A Few Brilliant Ideas...

So, I failed the blog challenge, but I was not alone in this endeavor and where I failed, others succeeded. A congratulations to all those who persevered in their writing and content creation. I'm so proud of you guys. And to all my friends who persevered, even if only for a few days, thank you for your desire to create. I have been blessed, encouraged, excited, sorrowful, and laughing while reading your posts. I've gone back and read some of them more than once. God has and will continue to use your gifts. Keep on doin' what you're doin'. Don't let the absence of the Blog Challenge keep you from writing. I also wanted to point out of my friends who completed the equivalent of the Blog Challenge without even anyone knowing, Mr. Dan Lee. You can see his drawings for this month over on his Facebook page.

NOW. ON TO OUR VICTORS.

They stood in the square, laughing. The love park sign stood before them.

"Let's take a picture in front of the Love Park statue!" Reinaldo began to walk over toward the red letters, pulling out his phone.

"I've got this," Jeremy whipped out his phone.

"Oh this again, " Mary muttered, hunching her shoulders to keep the cold air out of her warm jacket. "I haven't seen you put that thing down since you got it."

"Well it IS a Nokia Lumia 1020," Jeremy's head had that upward tilt to it. Kara snorted, shoving Jeremy toward the sculpture.

"Come on doofus. Let's take pictures." The group huddled in front of the sculpture in the cold, still evening. Kara smiled, warmed by the freedom of spending time with her friends."I'm so glad I don't have school tomorrow." A light flashed and the group reeled back.

"What the heck. Come on Jeremy!" Reinaldo grabbed Jeremy, picking him up without notice. Jeremy yipped, legs flailing in the air. Kara and Mary laughed while Jeremy broke out of Reinaldo's grasp and tackled him. A grin flashed from Reinaldo while the two of them rolled around on the ground.

"Guys... Come on." Mary was shivering now. Kara walked over and hugged Mary, sharing her warmth.

"Look!" Reinaldo shouted from somewhere beneath Jeremy. "It's snowing!" Small flakes of snow had begun drifting down from the sky, landing gently on Kara's jacket.

"Unnghhh, not more snow," Mary's face scrunched up, as she attempted to retreat deeper into her heavy jacket.

"Come on Mary," Jeremy said, rolling off Reinaldo onto his feet. Before they knew it, he had his tongue out, running around in circles trying to catch the snowflakes.

"You look like a little kid," Mary noted, but she had started to smile again.

Jeremy paused and sauntered over, "Isn't it beautiful? I love it when fresh snow falls on the ground in a pure white. It's like the world is being born again, like we're being given a clean slate or something. And the way it sparkles when it catches the light. It's so pretty."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Kara said. "I mean, I think the cold is totally worth it if you get to see the snow." She held out her hand, catching the little presents from the sky in her hand.

"I don't really care," Reinaldo said. "It doesn't really matter to me."

"It wouldn't." Mary threw her hands up, "You're so warm blooded that you don't even notice, you lucky bum."

"Yeah, well you have other reasons for living in the city, I live here because I actually like it," Jeremy said, grinning.

"Yeah, like school. Speaking of which, I do have homework I need to do. Can we get on with taking these pictures? It's freezing out here." The group gathered around her, putting on their best smiles for the cellphone.

--------------------

Love Park - Philadelphia

When I started this blog challenge I had high hopes for writing lots of creative fiction. I really was looking forward into pouring myself into my writing, but as time went on, it never really happened. I was so excited to do that when I started. So what happened?

It's not like I don't want to do it. I do, just as much as I did then. Life just gets in the way. In the beginning I was going strong, but I started running out of stamina. Literally. I was up past midnight every night of that first week, writing, which was great in terms of creation, but took a toll on me during the day at work. I didn't want that to happen, so I started trying to write faster, earlier. This is great in theory, but it turned out that I ended up writing things that are a lot less complete. I wanted to create fiction, but my fiction takes time to cultivate and explore. This is something I'm not able to do in a blog format, sadly. I could write the entire story and post bit by bit, but at that point, you might as well post the entire thing.

So it is with a heavy heart I resign my desire to write piece-by-piece fiction via my blog. This is by no means a resignation of writing fiction. I will write fiction, but it has to be long term with a project style to it. I need to see the big picture before I post a piece. I can work on setting "scenes," emotions, settings, and feelings with my blog. This is something I've seen my friend Dara Hayes do over at Ink and Imagination, and something I feel might be beneficial to practice. If you haven't read her blog yet, do that. It'll inspire and captivate you.

