do it because it fuels you, even when it cannot feed you
do it because it heals you, even when it cannot help you
do it because it fills your heart, even when your pockets are empty
do it because it lifts you up in a world where all seems dim and heavy
do it because it makes you happy, even when it cannot make you rich
do it because it waters the soil in which your growth begins
do it because it makes you happy, even when it cannot make you cash
do it because the tallest trees grow towards the sunniest path
do it while you are hungry
do it while you are hopeless
do it while you are broken
and do it while you have hurt unspoken
do it even when you are unheard
and even when you are unseen
do it because you were born to create, and live, and learn, and dream.
Re: your query
Dear whoever,
As I read your query letter I wept. What moved me was a sudden loss of faith in the entire writing process...and the human condition in general. You seem to have swung so low that I imagine you can see up your entire ass. Is it really possible to make something like genocide--as you stated--"a riotous romp of hilarity that puts our meaningless lives in perspective." Then, I wondered if I hated you simply because I didn't like what I was hearing or because, instead, you are bankrupt of all humanity, compassion, or any semblance of propriety in a civilized society. Have you, like the rest of us, grown extra convolutions around your limbic system to police those caveman urges that are championed in your work? Apparently not. You are your own limbic system incarnate. You are pre-civilization, antediluvian, and soulless.
The reason I wept is that there is such a person as you, capable of sending a person like me, a query like that. Perhaps I'm particular, but I don't feel you're a good fit if you've lost your fucking mind. Not only will your work not sell, it will be placed on the Internet as a caveat on what to avoid when writing a query--no, it will be prominently displayed in the "Crimes Against Humanity" Hall of Fame as the very Anti-Christ of query examples. I take your work, your sentiments, and your whole raison d'être and I purposely implement a bulimic digital maneuver upon it. I want you to die--no, I want you dead--no, I want you to have been dead for centuries--no, I want you to die all of those deaths at the same time. In fact, just fuck you. In further fact, in the words of John Irving, "Fuck you to death!" This is a very subjective business, and other agents may think differently.
In conclusion, may you enter Hell forthwith, even before you die. And just to be clear, I didn't like your query and decline to represent you.
Stronger letter to follow.
Paw Prints on my Heart
It has been just over a year
Since my Tia girl was near
Miss that sweet face, sweet soul
Loved you so much
I know you had to go
No more pain but many tears
May be gone but not forgotten
In my heart always.
Fast forward to now
Was not sure if was ready
When I met you
Had not held any kitty for over a year
But that sweet face, sweet boy
Just held you and knew
I held back a year or two
The cuddles & making muffins
Made the choice right then
Welcome to the family Loki
hempcrete.
build buildings that sequester more carbon than they release. no more relying on foreign material to build our homes - a perfectly safe, up to code building can be designed from hempcrete and recycled plastic beams.
farmers will rotate their crop for one season and receive payment based on their yield of hemp. this will benefit the farmer, as hemp has been shown to regenerate soil in the areas it was grown, meaning the damage done from years of big ag could start to be remediated. the hemp is then processed into a concrete block. these concrete blocks are sturdy, but need support - where the use of recycled plastic material comes into play.
the hempcrete sequesters carbon during the hemp growth cycle, and even continues to sequester carbon for up to 100 years as a concrete mix.
the use of second life plastic means the streets will be cleaned up.
whats your bid?
Healing
Healing is messy
It’s depression
It’s anxiety
It’s insecurity
It’s constant fear and doubt
It’s vulnerability
BUT...
Healing is beautiful
It’s growth
It’s confidence
It’s a weight lifted from your shoulders
It’s FREEING
It’s courage
It’s giving yourself permission to let go of the burdens
It’s all the things you want it to be if you allow the change
Hallo!
Hello there! Ich heisse kjbaum!
I have been doing prose for almost a year now and find it a very enjoyable website. I have been writing for much longer and it is something that brings me a ton of joy. I hope to publish a book one day, but until then...
I am a loyal friend, I will protect my friends as long as they need me. I am someone who wants to change the world for the better, but hasn't had a chance yet so instead I create speeches and share them with the bathroom mirror. I am someone who loves country music through and through, it is what I was raised on. I am someone who loves horses and my family, as well as reading, writing, drawing, and dogs. I am someone who is a rule follower and is not very daring. I am someone who keeps to my inner group of friends and is somewhat shy. But on top of everything I consider myself a good person, smart, caring, loyal, someone who floats in the world of books, and many other things. I like to joke around with my friends.
I hope to one day become a veterinarian and a well known author, but also the owner of horses in the meantime. (If you haven't been able to tell at this point, I loves horses.) I also hope to one day be able to speak multiple languages. I've been practicing my German and Spanish :).
Anyways, freut mich, sie kennenzulernen. Guten tag!
I think, therefore, I am?
Are we (only) our brains?
I love this type of thought exercise. They’re fun. It’s one of those that nobody can really prove or disprove. Which makes answering them (or attempting to) that much more fun.
My knee-jerk answer is, of course we are our brains! We are our thoughts and our minds. Our bodies just mere hardware to our software -- a clunky one at that. But wait, what are our brains really, but electrified hunks of flesh, able to construct and execute (predictable) algorithms?
So I guess our brains are simply just hardware too. Running what kind of software, now that is the question.
Answer me this: what happens when the brain becomes damaged? Through illness, erosion of time, or broken by injury? Now the software cannot execute as well, the electricity cannot travel through oxygen-starved pieces of flesh, cannot access data from damaged memory banks, cannot form the right words due to a break in the wiring.
What does that mean for these people? Are they no longer the same people they were?
Are they less?
Like an outdated cell phone, with a cracked screen and a faulty battery, no longer able to install updates to keep up with the latest applications. Sorry! You need version 13.0 or later! No, you do not have enough memory to install the latest version. Guess you’re out of luck then. Goodbye.
I refuse to believe we are simply the sum of our thoughts, the weight of our bodies, the sound of our voices. We can’t be, right? Otherwise, what’s the difference between us and machines with replaceable operating systems and upgradeable memories?
Here’s another thought: We are only who other people think we are. Think about it, if we disappear tomorrow, and nobody notices, then one could argue we didn’t actually exist.
We kind of need that acknowledgment, don’t we? After all, it doesn't matter what we tell ourselves in our minds, if nobody else could hear it.
Like Schrodinger’s cat: if nobody opens the box to look inside, then does it really matter if the darn cat is dead or alive?
I think what I’m getting at, is that we can’t possibly be so easily explained like individual pieces of software. We’re more. We are also part of a larger, vastly intricate, interconnected information system. That sounds beautiful, doesn’t it? We are all connected, therefore, we all matter, in one way or another. Our “selves” cannot be defined in isolation without first acknowledging its connection to each other.
Forgive me! I believe I have gone on a tangent now. Also, I think I am changing my original answer to the question.
We are (not) our brains.
