Facebook Note: A Note Wherein the Content Is Almost Shorter than the Title Is, Because I Feel that You Are More Likely to Read it Like This

Written and published to Facebook on October 4th, 2012

I just want to heal the world.

You know, the people, Mother Earth, all of it.

Is that too much to ask?

Facebook Note: Days Like These

Written and published to Facebook on September 4th, 2012

Author's Note: I was heavily considering not copying this over to my blog. As I said before I started doing this, I don't really want to make this particular blog be about me as a person; whatever story I want to tell through this ongoing amalgamation of words isn't the story of my life. I want to tell a story more of what I learn, and while I do include some personal experience, that's not the focus here. Unlike my fictional stories that I like to make focus on the characters themselves (sometimes even more than the plot), this is a story where I want you to concentrate on the themes and truths that you glean from the words.

This Note tells of a personal story. I wasn't sure about bringing this into my blog. But after thinking about it, I see that I was in the process of learning some things, and those things are worth sharing. Two of them that I will give away to you right now: It's not enough to live your dream, because you might find out that the dream isn't what you intended it to be (I came up with that idea before I ever watched the movie Tangled); and that pity is not the best technique for helping someone to heal emotionally.

Anything more than that is what you will see for yourself.

Sometimes, I have to write a Note like this one. I don't know whether I'll keep it, but I have to say it right now.

You see, sometimes you have to dispense with the word games, with the elaborate magniloquence, and the poetic structure that you try to create when you write. Sometimes you need to stop worrying about cadence and grammatical perfection and malapropisms. Sometimes you need to stop hiding behind poems or "fictional narratives," which means anything from a fable with a moral in it to a story that has a theme or metaphor to a possible story about the real future.

On days like these, sometimes you just have to open up and be honest.

Facebook Note: Choosing True Colours

Written and published to Facebook on July 30th, 2012

Author's Note: At first it might look like there are religious overtones in this poem, as there are in a lot of my poetry and other things that I write. However, I didn't want that to be the only possible interpretation. You could just as easily apply this to Romeo and Juliet, now that I consider it.

An author by the name of John Green once answered the question of debates between religious and non-religious people by saying that the debates which take place about the source of revelation is not very interesting, but that what we choose to do in response to these revelations is indeed a question that should interest us all.

While I still believe that the question of source of revelation is also a question that we ought to consider, even so I agree: what we choose to do in response to the revelations is just as important. So, remember that when you read this.

When the battle-lines are drawn

When we gouge our scars in sand

And the neutral ground's withdrawn

On whose side shall you stand?

Does your blood beat by your heart,

Or in rebellion bleed?

When we rule in extreme

And we hop the sharpened fence

When it needs be "us or them"

Will you hiss and shout offense?

Does your mind your course impart,

Or is it heart you heed?

When we our true colours shine

When we're proudly painted true

When we bear out true design

Will you be red, but claim blue?

So in your fight of mind and heart,

You know not which should lead?

When you're called to smite your ilk

For the standard that you fly

When you must choose blood or milk -

Must friends or kin now die?

I'd grant you fairer journey's chart,

If I thought that you would read

When we draw the battle lines

And shield our hallowed ground

I know my side, but as for thine,

In which array will you be found?

To heed true spirit is an art.

And revelation is what you need.

- [TAB III]

Picture by Mizth @deviantart.com

Facebook Note: Ye Olden Poetria

Written and published to Facebook on July 17th, 2012

Author's Note: Some of the references made here will not make sense, as you people (or person; can I kid myself into saying that I'll receive hits from more than one person on this?) are not the originally intended audience. For one, I mention "the 20 of you who raised your hands" in the first paragraph, and that was referring to all of the people out of all my Facebook friends who had ever read anything which I had written onto Facebook Notes. I think that 20 was an optimistic count.

For another thing, I mention "my other poems," and tell people to check out some of the other ones that I had written onto the same Notes. Well, I haven't included all of them here, and I will probably keep it that way. There is one specific poem that I mention called "Chemeone, id est Scorchfrost" which you will not be able to find here. That one is largely personal by nature. And besides, the last line of the poem is my full name, something that I don't think any of you few readers out here need to know. Don't worry about it, though; it's not important to know that.