Something you guys may or may not know is that I really want to write a fantasy novel. I've wanted to for years. I want to do this, but I always forget about it, or grow too discontent with what I've already written. I need you guys to hold me accountable to this vision and desire though. I'm not strong or focused enough to make it happen by myself. I need you all to come with me.

My fiction isn't dead, it's merely waiting for the right moment to awake,

I played it again. Why? Because it's so addictive. That adrenaline rush man. Enjoy? Or not, I guess. xD

I chopped this one up, so it's a bit shorter and has less rambling.

So I forgot to post yesterday, which is so depressing because I was literally part way through making another Slender reaction video when someone informed of the time, and I realized I was going to miss an Eagle Scout ceremony for one of my besties. Needless to say, I am disappointed by my failure. But really, I would have remembered after the ceremony if I hadn't then been persuaded to go watch the Oscars.

* raises fist to sky * Curse you Oscars and your glamorous celebrities!



In any case, unlike most people, it's not like just because I lost I'm going to stop posting or anything. That's no fun. I am not a quitter. Forgetful, distracted, busy, yes I am all of these things, but as the phrase goes around my household: "A Parris never quits!"

So I gotta say, the Oscars were quite enjoyable if you guys missed out. Let me explain... No, there is too much. Let me sum up."

Grand Budapest Hotel (apparently inappropriate movie) won approximately a million Oscars.

Neil Patrick Harris showed up in his underwear with uhh.... Yeah, we'll just leave that at that.

Lady Gaga kicked butt with her musical rendition of the songs from Mary Poppins. Her voice is gorgeous when she's not stuttering the word poker, and then Julie Andrews came on stage and warmed my heart. Because, she's Julie Andrews. <3 <3 <3

Whiplash one the next most amount of awards.

People that I don't really care about won the actresses and actors awards.

Birdman won best motion picture (the best award like ever or something).

Oh, and Neil + magic with a briefcase and OH MY GOODNESS JOHN TRAVOLTA TOUCHED IDINA MENZEL'S FACE SO MUCH. You'll just have to YouTube that one.

Pretty sure that I would feel slightly uncomfortable watch at least 70% of these movies. I somehow managed to retain a lot of this, evening though I spent half of it only half watching while playing Settlers of Catan. I lost at Settlers when Grant did a 5 point play and pretty much blew my mind. I don't even. Anyway, all and all not a bad night, minus my forgetfulness. Sorry guys. I letcha down. I'm a bad person; I'll still be here though. Writing about things. Or making videos. Or whatever. I'll be back tomorrow.

Until then,
Adieu 

A raindrop falls on an amorphous blob.

Science cannot solve the ultimate mystery of nature. And that is because, in the last analysis, we ourselves are a part of the mystery that we are trying to solve. 

~ Max Planck 

There's something special about worship leading. Something where God gives you the grace of his Spirit and gives you a bigger heart for the people with you, for him. It's a unique experience one I haven't really found anywhere else, except perhaps in prayers of encouragement. It's not like you transform into this other super-godly-uber-being, but there is a sense of God moving through you. At least, there is for me. I don't think is true of every worship leader. It seems to me there is a sense of anointing over certain worship leaders. I have experienced this with people like Chris Tomlin at concerts as well. It wasn't the large crowds or the loud voices, but God was using him in a tangible way. All worship leaders go through dry periods, where they're left asking where God's spirit has gone. He's still there, it's just, we become so accustomed to his presence, that we forget he has a choice in the matter. It's not like he's left is entirely, for he dwells in the hearts of all those who trust in Jesus Christ, but he has removed the sense of wonder that he sometimes brings to the table that causes our hearts to gasp in awe. Or maybe it's just we're not listening properly. If I had to guess, I'd probably say it was the latter. But God uses worship leaders, no we don't physically bring people into God's presence, Jesus accomplished that task, but he does use us to remind people where they're standing. To help them listen for the word of God, the word of the Spirit, who is constantly whispering remembrances of God's faithfulness to his people. We are not indispensable, but we are useful and God has certainly used us well in generations past, today, and I'm sure will continue to do so into the future. We are after all, worship leaders. Which means we are truly seeking to be an example of what it looks like to bow down, and worship our savior.

"So. What's up?" Ryan held a steaming ceramic mug with a squirrel imprinted on it between his hands.

