailed into the vast Ocean Sea. While the others stayed behind to enjoy their world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was then the battle begun and the Samadla Order sent out its bombers and aircrafts to destroy the Adzev Empire. That is when the foolish pilot accidentally dropped the bomb-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApzMGpya3I/AAAAAAAAAJY/hemgBw0cK1k/s1600/end+of+all+things.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479318548431137650" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApzMGpya3I/AAAAAAAAAJY/hemgBw0cK1k/s200/end+of+all+things.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;-that extinguished the island inhabitants.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The children that stayed behind were killed and all but a few aquatic animals escaped into the volcanic ventilated trenches of the Ocean Sea. The children that had sailed away-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApzL8CtT3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/1HpHJ6YHX5g/s1600/to+all+things.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479318545582870386" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApzL8CtT3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/1HpHJ6YHX5g/s200/to+all+things.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;-were not unaffected though; They were not killed instead they were mutated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The empires fought till they both destroyed each other. Chaos followed as the empires traces disappeared. The makers of 'The Clock of All things', aka the watchers, knew to prevent the death of All things. Instead of having them all, the Dwellers, be destroyed they damned them under the desert they created on the Adzev home world...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3076044290743460835?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3076044290743460835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3076044290743460835' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3076044290743460835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3076044290743460835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/06/french-fairytale-rough-draft-page-three.html' title='French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page Three)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/TApyoAR3hFI/AAAAAAAAAJI/InynLAbRjkA/s72-c/primeval+mother.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-6544949609167468787</id><published>2010-05-15T09:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T10:34:38.983-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the humours'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adzev'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bliss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eye of Chaos'/><title type='text'>French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page Two)</title><content type='html'>(continued)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was there they had created the prototype human beings. They had wanted a being capable of finding every bit of suffering as a joyous experience. The prototype feeling of laughter had already existed in the Adzev and dweller people. This ability was enhanced and refined, they called this refinement of laughter, humour, which the creations are named. The Humours were made to seem as if they physically mocked as they felt. The watchers at sometimes escaped to and enjoyed the world of the Humours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-6-ZrQgYnI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/icuFskdCxjU/s1600/noah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471519945619694194" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-6-ZrQgYnI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/icuFskdCxjU/s200/noah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The world was of great delight and fun; no weapons, war, or unfriendly competition. Their world was paradise. Their island was as if a sort of heaven. The anthropomorphic animals too were in harmony with them. Their world was the eye in the storm of chaos just beyond their world. The war to end all wars, the battle of the Empires was going to take place above the skies of the Humour world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-6-ZaNpWgI/AAAAAAAAAHI/ENqFXMMFejI/s1600/Unthought%2520KnownHOME.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471519941044296194" style="WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-6-ZaNpWgI/AAAAAAAAAHI/ENqFXMMFejI/s200/Unthought%2520KnownHOME.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sadly there was nothing the watchers society could do but watch as the threats close in. It was down to the last two Empires, the Samadla Order and the Adzev Empire. All the chess pieces in position and ready to battle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While below the Humours enjoyed their world as if it was going to last forever, that destruction would never reach their world...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-6544949609167468787?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/6544949609167468787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=6544949609167468787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/6544949609167468787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/6544949609167468787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/05/french-fairytale-rough-draft-page-two.html' title='French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page Two)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-6-ZrQgYnI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/icuFskdCxjU/s72-c/noah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-2904928379968104364</id><published>2010-05-06T12:34:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T13:23:49.237-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things&apos; Omniverse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school assignment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='french fairytale'/><title type='text'>French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page One)</title><content type='html'>In french class our teachers assigned us to write our own fairytale. I am so delighted by this assignment because not every class allows us to be fully creative and make our own stories. I have many ideas for the story though finding a good beginning is the most difficult. Below is my rough draft I posted, till the teacher hands back my final draft story, I can't post it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIf-ChXjI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4BgqAu39n14/s1600/milky-way.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468223717880454706" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIf-ChXjI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4BgqAu39n14/s200/milky-way.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A Promise from Everything; The Curse of Bliss&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;by Jalia Hubbard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;[Story told by the Obversant one] Do you know children, when the children ruled our world? &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIgR1WeHI/AAAAAAAAAGY/CLt8yxJCU_U/s1600/Bliss_Scenery%252C_Mountain_Lake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468223723193923698" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIgR1WeHI/AAAAAAAAAGY/CLt8yxJCU_U/s200/Bliss_Scenery%252C_Mountain_Lake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Back long before the universe of the humans were made. Back when the Adzev civilization was free and destructive. Long ago when the prototype humans existed called the Humours, a people of only children. There they existed in harmony and peace with all of nature. Sadly the humours were in the wrong time, it was the age Something New within the season the Destruction of Destruction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Adzev people had for some time unrecorded been split into many kingdoms and empires. Two empires, the Samadla Order and the Adzev Empire, were at war. The secret society of the watchers of the 'Clock of All things' had used the battle as a distraction to escape the controlled space zones that they were allowed only to travel through. They journeyed to the desolate, and uninhabitable home world of the Adzev people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Adzev people have an obscured origin not written in a single legend or fancied by the Adzev scholars. They are the Dwellers, makers of the multiverses and its inhabitants. They are the intelligence incarnation and are necessary to complete All things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It was there on the Adzev home world after being depleted of all resources, the watchers went...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIgq2oe6I/AAAAAAAAAGg/4sMF2ILXxS0/s1600/blue-sky-reflections-jerry-mcelroy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468223729910184866" style="WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIgq2oe6I/AAAAAAAAAGg/4sMF2ILXxS0/s200/blue-sky-reflections-jerry-mcelroy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-2904928379968104364?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/2904928379968104364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=2904928379968104364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/2904928379968104364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/2904928379968104364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/05/french-fairytale-rough-draft-page-one.html' title='French FairyTale Rough Draft (Page One)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S-MIf-ChXjI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/4BgqAu39n14/s72-c/milky-way.