You will see one further note beside the poem that it explains. Other than that, carry on.

So, has anybody out there ever read one of my poems?

Ok, now the 20 of you who raised your hands, you'll have some context for what this is about. For the rest of you, you might want to take a look at a poem I wrote in recent years so you get an idea about my style of writing poetry. Well, maybe check a few, since I've experimented with different things and once you've read a few you can get a general idea. They should be here in the Facebook Notes, somewhere. In fact, I think I'll make a page break here so you can go do that if you really want to.

Facebook Note: A Weather Eye - Poem Version

Written and published to Facebook on November 21st, 2011

Author's Note: This is the main reason that I find it at all important that you read the prose version of this same thing. It's a few posts down here, and it's called "Facebook Note: A Weather Eye."
Update: I thought about it, and realized that other post isn't necessary for you to understand this one. So, I took it down. You should be able to read this poem just fine without it, though.

Imagine a place in the "yonder"

As infinity flaunts its bright guise

First, hark! Behold; a sight fonder

Than treasure will rise to your eyes

Those lanterns of mariners shimmer...

The gems of that crown all aglow

To all in the galaxy they glimmer

They slash through the darkness below

Facebook Note: Dear Zynga

Written and published to Facebook on November 1st, 2011

Author's Note: This was a little bit more relevant at the time that it was written, if you can call it relevant at all; people eventually stopped playing so many of the Zynga games, but it wasn't because they listened to someone like me about the points that I made here. They only left because they got bored. 

That's how it works, isn't it? All the masses care about is that they are being entertained. If that's so, you should probably move along and not read what I have to say; my ultimate objective is never to entertain you. Not that I won't, but there's more to it than that. (It's like I'm saying, "In the end I want you to eat your carrots. That's not to say that I won't give you carrots cooked in sugar and butter, but still... eat your carrots.)

The following is a letter that I have not sent before, but I almost think I should have.

Dear Zynga,

I hope you are happy, now. Are you aware of the great accomplishments that you can now claim? You've succeeded where the great conquerors - from Nimrod to Nebuchadnezzar, from Alexander the Great to Napoleon, From Caesar to Hitler - have all failed. You have fulfilled your mission with more effectiveness than the fabled "I Love You" bug (do any kids born after the 90's remember that?), and without the terror that the alleged Y2K bug (this is really making me feel old; there are children who have never even heard of that) sparked among Internet users everywhere. Pat yourselves on the back, people of Zynga, and hand out congratulations to your designers; you have just overcome the glaring majority of humanity, and come the closest I have ever seen to world conquest. Well, maybe you're tied for first with Wal-Mart. Or TV in general.

Facebook Note: Based on a True Status

Written and published to Facebook on October 5th, 2011

Hi, guys.

As you might have seen, recently I was on Facebook during a time when I intended to be somewhere else (the day was something like September 26th). I wrote a peculiar status as proof.

I didn't skip out on my duty intentionally; it was a long and exhausting night when it happened, and as I write this out I can clearly recall that feeling, that emotion which was more deep-seated than our simple interpretations of happiness, sorrow, irritation, or desire. This one belonged more with livid rage, depression, euphoria, and pleasure in its basest form.

For reasons that I will not elaborate on at this time, that night I was suddenly overcome by something that I didn't recognize. It may in fact have been an attack of anxiety. In the panic-stricken state I found myself immersed in, I found a desperation that I can relate to from earlier times and experiences that ran parallel to this one, and it translated into one thought in my mind: run for it. Unable to cope with that ice that so nearly flirted with absolute zero, I did just that. Not that I thought that physically running would alleviate the shuddering gasps forming in my lungs; one of the problems with emotional upheaval is that I find my physical abilities hindered. Worse than fatigue - even in a point of exhaustion, wherein you "hit the wall" between the time your body stops burning carbohydrates and begins to burn fats - is discouragement. When some sort of non-physical virus attacks me, it drains something much worse than calories. Infinitely worse than being iron or vitamin deficient is being hope deficient.