Lightning crackles through coils of hardened copper.
A squeak and sigh as they pull the stopper.
Green liquid flows between broken, battered lips,
the woman's hair falls as she bestows her kiss.

"Who ever said my kisses aren't magical!"
As her cackle grew heavy and dark and maniacal.
With a sweep of her arm, she throws up the lever,
causing tables to turn with the surge of the weather.

The clouds out the window were swirling so fast,
that beyond the cold chamber, wasn't heard the deep crack.

Of electricity building into a bright light
that would shatter the world in the dark of the night.

With a groan and a shift, the cadaver revived,
The eyes of the woman grew large, "It's alive!"

A woman sits by the grave and whispers quietly. She comes here often, to recount days past, discuss events of the present, and plan actions of the future.

Clenched between cold bones,
a decaying set of roses.
Petals worn by time, yet thorns still sharp.

Across his chest of faded blue,
with gold that would glint with the sunrise,
if the sunrise did indeed come.

Sometimes the earth quivers briefly,
and the petals believe just for a moment
that they heard a faint whisper groan from the mouth of their keeper.

But silence reigns over the grave
and so the man's body waits, expectantly.
The fruit of his life clasped between creaking bone.


She leans over beside the grave and whispers her traditional goodbye to her husband, kisses the gravestone, and rises walking away.

The stone will hold the words for him.

"Until we meet again, my love."

I went to a Valentine's Formal which was super fun. We had dancing and dinner up at the Sky View facility at Drexel. This is just one picture from the evening.

Gush gush gush.

Yayaya.

Gush gush gush.

Having just about gotten up to date with Castle, I was reading through my Facebook when I stumbled across one of my Facebook friends saying something about a show called "The Librarians." Needless to say, the title intrigued me, so I decided to look it up.

Turns out, this show is based on King Arthur/Merlin styled magic based on a group of magic users/librarians who call themselves guardians. It's super interesting conceptually, and I've just begun to dig into it.

It's super geeky and mystical and fun and I already love it. I mean, with this concept, it'd have to be pretty awful for me not to want to watch it. The lead character is a strong female, Emma Swan styled character that knows how to take charge. They call her Colonel apparently, which just evokes Star Trek feels all over the place.

If you really look
You'll see Stevie plus no time
equals poetry.

My life appears to be interesting enough that I can just blog about things that happened to me today. WOOO.


Every Wednesday night I got out to do evangelism on Drexel's campus with other people from DSC. Tonight we're looking for people hanging around outside. We spot a group and start heading over. As we're walking over to talk to a group of complete strangers, like we're never met them before, and we're going to ask them to talk to us about their religious beliefs. MEANWHILE my friend is breathing outward heavily. I look over at him and he says, "It's a habit, I make noises like wind."
"What."
"I make noises like wind."
Oh, I heard him the first time. I was just uhh.. What is going on right now. Then later, we're walking back to the dorm, and he starts mumbling "nom nom nom" out of nowhere. I don't even.

So after that I came back home to find Shark Tank on. New flash, my dad is obsessed with reality television. This confuses me, like a lot. I can barely stand reality television, meanwhile my dad is watching people buy homes in Alaska and stuff. I don't understand the appeal of reality TV. Like not even a little bit. I'd much rather watch something with a real plot. If I want to watch unscripted silliness, that's why youtube exists. I can kind of see the challenge ones, but like shopping and people just doing their jobs... Dunno, not that interesting to me.

IN OTHER NEWS:

JAMES KIRK IS NICHOLAS DEVEREAUX FROM PRINCESS DIARIES 2. I'm watching it right now and I'm freaking out, which would be hilarious for everyone else. I just... Chris Pine <3 Apparently it was one of his first roles, which just makes me any happier. He's so good as Kirk in Star Trek. seignewirgjewrgijwgoj.

Also, there's a pun at the end of the second movie right after Mia is named queen.

"And if I may just say Princess Mia, YOU RULE!"

BA DUMP PSHHHHH. I'm really just giddy on happy-endingness right now. That's pretty much all that's going on here. giiiiidddy. Alright, enough ranting we're clearly on day 11 of the blog challenge. Enjoy my life y'all.

My heart is on the mountain,
in the cold air,
where trees grow tall.
I left it in a pile of icy dreams,
blown hard like glass, unbroken.
The sound of a steel edge cutting into the snow
haunts me from miles away.
I close my eyes and feel the wind again,
beneath my eyelids, I grow light with the sense of flight.
This piece of wood is a part of me.
I am a part of it.
We are one.