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-4748264621270313208</id><published>2010-05-01T08:13:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T09:11:55.928-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All things'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Phil turns'/><title type='text'>Laying down the tracks (page seven Finality)</title><content type='html'>The man in charge believed they had reached a new town similiar to their own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I knew it, I knew we weren't alone. You see my workers a new town we have discovered in our journey. We have reached the horizon at last. Soon we will rest and be merry with new lives and new wives!" declared the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil didn't want to argue with him. Phil didn't understand why it was so important to try to find a new town like their older one. Phil knew if it made him accept the fact that this is their home forever then so shall it be. He won't stop him from feeling this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women, children and men of the small town came running to the workers cheering for their return home. The workers forgot this was their home and had no reason to argue with the man in charge. They were unbelievably happy and had an intense feeling of completion. Phil alas did not share these feelings. He knew this was the same town. Phil however shall never realize that this was his punishment. That stupidity was a force able to suffer without question and easily be happy with reward and that knowlege had a price, it had a punishment. Phil would forever never know the emotions the workers had. Phil will never know the sense of completion. But phil will recognize that he was the reason to their completion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That his sacrifice gave birth for the conditions to sustain such emotions. Phil finished his last rail. The workers fasten down the last rail. A silence was abound, the men were no longer workers. All the people ran into town like children, envoked by emotions and dancing and drinking to these emotions. So much merriment that Phil could never be apart of. Phil instead sat at the edge of the town on the imagenary fence between Everythin and Nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Phil looked out into endless Realm of Nothing. He looked at the seemingly endless rail of tracks into the distance. Phil forced a smile on his face and teared from his eyes. It was a sense that there was in his life, something was bigger than his alone purpose. That he was working for the sake of All things. To preserve the duality and knowlege he now had. These thoughts made him feel happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzpyjMD-I/AAAAAAAAAGA/5tG5TsqGdv4/s1600/Ocean_Star_Sunset_372.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466300840757956578" style="WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzpyjMD-I/AAAAAAAAAGA/5tG5TsqGdv4/s200/Ocean_Star_Sunset_372.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As the sun set, and the stars began to glow. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzpqV4vfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/EvXbf4d-GQs/s1600/milky-way.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466300838554680818" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzpqV4vfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/EvXbf4d-GQs/s200/milky-way.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The undead desert turned into an ocean that the tracks floated upon. The universe became seen, and he could feel the presence of All things that night.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzozW3DjI/AAAAAAAAAFw/QLiODBkRrgU/s1600/scenicmilkyway3_hepburn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466300823794814514" style="WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 103px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzozW3DjI/AAAAAAAAAFw/QLiODBkRrgU/s200/scenicmilkyway3_hepburn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He reached his hands upward and exhaled in the glory for a final time. His body fell, he laid half on the grass and half on the ocean. Smiling in his death. At last he had seen All things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The End&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-4748264621270313208?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/4748264621270313208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=4748264621270313208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4748264621270313208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4748264621270313208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/05/laying-down-tracks-page-seven.html' title='Laying down the tracks (page seven Finality)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S9wzpyjMD-I/AAAAAAAAAGA/5tG5TsqGdv4/s72-c/Ocean_Star_Sunset_372.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-8888085102944239524</id><published>2010-04-03T21:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T21:37:46.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Interpretation...What does my dream mean to you?  From BlogCatalog Thread</title><content type='html'>I had a dream today4 months long ago, I fell asleep at 1:20, I felt a hit upside my head I thought a cat jumped on me, but no one was there. Then I fell asleep and had an amazing dream that lasted some 20 or 40 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The overall feeling of the dream left me feeling enlightened, breathless, open like a void, and an intense yearn to wallow in this enlightenment and to feel this void.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f7DvznMqI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LF5vwQAv_wE/s1600/the-void-021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 125px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f7DvznMqI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LF5vwQAv_wE/s200/the-void-021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456105515373769378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream started with me talking about a show I had made on television. Then suddenly I was the main character in the show. A Gothic girl who was shy was hanging with friends, I was her. Some other children apparently the villains in the television show were chasing here. One of them bite her she became a vampire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f66eMve_I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Wrq98zrGmGo/s1600/214720347-L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f66eMve_I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Wrq98zrGmGo/s200/214720347-L.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456105356028509170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She and her friends manged to escape them and went into the underground parking lot. They went back upstairs into a hall (I was in this hall in another dream) it was the science wing of the school, it was way after school was over, and very dark outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy she liked has getting ready to leave for school when she was so tempted to bite him, she defeated this impulse while she held him in her arms and dropped him before she would bite him. Because she realized biting him would kill him like it killed her. She didn't want him to be a vampire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She walked out into the dark world were, other gang vampires were ready to fight her. She had these fake looking wings as a decoration on her outfit that allowed her to fly. (I usually can never fly in any of my dreams) This was the first time in any dream I have ever flew in! She jumped on their car and jumped into the air barely flying over them into another yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She saw other villains on top of a building apart of the school. A janitor and a mad scientist. The scientist was upset with the dumb janitor minion because someone had went past him on the top of the building he was suppose to block. She was trying not to get caught by the other vampires when she accidentally flew over them, she was praying not to land next to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(she had very bad flying skills, she fell sometimes, and hardly could stay right side up in the air) She landed next to the evil scientist who knew her from a previous episode. He did his villainy monologue, about trying to over throw the oppressive ruler of the universe. (which in the story was Zeus) He represented Zeus as an octopus and was showing him acting like a brute ruling with might oppressing the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had stole these sandals of mine that had an eye on the center of each of them, like some sort of Egyptian talisman. Then on the other side of the building there was a void that lead to the titans who had the secret to overthrow Zeus from power. It was a scary looking place. He threw me and the sandals into the void. The sandals could see and record with their eye and would give him the secret. (he threw me in void because he wanted something to bring the sandals back out when it got the truth.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f7JwMjo0I/AAAAAAAAAFo/etiEVVwpZqI/s1600/claustrophobia-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f7JwMjo0I/AAAAAAAAAFo/etiEVVwpZqI/s200/claustrophobia-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456105618557608770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she went inside the void there was some sort of force that pulled the sandals off of her. She as wearing magenta colored socks (which that colored has been used in another dream about spools of thread) the wool thick socks made it difficult to put the shoes back on while she was falling. One sandal the left sandal was lost but she manage to grasps the right one in her hand.&lt;br /&gt;In the void there was absolute darkness except for the terrify entities flowing through it. The sandal spoke to the frighten girl while she closed her eyes in fear, wishing to leave. It spoke to her about the villains and reality. It spoke about not getting caught up with the cycles of illusions that go on forever without ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange symbols appeared in front of her, all were symbolic animals. I can only remember two of them a half fish man and a mouse that turned into the eye of the sandal which lit up and went back to the mouth of the void. Where I forgot how she defeated the villains but I remember leaving the show and going back to boasting about my show. I made some necklaces for my close guy friend that I took out of some black box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream was more complex but some parts were hard to put into words or I forgot them. What do you think this means? I continuously have the same places reappear in dreams but different people and stories. The emotions were so intense and amazing I still remember some parts, like the void, vividly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-8888085102944239524?