Facebook Note: Unpaired Electron

Written and published to Facebook on June 28th, 2011

Author's Note: Wow. I wrote a poem about subatomic particles. This was about the extent of my understanding after having taken high school chemistry and physics, some years earlier. What we had learned about electrons' tendency to travel in pairs (at least, according to the atom model that we were using at the time) struck me as significant, as it seemed similar to the way that people were in their relationships. I also found it fitting to make an allusion to "free radicals" when explaining why it's better not to let go of loners and leave them to themselves.

If you can't tell from reading the poem itself, I was kind of despondent while I was writing it. Anyways, here it is.

I haven't been writing much of anything recently, least of all any poems.

But today, I think I need to stop sculpting for a day; it's time to allow myself to bleed. After all, Five For Fighting says that even heroes have that right. If heroes have that right, then I should have it all the more. Onwards, press onwards, and all that good stuff.

***

A little electron,

A molecular bit

Continued his course on

Perpetual orbit

He noticed that others,

Electrons like he was

Would travel together

Circling the nucleus

Facebook Note: I Have Learned the Healer's Art

Written [mostly] on February 11th, 2011, and published to Facebook on February 13th, 2011

Author's Note: You can see, right from the start, that this is about a poem I wrote. If you want to see that, scroll down for a while. But the prose that comes before it is actually of some value. So, if you're patient and read both, you may appreciate it. I know I will. :)

Hey, here is a flash of news, not as brilliant as lightning, not as new as a current event that you would see on professional news, but it is a news flash nonetheless. I finally finished writing a poem that I feel right about!

I've been having this horrible writer's block for the last two months or so. Heck, who am I kidding? You could say that I've had this block since I came home from my mission, in Salt Lake City; somehow, things just haven't flowed the same way that they used to. It's not possible - let alone easy - to pick up an old voice that doesn't belong to me anymore, to re-assume the driver's seat with the mirrors adjusted to different angles than will accommodate me now. It's like I'm picking up my sword after having been using a different weapon for two years, and all the muscle memories in my hands and arms don't feel the same anymore. I'm a stranger in a foreign world that I used to call my home.

So... do you know what kind of a breakthrough it is that I've been able to forge out a poem that satisfies me?! We have progress, captain!!! It's approaching a future lift-off! Yes, [TAB III]... because poems regularly lift off of the ground and take flight, slicing the sky like a firebrand to slash away at the skyscape...

Facebook Note: Placentero nos es trabajar - but in English!

Written and published to Facebook on November 12th, 2010

Author's Note: I feel that I have to say this a lot - what you came for is probably the poem (or, in this case, song). To find it, scroll down towards the bottom of the post. Or just read your way there. Either way is fine with me.

Facebook Note: All that I Am, I Owe to Potential

Published to Facebook on August 5th, 2008; written a few days prior

Author's Notes, June 4th, 2015: First, I would like to agree with my past self: this kid is such an egomaniac, it's not even funny. The difference is, back then I said that ironically - saying it to show that I believed the complete opposite - but today, almost seven years later, I mean it. Listening to my teenage self really annoys me. (I'm not still that conceited, am I?) I'm only leaving this post up because apparently this post was about three times as popular as most of my other old blog posts. Not that that's saying much.

I would also like to point out a few things about formatting. For one thing, I took it on myself to fix the spacing between paragraphs - which I didn't do on the original sheets of loose leaf paper - and I thought I should actually divide most of the paragraphs. It should be a little easier to read now.
As for the random numbers that you'll see throughout this, sorry about that. When I wrote this on Facebook, those numbers appeared in superscript, like this ². They were meant to point to footnotes, which are still at the bottom of the Note. I would fix the numbers, but as far as I know, the only way to make superscript numbers is by entering an Alt code, and I don't know the codes for numbers higher than three. So, you'll just have to bear with it until I think of a better solution.