The pain and ache of rising from my failures is fading...
but the remembrance of exhilaration still flows inside of me.
That sense of drifting, feeling the earth guide you down a pathway.
The right way.

My breath flows from my open mouth
filling the air with a cloud of vapor.
Laughter and shouting surrounds me,
warmth fills me as I smile.

My eyes open and I'm sitting at my desk chair,
NF in my headphones, lines of code in front of me,
but I can still hear the sound of my heart beating miles away
in time with the sound of razor edges carving snow.

I left my heart in the mountain.

We lost Jon and Moriah ;(

So this weekend I went out to a snowy mountain to go snowboarding for the first time in my life. Now this wouldn't be that big of a deal, except that I haven't been skiing or snow-tubing either, so the closest I'd ever gotten was sledding on some hills near home.

If I have any tears left, you can have them.
Because today is not yesterday,
I've given up collecting tears,
because there are too many bottles on the wall to count now.

I only sleep to dream,
because sunlight turns to nightmares.

Only the stars knows what it's like,
to both love and fear the rise of the sun.
Because in its light we fade,
till we are gone erased by a big blue sky.

Remind me again, of the raindrops.
Remind me again, of the light.
Remind me again, of the many stars.
Remind me again, hope.

My tongue bleeds, twisted around a two-edged sword.
Hands tied. Feet broken. Heart torn.

That shooting star fell right through,
and the moment of burst has left me tattered.
There's a star shaped hole through my heart,
and a haunted look in my eyes.

When I look in the mirror, nothing.
There is no one there.

The room is empty.

I am not alone.
Because to be alone, one must be.

I am not.

And therefore, I am more alone than alone. There is no word for this.

I am nextant.

Stuck in my past,
I am no longer
Who I want to be
But who I was.
Fear cripples me
I long for peace - no

Rising
Jesus died
facing a grave
What is hope?

Remember what you have learned...
Remember what you have learned...

What is hope?
facing a grave
Jesus died
Rising.

I long for peace - no
Fear cripples me
But who I was
Who I want to be
I am no longer
Stuck in my past,

So, it feels like a lot more than 5 days has gone by, yet time defies this assumption. I accidentally prematurely posted something on my blog wemusttellthem.blogspot.com. You should check that out.

Pendulum

Air rushes through hair.
Mountains cave.
Oceans sink.
The sun burns.

In a quiet room in a house in Concord,
sits a grand father clock that has knowingly conquered.

Air rushes through hair.
Farms are cropped,
Forests chopped,
and rainbows glaze over.

The clock smiles, in the way that he always does,
keeping track of the time, in the house full of schemas.

Hours are made timeless.
Activity consumes in-activity.
Gravity falls.
And we forget.

The pendulum inside the clock swings back and forth,
and as it watches the people, it find a secret.
These people with plans and ideas and thoughts,
have no concept of time, which they practically wrought.
Without a watch on their wrist, or a clock in their home,
and even then dust grows thick as it feels its gears groan.
yet this is the way that the people must be,
unaware that they're free, self-enslaved with the key.
Giving themselves up, hiding time where they can no longer see.


So the grandfather clock pulled down deep in his gears,
and with a deep crack, Mr. Time disappeared.

Does anyone remember the 90's TV show Teletubbies? Probably wins my own personal award for the creepiest 90's TV show, which is quite an impressive feat, considering other shows like The Comfy Couch. Here are of the few things you've always known about Teletubbies but never said out loud:


1. Noo Noo is a serial killer


5. Dipsy has mad dance skills.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1E9Z0-ppTl0#t=557
This is totally why he was always my favorite. GO DIPSY, SHAKE THAT THANG.

6. The practical ramifications of having a television in your stomach are completely ignored
These creatures have television inside of their stomachs. Why do they even move? I mean with Netflix, they would never even have to move, and if they get hungry, they can change the channel to the food channel. Problem solved. There are so many creative things you do with a television stomach.

7. The sun is a baby.

Why? No one knows. I just... someone had to be on drugs to even think of this.

8. The pinwheel drug dispenser

I have a theory that this pinwheel dispenses drugs to the inhabitants of this place, leading to hallucinations such a baby-faced suns and creepy vacuum cleaners. Then their antennas capture the drugs, which are then in turn converted into TV power.