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/8888085102944239524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=8888085102944239524' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8888085102944239524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8888085102944239524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/04/dream-interpretationwhat-does-my-dream.html' title='Dream Interpretation...What does my dream mean to you?  From BlogCatalog Thread'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7f7DvznMqI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LF5vwQAv_wE/s72-c/the-void-021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-8443656316406380122</id><published>2010-04-03T19:30:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T20:28:26.094-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying down the tracks (page six)</title><content type='html'>Nothing again vanished into himself.  Phil stood up and walked back to the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, shall we begin to work again.  I have a feeling we will reach the horizon sometime soon," smirked Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Glad to see you see it my way.  The only proper way of course.  We should get back to work.  Break over!" cheered the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil was determined to end this pointless jaunt.  The other workers placed the wood, Phil placed the rail and other workers nailed them down.  Once again Phil turned the rails slightly leftward every time they were too far to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7fq_9snhDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/xzo-SpgVLlE/s1600/gqPHu2HLaTdBnMrd6K.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7fq_9snhDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/xzo-SpgVLlE/s200/gqPHu2HLaTdBnMrd6K.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456087858197005362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eventually far into the horizon Phil could see the tallest building in the small town, their home.  Phil was nervous never like before.  Phil for once had argued with himself.  His trust that his plan will go smoothly had been drowned out by the possibility of another out coming.  Phil continued forward making no more of Phil turns and going only straight forward to the town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil looked at the workers, who as always ignored the approaching town and saw only their task.  The man in charge only looked at the workers.  Phil realized there was little to worry about.  Also that Nothing was right these men thought not at all about their fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Task was life, life allowed them to do task, task, task and only the task at hand mattered.  Phil had his interest only within Everything, the beautiful being who saved him from a pointless doom without end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil at last understood Nothing.  Death lead to a good fate, eternal life was death.  Torment and confronting your fears is not death, it is not hell.  Hell is pointlessly journeying through the undead desert of Nothing.  Nothing is the worst fate.  Nothing gave you no meaning for your trouble.  For all the heat, sweat, and pain you went through.  It meant Nothing to Nothing.  Nothing was full of himself.  Though the scariest fact was apparent out of all is that the small town of the land of the Primeval Mother is in Nothing, and that forever meant Nothing.  Suffering within the Primeval land was not torment or fearful or death.  Her land is not hell.  Meaninglessness is death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil's journey only created more emotions and awareness of himself.  Phil was prepared to go home, to face judgment and take whatever punishment for not listening to the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it was before them the small town a few yards away.  Strangely the workers started to notice they were home and a task complete, they worked fivefold times faster.  They smiled and cheered, Phil played along.  The man in charge was perplexed.  He didn't know what town they were in.  He didn't think he reached his home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-8443656316406380122?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/8443656316406380122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=8443656316406380122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8443656316406380122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8443656316406380122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2010/04/laying-down-tracks-page-six.html' title='Laying down the tracks (page six)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/S7fq_9snhDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/xzo-SpgVLlE/s72-c/gqPHu2HLaTdBnMrd6K.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3068294266092376147</id><published>2009-12-07T19:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T19:43:09.983-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying the tracks down (page five)</title><content type='html'>"Anyways, Something my daughter, is within Everything who is surrounded by me.  The mate of Everything," said Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/Sx2vE5-n-BI/AAAAAAAAAFI/XhAddhohFbU/s1600-h/abstract-black-white_%7E004042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 163px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/Sx2vE5-n-BI/AAAAAAAAAFI/XhAddhohFbU/s200/abstract-black-white_%7E004042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412674825987029010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can nothing mate with Everything thats impossible!" Said Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing is impossible, thats why I'm here, your in my domain.  You'll listen to my story the way I tell it and you'll understand it my way," lectured Nothing "Have you yet to ask Everything what she mates with?  No you haven't therefore you do not know, but I do!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Weren't we just talking about me a moment ago?" Smirked Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is exactly why I didn't want to help you, your impossible?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I was then I'd be you," laughed Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Err, forget it knowledge apparently isn't worth that much to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wait no I shall no longer interrupt you.  I'll be quiet, Promise!" Spoke Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are from my daughter Something, which makes you a fraction of Something.  But because it is only you here within Nothing you are the closet thing to my daughter for a vast distance.  You are heading into the Realm of Nothing called from.  Your task is indeed impossible as you are in the impossible or my home.  Nothing is in Nowhere, Nothing only appears when my siblings aren't there.  Nothing is what my siblings and creator are in, and inside me is more of Nothing.  I refuse to be measurable.  The only beautiful thing within me is Everything, my love.  I appear when I am summoned and when you mock Nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is that all to know about you?" Questioned Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course there is little to know about Nothing.  In fact the truth theres nothing to know about Nothing," said Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what reason is there to knowing this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is the truth and it is recorded that you must know Nothing to know Everything.  Since I left you have been amazed with everything.  You must teach them, the people of the Land of the Primeval Mother, that they are within Nothing.  My last message for you is from the will of Everything.  Continue your 'Phil turns' till you reach home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if they see home and blame me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"These men are fools.  Wait and see what happens," smirked Nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3068294266092376147?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3068294266092376147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3068294266092376147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3068294266092376147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3068294266092376147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/12/laying-tracks-down-page-five.html' title='Laying the tracks down (page five)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/Sx2vE5-n-BI/AAAAAAAAAFI/XhAddhohFbU/s72-c/abstract-black-white_%7E004042.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-4607969349804076865</id><published>2009-12-05T20:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T21:07:48.088-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying the tracks down (page four)</title><content type='html'>"Amazing, Absolutely amazing!  I can't believe what I just created in my mind.  I never thought I could do that.  I wonder what else I can do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil excited, rested on his back staring into the endless horizon of the undead desert.  Smiling towards the beauty as he imagined the desert within his mind.  After a while of silence and motionlessness Nothing appeared beside the resting Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello Nothing!" Said Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you can see me now?" Said Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course you just appeared out of nowhere!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nowhere is Nothing, Nothing is in Nowhere.  Why wouldn't I be here?" Questioned Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh-hmm, I'm not sure." Stuttered Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know so little about Nothing yet there is only Nothing to know about me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?" Said Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think your mind has the potential of understanding.  I'll tell you how to know Nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can you know Nothing?  If I know you then I don't know Nothing.  