And with that, I'll leave you to read.

*******

Holy cow, eh. This kid is such an ego-maniac, it's not even funny.

...Wait, actually, it is kind of funny! Ha ha ha ha ha! This idea just came to me as I was sitting in a very wonderful Chevrolet Venture [minivan]. See, here was me, writing inside of it. Hi, pueblo! Sorry; I'm still trying to work on my Spanish. But anyway, I also felt like working on my English, incidentally the name of a class I have come to dearly miss in the past 13 months. And... hang on...

I was just going to explain how this idea came to me, but all of a sudden the highway has got really bumpy; you have to love Alberta Infrastructure! Let's hope some of British Columbia is better. (Paying no attention to the fact that now I hear there's been a major rock slide, which has now completely blocked off the highway...) In the meantime, I'll pretend it's only turbulence. Now... where was I? I mean, besides bouncing along in a van determined to be in action for the rest of the said Saturday.

Facebook Note: High Level Bridge on Canada Day

Written on July 1st, 2008; published to Facebook on July 8th, 2008

Author's Note: There's a poem down there at the bottom of this Note. That's probably the part you're looking for. I just thought I'd let you know.

Ah, beauty, eh? July 1st, it's always a great day, if you're from Canada! Even more so if you are in the country at the time... well, as has always been the case with me, I was! And it was really awesome. I mean, I could tag... I forget how many of you, because you were all there. Yeah, thanks to Spencer and Brenda specifically, for giving the world another chance to re-live how insane, arbitrary, and stupid I can be. I hope that video doesn't surface at the wrong time...

But that wasn't the only thing I was doing! No, I was having a really good day on July 1st, 2008. Even if I did get lost, and have to risk my car being towed, and try to make my bike do something that any human contortionist - or even a pretzel, for that matter - would be proud of. And even if I did fall off of a wall a few times... and that sort of thing.

Facebook Note: A Song of Quiet

Written in 2007 or 2008; published to Facebook on June 25th, 2008

I'm on a roll, eh! Third note in two days... maybe I'm just doing this to distract myself from waiting for my mission call, which is already two days late. Yeah.

Well, anyway, that poem I quoted in my talk, here is the complete version of it. Maybe it can inspire you today. Or some other such funkiness. Here you go.

Perhaps, correct would be the time

To smite again the dark with rhyme

I'll call again that poet dear;

Within my mind - he yet dwells here.

...Speak, my friend, that we may be blessed.

"I hear that; it shall be done.

One more try - this should be fun.

Too rarely now, are their hearts caressed.

Facebook Note: Open Hearts Talk

Delivered on June 15th, 2008; published to Facebook on June 24th, 2008

Y'know, I have this thing for using titles with double meaning. Does that denote a touch of schizophrenia? ...Er, if nothing else that I've done has caused you to suspect just that, then I suppose I should be safe. Yeah.

So, I gave a talk in church, on June 15th, 2008. Apparently it was one that some of you listened to! Yay, I didn't put you to sleep! As for the rest of you who didn't hear me, sorry; I don't have any sleeping aids here. Not unless you read this at 11:30 or so, and try reading it without (or with, as your case may be) prescription reading glasses. That should help, or at least give you eyestrain.

Facebook Note: Freehand - Lefty's Farewell

Written in June 2007, published to Facebook on March 26th, 2008.

Author's Note: This was an assignment for my high school English class. I did actually enjoy writing this, which, as I've said elsewhere, makes this the only poem that I was assigned to write but still enjoyed.
I think that if I were to write this poem again today, I would make it sound better. But I'll leave it as is. I hope you enjoy it.

What doth ascend to this heart's mind, in this, the final of hours?

Who shall ascend to glory to find, or whom the one that cowers?

O ye craven watchmen,

Canst ye walk upon the paths I tread?

For I'd like to know you'd courage grasp, ably to walk amongst the dead.

Whilst this last road, which I last take, will I take it now alone?

Haven't ye light within thy souls, or e'en faith in flesh and bone?

'Tis true I know not where I fly...