9. The show's British accents make it worth watching
Let's be honest, we really only enjoyed this show because, British people. I mean really, how can you resist the silky narrator voice? Plus, the little British children. Ahhh.

10. NBC/Comcast is EVERYWHERE...

I didn't forget to post, it's just over at platonicinterlude.blogspot.com

I forgot to add Will to the list, that has been updated. You can find his blog at: http://contemplativewhimsy.blogspot.com/. Due to my failure to remember to list his name, I gave him the very special title of Patrick Star, who is very near and dear to my heart. Also, I accept Simeon's Subchallenge. It is was a hard day one, we lost quite a few: Tirzah, Nathan, Aaron, Na'chelle, Nick. That brings our number down from 18 to 13. However, in Nick and Nathan's defense, they did tell me they planned on posting semi-regularly these next couple weeks. Allen Lai has a questionable post dated February 2nd, but I'll let it slide, because it was there when I checked at 12:30 and it's the first day. The rest of you however... Bom voyage. 

I talk to people a lot. You probably do too. This a good thing.

I can often predict what my friend and family members will say because I've spent a lot of time talking to them. I've also spent a lot of timing listening. That's how friendships are built, this communication back and forth, verbal or otherwise. People could rock climb every day, side by side, but if they never talk, they don't know each other. They're not friends.

Friends talk. Friends listen. Friends communicate.

I have a friend named Valerie Niemann who I used to go running with my freshman year of college. We talked a lot about all kinds of things and after a while she said to me, 'Stevie you're not listening to me.' At the time it was meant more jokingly, but as the joke was repeated, I became aware of how serious this really was. My statement always started, "No, I'm listening, but what the point I'm trying to make is..." Too many but's. I don't always listen. Worse, I don't always hear, or take the time to understand what people are trying to tell me. And listening is so fundamental to a good friendship. I'm super thankful for that lesson that Val taught me. So if you're reading this, thanks Val. God used you to show me how little I really did listen.

There's a repeated statement by Jesus in the book of Mark, "He who has ears let him hear." Which means some of have ears, but we're not hearing.

As I've learned how important listening is, and how vital it is to my friendships, God has taught me some of the differences between a true friendship.

Listening is certainly part of it, but there's a particular type of listening that I want to examine that defines a deeper level of friendship.

Each person is divided into two segments: the person they are and the person they want to become.

Simply put, a friend is a person who knows who you want to be, not just who you are.

It's hard for me to demonstrate what this looks like without a specific example, but the details of describing who someone I know wants to be is a very personal thing. I wouldn't feel right in explaining this without specific permission, so I'll use a dummy-case to prove my point.

I have a friend named Jake. Jake loves to play the piano, he works for Irregular Mechanics, he spends a lot of time with his girlfriend Jessie, he is emotionally unstable, and he really likes pretzels.

That's great, I know who Jake is. This might let me buy things for Jake when he's feeling down. It helps me talk to Jake because I know where he works, and so I can start conversation about his work. I even know that Jake may flip out on me because he's emotionally unstable, so I'm totally prepared for that moment.

Yet, is knowing who Jake is enough to help me care for Jake the way a real friend would?

Maybe, but I don't think so.

Knowing that Jake dreams of being a professional writer, that he wants to be the type of guy that his girlfriend can lean on for support, knowing that Jake wants to see himself grow up and stand for what he thinks is right. Without these, instead of helping Jake be who he wants to be, at best I'm doing damage control. At worst, I could actually be encouraging him away from his dreams, crushing his hopes.

We've all had that person, who doesn't really know how important something is to us, and yet tells us that we're not very good at something. It hurts, and you begin to wonder whether that person is truly your friend. Sometimes they're loving you by telling you the truth, but in many cases they say what they say out of ignorance. There are cases where the most loving thing you can do for a person is to speak unwanted to truth in their lives. But in order to do it with wisdom, you have to know who that person wants to be. Sometimes people want to be things they shouldn't, but as a true friend it becomes your responsibility to help them avoid those things, rather than get them.


I talk a lot, and I've been learning how to listen. I want to know who you want to be, friends. I want to tell you who I want to be. Together, maybe we can help each other become those people, or stop each other from becoming the people we ought not be.

Christian, together, maybe we can become a little bit more like Christ, because that's ultimately who we want to be like, but we're complex creatures with many troubles and needs, and it's beautiful.

Let's be friends, shall we?