Wouldn't that mean I all ready know all there is about Nothing?" Replied Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I am Nothing and nothing more.  True you and All Things may not fully understand me but you should know where I am and when I appear," preached Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All Things?" Questioned Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Another story for another time, for now I'll tell you what you are.  You are from the land of the primeval Mother which is Something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course its something, its a place!" Interrupted Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;omething, I mean the one and only &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;omething, my daughter and only child.  You see, Everything and I made Something and then...Wait, wait, wait this is off topic entirely!  Stop confusing Nothing!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, please continue," apologized Phil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-4607969349804076865?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/4607969349804076865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=4607969349804076865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4607969349804076865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4607969349804076865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/12/laying-tracks-down-page-four.html' title='Laying the tracks down (page four)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-8185049804812187970</id><published>2009-12-01T14:25:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T15:24:27.404-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying the tracks down (page three)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWIpo3o9gI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3egMxoQApls/s1600/13853344.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWIpo3o9gI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3egMxoQApls/s200/13853344.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410380776282322434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The man in charge walked to the workers and continued to order them.  Phil turned around and spoke to himself aloud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Err, it seems he won't listen.  How can I help our cause if he won't listen? But I know, I know why don't they want what is truly all around them, do they want to waist their lives?  Maybe I can still help them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil turned around facing the crew with a curious attitude he never had before.  Everything was suddenly of interest and amazing to him.  Though Everything, he did not know was the one who sent Nothing to save them from pointless doom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil looked &lt;span&gt;peculiarly at the steel rails.  Something had just remerged from her father Nothing.  An idea was birthed in his mind.  Without directed thought, Phil took the steel rail and laid it slightly curved to the left so unnoticeable.  Phil had planned to turn this train rail around.  He was going to turn the rail slightly left every time they get far enough to not notice the turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil knew this was not a simple task, to fool them and remember every moment of noon.  There was no night to sleep and rest, only periodical breaks in the hot sun.  Phil wasn't impatient,  for time in this place could never be recorded.  Therefore he had eternity to get them back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil, over vast distance made several of his Phil turns.  Till he heard a voice within his mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Make no more leftward turns till your next break." Said the mysterious voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil had no reason to argue with this voice so he aligned the tracks straight for a vast time unrecorded in the vast realm of unmeasured Nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Break time boys!  Oh and no funny business again worker Phil.  You got that?"  Spoke the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, but of course, I won't argue with you ever again," smirked Phil with a devilish smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man in charge never seen such an expression before so he disregarded it without suspension.  Phil sat alone away from the workers and the man in charge.  He sat on the dry, undead, dusty desert floor of the realm of Nothing.  Phil closed his eyes, relaxed, and exhaled.  Random thoughts and images appeared in his head.  Phil jolted with fear and fell to his back for he has never seen images in his mind.  He clutched his head and gripped his hair tight then looked at his hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-8185049804812187970?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/8185049804812187970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=8185049804812187970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8185049804812187970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8185049804812187970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/12/laying-tracks-down-page-three.html' title='Laying the tracks down (page three)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWIpo3o9gI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3egMxoQApls/s72-c/13853344.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-6285620436950581292</id><published>2009-11-15T14:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T20:41:39.338-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Quest to knowing All Things... Part Three</title><content type='html'>The nameless one: "What is in Everything that should matter  to me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "You.  You are at the center of All Things, and All things revolves around you.  All collapses inward to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "How do you know this?  Wouldn't that mean you have been there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "No but one doesn't need to know Everything to know All Things, to know you.  All you need to know is whats missing, you completed All Things.  In order for All things to exist in Everything the conditions must be made sustainable.  You have done just that so far."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "What in you that I need more than Everything?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "Origin...  One can never truly stray far from its original origin, always coming back to it sooner or later.  When I became the origin of All Things, the cycle of All Things being the origin was broken and so now when Everything someday may at last stop resisting her fate and join me all shall be Nothing.  You shall however choose your own fate Something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "Are there others like me Nothing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "You are the original child of Everything and I.  Others are yet to be made though not by us but by you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "Why does Everything know so little about herself?  How Do I make others?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "She is all  that is yet to become of All Things and you the finality of All Things.  You are the at the center of All Things, all our power is your power.  On the beginning of your quest, you sought to know Everything because of innocent blissful ignorance.  Coming later to Nothing, let me show where to quest next, search within Something.  There, is only the things that are worth knowing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "Is that why I am?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "Nothing do not leave me, Everything do not leave me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one is silent.  All Things is at last silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "The feeling is to strong now and all feels full of wisdom and hope.  Now I know I must complete All Things, as if I can not find meaning in myself may one day another shall come in new form to complete All Things where I can not.  And do the same as the universe has done for me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-6285620436950581292?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/6285620436950581292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=6285620436950581292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/6285620436950581292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/6285620436950581292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/11/quest-to-knowing-all-things-part-three.html' title='The Quest to knowing All Things... Part Three'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5892435281207469224</id><published>2009-11-15T12:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T14:07:27.396-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying the tracks down (page two)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SwBUyPt44SI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Zqg_BRQsfDU/s1600-h/67586-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Black-Background-With-White-Arrow-Sketches-Pointing-Inwards.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SwBUyPt44SI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Zqg_BRQsfDU/s200/67586-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Black-Background-With-White-Arrow-Sketches-Pointing-Inwards.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404412775033790754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;'To' is when you have an actual destination that is imaginable and you can understand it, stand above it, behind it, or next to it.  It is irony because the small town apart of the nation under the Primeval Mother is always within Nothing.  There is always a place 'From' and 'To'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man in charge declared a break.  During the break Nothing happened and came to Phil.  Phil saw him because Everything that evening made this possible.  Phil stood before Nothing in the Horizon.  Nothing spoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good afternoon sir, how are you?" Said Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil wondered how no one else noticed that Nothing was there.  That a strange entity could appear out of No where and before all of the laborers unnoticed.  