Nay, that would be false.

For I am sure of my ending nigh,

But unsurely grope my journey's halts.

Facebook Note: [untitled poem]

Written in 2007, published to Facebook on March 26th, 2008

What manner of fiendish man

Believes it solely the weak who can

Shed precious teardrops -

Pearls from the heart?

Blind and gormless, now I say

Are those who hold their hurts at bay

And mock the souls

Whose anguish freely impart

Take this knowledge from one who knows

Whom is attacked by friends with foes

It needs strength to cry;

'Tis easier to bleed.

Violence is not strength; 'tis weak

Such holds conversely to the meek

Possessing virtue

A heart doth outlet need.

Yet I hope you know just evil floods

Or deepest wounds do not draw blood

They rather shed tears;

No mortal wound this be

Flesh be weak, and blood is chill

But valiant souls they cannot kill

Yet pain they feel

And most exceedingly

Rememberest thou the Man who gave

Our triumph over sin and grave

For though the greatest,

Our Brother too could weep

Some in sorrow, oft in love,

And some in thanks to God above

In His great flock

He cares for every sheep.

So I make the Lord my arm

I'll brave the blows, endure the harm

And if he asks it,

In turn for him I'll die

But now's the day I spread His light

And persevere to fight good fights

And as long as I can hurt

Or love, I'll cry.

- TAB III

Facebook Note: Thought Process

Written and published to Facebook on March 17th, 2008. It was my first time using Notes on Facebook. (It shows, doesn't it?) Good times.

Gosh, I had to go and work myself into a literary corner like that. Not that the title isn't open-ended or anything, but this happens to be a topic that I don't really excel at looking into.

You see, I just added this application, thinking that it would be a good outlet for all the stuff that I keep welling up inside of me, and I don't mean like your run of the mill well that Timmy keeps falling into, and Lassie ever faithfully keeps pulling him out of somehow or other. No, my "thought wells" are more like those chasms that were once created after people started to drill for oil; those empty chambers that descended deep into the earth's crust as well as millions of years, eras back through history of this earth.

I was going somewhere with this, right?

To Tasha, in Memoriam

She's gone.

She left on May 17th, 2012 at 4:25 PM, Mountain Standard Time. Now, if anybody asks me why I look like I've just lost my best friend, that's because I just did.

Farewell to a Friend

There's one scene from the movie I Am Legend that I still know by name.

In most DVDs, you can go to the scene selection and find that the scenes of the movie are either numbered or titled. In this movie, they opted for titles instead of numbers. That was one of the reasons that this scene has stuck in my mind for so long, after seeing the movie so long ago. The second reason is that it is widely considered to be the saddest scene in the whole movie. The third is that it reflected a loss, one of the only losses that I knew for sure was going to enter into my life, right from the time that I met her.

"Farewell to a Friend" was the title of the scene where the main character, Robert Neville, has only a tiny, fleeting chance to save his best and only remaining friend - his dog. His dog, Sam, had been bitten by some infected zombie-like dogs, and there were only two things that would happen if he couldn't cure her: she would die, or she would become an infected zombie-dog herself and he would have to kill her anyways. In his heart, I think that he knew that the chances of saving his beloved companion were next to none, so in Sam's final moments he held her close. Then, you don't see it, but he had to strangle her to keep her from attacking him. I think he also did it to ease her final moments of life.

When she does breathe out her final breath, when life leaves her body... you can see the pain on the face of her friend. The truth of what happened was that he did all that he could to keep her safe and well, but in the end she had to die, and he had to be the one to bring death to her. The truth, then, was that it wasn't his fault. He probably didn't see it that way, though. He probably blamed himself about that for a while, if not the completely random injustice of the world. And I'm sure that either way it hurt the whole time.

...I kind of feel the same way.

My best friend who is on the earth right now is a yellow Labrador retriever. Her full given name is Tasha Holly Harriet [surname]. As I am writing this right now on May 15th, 2012, she is experiencing her final day of life. In order to ease her pain, she needs to leave this life, and we need to be the ones to do it.