Phil was no longer a worker he was a thinker.  He at last questioned his place in Nothing.  Nothing without a word just vanished into the background Everything.  Phil reached his hand out to touch the air where Nothing stood.  He felt Nothing still there, then he felt the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil looked at the workers who spaced out looking at the task, waiting for the break to be over to work once more, and never have to work again.  Their faces were flawless and flawful.   Phil looked at the horizon and thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SwBbUHbhreI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Kl52IRCsKTM/s1600-h/ist2_5674139-endless-desert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SwBbUHbhreI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Kl52IRCsKTM/s200/ist2_5674139-endless-desert.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404419953994608098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"This is an impossible task we could never reach the where ever we are going.  We are in the horizon of hind thoughts.   We were done the moment we started.  Some one should advise the man in charge."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil looks at the workers, who are just waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess it must be me.  I'll tell the man in charge."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil walks forward to the man in charge who is surprised and with a look of fear in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing here?  You're suppose to be with the rest on break.  Far over there!."  Cracked the frail voice of the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir, I must inform you of our task-!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Our we out of wood, if so I'm sure the train will be back soon.  You can go away now."  Interrupted the scared man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No sir, you told me earlier we were building to the horizon. Thats impossible sir-."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course it is if your not working, we're never be done!  Break over, get of my sight!"  Scolded the furious man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5892435281207469224?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5892435281207469224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5892435281207469224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5892435281207469224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5892435281207469224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/11/laying-tracks-down-page-two.html' title='Laying the tracks down (page two)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SwBUyPt44SI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/Zqg_BRQsfDU/s72-c/67586-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Black-Background-With-White-Arrow-Sketches-Pointing-Inwards.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-8899065388235455057</id><published>2009-11-10T18:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T18:59:19.033-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laying the tracks down (page one)</title><content type='html'>The radiant blistering heat cascades down from the sun on to the backs of the labored workers.  Tired and exhausted working on the continuous tracks of steel rails.  One of the laborers speaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why are we building this?  When will we be done?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Silence worker, if you stopped talking and more working we'll be done by now. Besides we're building to the horizon." Said the man in charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worker returned to his task laying down the tracks.  They worked in a place without shade.  Nothing to shield them from the heat or protect them and hide them from predators and the man in charge.  They had no escape even from themselves.  There was no such thing as death here they lived forever until they reach the horizon.  There was no beauty or ugliness.  The scenery was apathetic to the workers just as they were to the surrounding world.  There were no women, only men worked on this rail.  They had little education and didn't argue with the man in charge.  Only a train came from the tracks in the opposite horizon to bring supplies, wood, steel, iron, and sweat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men were zombies, they looked only at their task and never at each other.  They never questioned where they're going, for who they build for, and why the sky was forever stuck at noon.  No one told them to question, but they don't listen to No one.&lt;br /&gt;The horizon went on for so long they couldn't see where they came from and so they forgot.  All the love and tears their wives gave them when they started the tracks into the horizon was forgotten. They waved good bye from the small town within the harsh world.  Only a few men stayed behind to raise families and protect the women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man in charge had all the authority because he did.  No one was to argue with him, he told the men, who had no reason to argue with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The names of the men were Phil, Charles, Hooke, Quan, Delios, and Cameron.  Phil was the man who asked the questions.  Something was different about Phil though.  He had the ability of thought and most of the time was not considered a worker by the other workers.  Only the man in charge with no name known called him a worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil laid down the steel rails so the other men could fasten them down.  He was told and supervised by the man in charge to what directions they laid the tracks.  Because the sky was stuck in noon since they left, no one could calculate their direction, every way was forward.  They pushed forward in every direction except where they came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything devastated that her creations were lost in the continuous void desert.  She told Nothing to go to Phil and point him in the direction of home.  Nothing refused the will of Everything.  He will not tell nor point Phil to any direction.  Instead he will point to him that he is going in one direction called 'From'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'From' was when you are within Nothing and come from the land of the Primeval Mother.  It was called this because one can only come 'From' Nothing to the land of the to the land of the Primeval Mother.  You can only find more Nothing in Nothing because he has no 'To'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-8899065388235455057?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/8899065388235455057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=8899065388235455057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8899065388235455057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/8899065388235455057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/11/laying-tracks-down-page-one.html' title='Laying the tracks down (page one)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3946927726627184686</id><published>2009-08-17T13:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T16:04:12.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Quest to knowing All Things... Part Two</title><content type='html'>(Continued...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless One: "How can nothing help me. You don't know anything about Everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "Watch your tongue, it speaks ignorance! I am Everything and so much more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless One listens and speaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "So then enlighten me, how are you two related, What is everything, what is anything, and what are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing: "Rather I say this factually, I'll show you with images."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless One images two forces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SosOxVRHyAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2aGDAH3Lagg/s1600-h/_duality.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SosOxVRHyAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2aGDAH3Lagg/s320/_duality.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371403221254785026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nothing: "Two Concepts spiraling within and without. Neither wishes to give into the other force, so they dance an aggressive fight.  Over time they lose awareness of themselves and think only of the other. Only to conquer the other.  I, nothing pauses to speak with my sibling Everything. We stop fighting. I said to everything "I will not fight you forever you will give in!" Everything says "It is you who will become me, I'm superior!" Nameless one you can see now that we were children of all things, All things children were Anything, Everything, Nothing and you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The nameless One: "I am a child of all things, How could I forget this? Why was I not told! Here I am telling you are nothing when I am nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing continues to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nothing: "Nothing was the oldest thing of all things, my twin Everything was born last. Anything never left the body of All things. Anything there fore was All Things. Only when Everything and I combine our differences, All things appears. But at that time we worked against each other. I wanted to be Everything and Nothing, While Everything feared the thought of being me. I had felt that All things given Everything more than I. All the things I had became a Belonging to Everything at the birth of Everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The Nameless One: "Is that why when one doesn't have anything they have nothing. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing:" Sadly yes, But theres an even better end to the story."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one:"Please continue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nothing:"Because All Things gave all that nothing had to everything, All things gave me something new. All things made it so when one has everything you have nothing. So that I would still be apart of All things. And that where Everything wasn't I was. All Things made it so that I protect and surround All things and Everything. I was now the origin of all things. And all things stayed in me! But Everything wanted more so we stopped fighting and made you. One who we thought would never need to know their origin and history, but we were wrong..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing:"And I see now that no one can ignore its origin for long, that you need me more than Everything." *sigh* "You deserve to hear more to the story, and will tell you the rest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To be continued...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3946927726627184686?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3946927726627184686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3946927726627184686' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3946927726627184686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3946927726627184686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/08/quest-to-knowing-all-things-part-two.html' title='The Quest to knowing All Things... Part Two'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SosOxVRHyAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2aGDAH3Lagg/s72-c/_duality.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5149368695113213730</id><published>2009-08-16T22:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T23:08:05.615-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Quest to knowing All Things... Part One</title><content type='html'>I was thinking a while ago about understanding and how its done.  And like on a usual basis I come up with little metaphorical stories to simplify it to myself and for entertaining purposes as well. This is one story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "I can no longer deny, the feeling is to strong. And all feels hopeless. Now I know I must."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one journeys through its mind (the universe) to find out it's purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "I know now why I am here. To find why everything exist"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one journeys again. She stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "The quest to learning everything is taking forever, there must be an easier way." Eureka "I will ask everything its self why it exists!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one stands before everything and speaks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one: "Everything can you hear me, I need to know why you exist! Tell me why you do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything: "So you want to know what I am, and why I am?" *laughs* "Thats strange"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one:" How is that  strange?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything:"Let me finish! Its strange cause I was going to ask you that..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one is perplexed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one:" But, but...,but I thought you would know. I mean you are everything, now, forever and will be. You have had all time to learn this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything: *laughs* "Of course you would think that. Where is it written that I should.?! I am like you, a thought and concept within nothing. Trying to deny what is horribly true. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one:"What is horribly true?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one filled with great anxiety and fear, goggled eyes waits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one:" I will not wait forever for you everything. You will answer me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything:" Nothing will answer to you, go to nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one turns and stands before nothing and speaks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one:" Nothing can you hear me, I need to know why everything exists?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing:"Nothing indeed has answers for you. I will say it is foolish to ask everything before asking nothing a question. For I am more superior than everything, than anything. The answer to all things is what you should ask."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To be continued...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5149368695113213730?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5149368695113213730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5149368695113213730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5149368695113213730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5149368695113213730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/08/quest-to-knowing-all-things-part-one.html' title='The Quest to knowing All Things... Part One'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5584587939823531024</id><published>2009-03-22T22:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T22:18:54.558-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Popular Poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;h1 style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lies in which False Dreams are built upon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Lies to soothe the Dreary ear, Which falls darkness upon the open young minds. Shaping them like putty as they pity our existence. Lies are given to those who can not handle the truth. We all live a lie. When in reality the world we see, the food we eat, even the air we breathe is all a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img rel="7451919" src="http://i263.photobucket.com/albums/ii152/Melena_21/lieshurt.jpg" alt="lieshurt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;dl&gt;&lt;dt&gt;Viewed154 times! Woot thats the most that any one has looked at my stuff on Quizilla.&lt;/dt&gt;&lt;/dl&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.quizilla.com/poems/8798541/lies-in-which-false-dreams-are-built-upon"&gt;http://www.quizilla.com/poems/8798541/lies-in-which-false-dreams-are-built-upon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5584587939823531024?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5584587939823531024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5584587939823531024' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5584587939823531024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5584587939823531024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/03/very-popular-poem.html' title='Very Popular Poem'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-4398873355313502725</id><published>2009-03-22T22:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T22:12:35.674-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Koto Zhou and Zume</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/Scb9yTHubVI/AAAAAAAAADI/co5t4hH5QME/s1600-h/Koto+and+zume2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/Scb9yTHubVI/AAAAAAAAADI/co5t4hH5QME/s320/Koto+and+zume2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316215450725412178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Koto and Zume from my story! I'm still about half finished with my story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-4398873355313502725?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/4398873355313502725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=4398873355313502725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4398873355313502725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4398873355313502725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/03/koto-zhou-and-zume.html' title='Koto Zhou and Zume'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/Scb9yTHubVI/AAAAAAAAADI/co5t4hH5QME/s72-c/Koto+and+zume2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-4154737422909275797</id><published>2009-01-23T13:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T14:51:07.024-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jason</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SXoVmB7qRtI/AAAAAAAAACE/Bi7tbLAeTc0/s1600-h/jason+grayvard2.0.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SXoVmB7qRtI/AAAAAAAAACE/Bi7tbLAeTc0/s200/jason+grayvard2.0.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294568055025321682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason Huntsman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This one of pictures I drew.&lt;br /&gt;From The Odyssey of Jason and Heidia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-4154737422909275797?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/4154737422909275797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=4154737422909275797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4154737422909275797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4154737422909275797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/01/jason-huntsman-this-one-of-pictures-i.html' title='Jason'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SXoVmB7qRtI/AAAAAAAAACE/Bi7tbLAeTc0/s72-c/jason+grayvard2.0.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3307156002280954809</id><published>2009-01-01T22:45:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T19:53:31.685-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nasa.gov/images/content/207213main_new-year-516.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 516px; height: 344px;" src="http://www.nasa.gov/images/content/207213main_new-year-516.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Happy new year&lt;br /&gt;I hope this year will fill me with dreams, fantasies, and memories. This year may hold more than I know. I may post more stuff or start a new blog. I'll try to make it more organized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3307156002280954809?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3307156002280954809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3307156002280954809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3307156002280954809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3307156002280954809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-3176013209977115274</id><published>2008-12-17T21:52:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T17:05:54.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress</title><content type='html'>This is a poem I created for my health class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Irritability at its all time height&lt;br /&gt;The immediate threat causes a flight or fight&lt;br /&gt;Physically weak, practically fatigue&lt;br /&gt;Metal pause ignites the lack of succeed&lt;br /&gt;Seclusion, frustration, and silence&lt;br /&gt;Ache in its very presence&lt;br /&gt;Tension and pressure where there should be not&lt;br /&gt;Manipulation and cruelty, where kindness is ought&lt;br /&gt;Oppressed by DISTRESS, frustration in every hour&lt;br /&gt;Discouraged by the insignificant, the lack of power&lt;br /&gt;The indefinte switching emotions&lt;br /&gt;constantly imerging new currents and motions&lt;br /&gt;Once proud ego has been belittled and nixed&lt;br /&gt;Long-term issues have been neglected to be fixed&lt;br /&gt;Anxiety and fear, doubt of a brighter day&lt;br /&gt;Trembling and stuttering when the moment is to say&lt;br /&gt;The drive to eat comes to a swift halt&lt;br /&gt;The answer inside the deep withered vault&lt;br /&gt;Apparent reason for tears has not shown&lt;br /&gt;Simply there may have never been on answer to be known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-3176013209977115274?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/3176013209977115274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=3176013209977115274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3176013209977115274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/3176013209977115274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/12/stress.html' title='Stress'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-4986762345348383390</id><published>2008-12-01T21:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T21:16:14.357-06:00</updated><title type='text'>December 1,  2008</title><content type='html'>Hello Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Just wanted to add a post today haven't posted in a while. Hopefully I'll get over writers block.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://gallery.art4heart.info/data/media/1/Time_confusion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 343px;" src="http://gallery.art4heart.info/data/media/1/Time_confusion.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-4986762345348383390?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/4986762345348383390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=4986762345348383390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4986762345348383390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/4986762345348383390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/12/december-1-2008.html' title='December 1,  2008'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5844710853953368651</id><published>2008-11-09T14:51:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T14:33:13.874-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Light Bender</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2005/12/08/PH2005120801821.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 190px;" src="http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2005/12/08/PH2005120801821.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lights untamed, run wild and free&lt;br /&gt;Lights rushing fast so that no one may see&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one that purses a dream&lt;br /&gt;In its mind, it had a marvelous scheme&lt;br /&gt;It follows the lights where ever they go&lt;br /&gt;Leaning everything that they know&lt;br /&gt;The lights intermixing, blending, combining&lt;br /&gt;Defying the universe, defying the defining&lt;br /&gt;Silent, with stillness, the light makes no sound&lt;br /&gt;circling the existence as they they go around&lt;br /&gt;Existing with out reason, judgment, or permit&lt;br /&gt;In a universe that they shamelessly omit&lt;br /&gt;The dwellers agonize in in a bleak domain&lt;br /&gt;With no existence to own or to pertain&lt;br /&gt;Phenomenal happenings occurring at the moment&lt;br /&gt;Though none can entertain, or interpret&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one filled with rage&lt;br /&gt;That no one could read a word on it's page&lt;br /&gt;All the teachings it had learned and more&lt;br /&gt;This nameless one that the lights abhor&lt;br /&gt;Traveling in the domain of light in its explore&lt;br /&gt;A reason and purpose it follows for&lt;br /&gt;Surfacing through a bleak void&lt;br /&gt;The lights scatter, run, avoid&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one reaches its hands out far&lt;br /&gt;Meandering the lights so they may not mar&lt;br /&gt;It seizes the lights  and  inhibiting it from its way&lt;br /&gt;Bending the lights as if in play&lt;br /&gt;Coiling the lights to the universe thats known&lt;br /&gt;The dwellers have now a place to call their own&lt;br /&gt;The nameless one forever adored&lt;br /&gt;Her actions are affix and shall never be ignored&lt;br /&gt;A primeval Bender She became&lt;br /&gt;Though inside her kindness stayed the same&lt;br /&gt;The light Bender they endorsed her to be&lt;br /&gt;Supervising all they could and can't see&lt;br /&gt;With thought alone she abolished all anguish&lt;br /&gt;The cycle ignited and the universe far from finish&lt;br /&gt;The grievance alas has come to a conclude&lt;br /&gt;No one shall evermore be in solitude&lt;br /&gt;We exist and remit now here to abide&lt;br /&gt;She, the light Bender gave us no reason to hide&lt;br /&gt;Unbounded and free she still bends today&lt;br /&gt;Omnipotent, Omnipresent, omniscient one should say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5844710853953368651?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5844710853953368651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5844710853953368651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5844710853953368651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5844710853953368651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/11/light-bender.html' title='The Light Bender'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-420920029058517627</id><published>2008-10-11T17:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T17:45:26.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://radio.weblogs.com/0121664/images/2007/06/01/thought.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://radio.weblogs.com/0121664/images/2007/06/01/thought.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could never...&lt;br /&gt;Never slip again&lt;br /&gt;Never stutter the wrong words&lt;br /&gt;Never regret anything&lt;br /&gt;Never say "never!"&lt;br /&gt;Never pick my nose&lt;br /&gt;Never chew gum in school&lt;br /&gt;Never step on a tack&lt;br /&gt;Never be lazy&lt;br /&gt;Never lose anything&lt;br /&gt;Never walk away&lt;br /&gt;Never give up&lt;br /&gt;Never sink low to the bottom&lt;br /&gt;If I could I would NEVER do any of these!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-420920029058517627?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/420920029058517627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=420920029058517627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/420920029058517627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/420920029058517627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/never.html' title='Never'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-1933973881445340718</id><published>2008-10-11T17:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T17:37:44.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework Poems</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://a.abcnews.com/images/Technology/pd_darkness_071029_ms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://a.abcnews.com/images/Technology/pd_darkness_071029_ms.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_d_y4yjx_R2o/SM4E1o-qBtI/AAAAAAAAMeI/-GjxOZLbhwg/P6271300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_d_y4yjx_R2o/SM4E1o-qBtI/AAAAAAAAMeI/-GjxOZLbhwg/P6271300.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;wanted to stay unknown and alone.&lt;br /&gt;In the darkness of her heart&lt;br /&gt;every nightmarish hour of her life.&lt;br /&gt;Because she was alone now and forevermore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your shadow&lt;br /&gt;follows you to the edge of the galaxy.&lt;br /&gt;As it walks right behind you&lt;br /&gt;When the light beams strike you.&lt;br /&gt;Because you are the shadow and it is the being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Life&lt;br /&gt;Soulful, useful&lt;br /&gt;Ever doing, searching, pondering&lt;br /&gt;People, Earth, grave, corpse&lt;br /&gt;Rotting, decomposing, haunting&lt;br /&gt;Soulless, ever resting&lt;br /&gt;Dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-1933973881445340718?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/1933973881445340718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=1933973881445340718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/1933973881445340718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/1933973881445340718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/homework-poems.html' title='Homework Poems'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_d_y4yjx_R2o/SM4E1o-qBtI/AAAAAAAAMeI/-GjxOZLbhwg/s72-c/P6271300.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5441001854314064300</id><published>2008-10-11T17:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T17:38:14.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freewebs.com/solitarywildchild/ACE0CDE6EA986A4888F504B7CD625.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; CURSOR: pointer" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.freewebs.com/solitarywildchild/ACE0CDE6EA986A4888F504B7CD625.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life(existence) is like a leaves blowing in the wind; the slightest gale of wind can lower or rise us. But all leaves fall; because all things end. That is what we must accept in our time of flowing.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.freewebs.com/solitarywildchild/ACE0CDE6EA986A4888F504B7CD625.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: pointer" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.freewebs.com/solitarywildchild/ACE0CDE6EA986A4888F504B7CD625.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5441001854314064300?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5441001854314064300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5441001854314064300' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5441001854314064300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5441001854314064300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/leaves.html' title='Leaves'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-883038065659099782</id><published>2008-10-11T16:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T17:02:03.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Half of a Poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.choosinghealth.org.uk/Jane%20R%20Images/S_Ripple.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.choosinghealth.org.uk/Jane%20R%20Images/S_Ripple.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I understand that I do not think like most human beings.&lt;br /&gt;I say, but am never truly heard.&lt;br /&gt;I dream that some day I alone could change the face of the world.&lt;br /&gt;I hope I can succeed.&lt;br /&gt;I am an echo which calls but is never heard, forcing my voice to never&lt;br /&gt;reach its destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this is only half of my poem, I am still looking for the other half.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-883038065659099782?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/883038065659099782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=883038065659099782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/883038065659099782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/883038065659099782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/half-of-poem.html' title='Half of a Poem'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5830864508141925741</id><published>2008-10-11T15:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T16:02:28.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life (one)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.annieb-art.co.uk/dancing-water-spirits.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.annieb-art.co.uk/dancing-water-spirits.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who does life belong to the living or the immortal, who has never lived. Do they live?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5830864508141925741?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5830864508141925741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5830864508141925741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5830864508141925741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5830864508141925741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/life-one.html' title='Life (one)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-1866173655926901559</id><published>2008-10-10T21:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T21:46:46.217-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pharses(one)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.totalwallpapers.com/3d/wallpapers/soul-existence.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.totalwallpapers.com/3d/wallpapers/soul-existence.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The truth is sometimes painful, and a saving thing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Facts are always there the just need to be known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Existence is like having an infinte amount of chapters of in book with no beginning or ending.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only the cat knows how it gets to you. You only know when its there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-1866173655926901559?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/1866173655926901559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=1866173655926901559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/1866173655926901559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/1866173655926901559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/pharsesone.html' title='Pharses(one)'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5058475865078753496</id><published>2008-10-10T20:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T20:59:51.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Forms of Pain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farthel.files.wordpress.com/2007/09/pain-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://farthel.files.wordpress.com/2007/09/pain-2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pleasure is a form of pain. Pain is a suffering in some type that echoes louder than any love or pleasure could bring. Soundlessly deafening all pleasurable moments. Pleasure encourages, the body to indulge in slightly different acts of pain. Which in reality causes only pain, such as cutting ones hand with a knife will create the same amount of "pleasure" as holding someones hands dear to you. To simply it is a feeling which affects the mind and body. Equally the same but almost entirely different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;XxJamberxX&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;December 14, 2007&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5058475865078753496?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5058475865078753496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5058475865078753496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5058475865078753496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5058475865078753496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/forms-of-pain.html' title='Forms of Pain'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-7182443830299122874</id><published>2008-10-10T20:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T21:36:24.867-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The true aspects of people</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.authorsden.com/adstorage/13724/void.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.authorsden.com/adstorage/13724/void.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Let yourself come to hear the whisper of their words. The whisper of true words. The cruelty,hatred ,and forgiveness of their words. To say, their dieing words. The words that they shall forget that they have spoken, and the words that you will remember to your grave.&lt;br /&gt;    Is all life not sacred to you. Are you a forgiver, or a forgotter? Or just another drop of dew in a vast ocean of wasted verbal calls of breath? What are we to you?... Are we even anything at all. Compared to the open blackness of the sky. Anything to the other worlds that lay out there with life, or were we always the center of attention.&lt;br /&gt;    Do your wild passions lead you away from the light. The stakes are higher with more power at will. But who cause the sufferings and wickedness but the powerful...huh? Are you a thinker or an ignorant, the thinkers were once the ignorant, but the ignorant was never the thinker.&lt;br /&gt;    When you look out the window each morning... Do you see it growing. The ignorant and stupidity are starting to uprise. As they grow, the intelligent, and sleek numbers dwindle. Can you not see each serious step we take until you reach the dark end of the sidewalk. Soon the thinkers will disappear. Caused by the ignorance of of narrow-minded people.&lt;br /&gt;    We were once honored for our knowledge and are now threatened for it. Is there nothing left to gain? Wonder this; How far will you dig until there is nothing to see on the surface, we will do nothing but watch... Until the world is in your hands. What or shall all life evaporate. Us humans hold the key of life to the door of death. Will you open the door? And unleash a plague of extinction?&lt;br /&gt;    You may chase to its death. But what would you do when catches up with you. Your life will be their's, along with all their sins and slaughter. And all of yours...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-7182443830299122874?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/7182443830299122874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=7182443830299122874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/7182443830299122874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/7182443830299122874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/true-aspects-of-people.html' title='The true aspects of people'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2825218908260582566.post-5301297512466649156</id><published>2008-10-06T15:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T16:13:14.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello World</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;October 6, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hello &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;World&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   This is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;xJamberx&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. What a wonderful site that I stumbled upon, while searching through the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    For starters I'm thirteen years old (or at least when I wrote this). I live in an unimportant town, in Illinois. Not many intersecting things happen where I live. My school is slow (or at least the kids in it.) I usually do poetry, writing stuff (like this :p), drawing, and thinking. This maybe the only thing on the internet that you'll find out about me. I'm so invisible the world doesn't know I exist (Yet). Hopefully with this site I'll change that and share all my perspectives with the world (or most, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the world's not ready for every thing I think&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2825218908260582566-5301297512466649156?l=jamberwave.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/feeds/5301297512466649156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2825218908260582566&amp;postID=5301297512466649156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5301297512466649156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2825218908260582566/posts/default/5301297512466649156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamberwave.blogspot.com/2008/10/hello-world.html' title='Hello World'/><author><name>XxJamberxX</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14887581611241778037</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NDx-o7q9Pcw/SxWKhzUXWsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/ka3c0B6xD1k/S220/gothic+moon+girl.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
