He has no religion

We talked about theories and philosophy and one of his ideas struck me. I asked him, What is your religious background?" He simply claimed that he had none. Now I had never met a person without a religion. The strange thought intrigued me and I wondered to myself, "What if he is right? What if everyone just lived completely without religion? What would they believe in?" Well he believed in the present. No expectations, just living, living to our full potential.

Is tradition enough reason to follow something that may have no logic or proof behind it? Must we commit ourselves to the past instead of creating our own being? There are theories that religion is only based on stories written by people just like us. It was all made up by storytellers who wanted to create a belief system and in the older days a system of ruling and government.

Then it all changed. Religion changed according to new developments and found its way into the contemporary world. This shows that religion is flexible and then once it becomes flexible people decide on their own version of an ideal religion and from there it just keeps branching off. Then each person believes in something different resulting in separation from communities and at many times, conflict between the branches. Conflict in saying that one belief is superior to another.

But if their was no religion then none of this conflict would exist. People would be more accepting of each other and would more easily relate to the other person's needs. If there was no religion then a stronger community base may be formed and similar lifestyle would keep people together.

We should ask ourselves why we believe in or do what we do and then when we come up with the answer ask why again and see if the answer really contains the reason and understanding that it should.

Religion is quickly decreasing as time goes on and new ideas and technologies are developed. There could be a chance that one day religion will completely disappear, and in many years a new group of storytellers will gather and create something called religion which will become the belief and take over once again.

Shadow

They didn't know him, but they refused to give him a chance. He was freindly, loveable, sweet, and all he really wanted was attention and companionship. His existence, a question in the fact of what he was and just how small he was compared to everyone else. They scorned his kind even though in truth what they scorned was the type that lived in the darkness of the dank sewers, below the busy streets. He turned to his comfort, the only thing he could really rely on in his life, food. He ate and ate and when he had none he seeked it out.

And that was his life, eat, sleep, search, eat, sleep. Until the one, the different one, accepted him and said, "I will give you a home and food, I will give you companionship." And in a world where they didn't accept him, someone removed themselves from they and took a chance. We'll just call this someone X. Now he was suprised when X offered him this and in the beginning he was hesitant. X promised him that everything would be okay and that he would be well taken care of. And eventually the trust grew...and grew. No judgement showed the kindness, for this was real truth which no one but X seemed to understand.

I am X. Who am I? I'm somebody who will take the chance to get to know something and stop to see it's individuality and beauty instead of simply walking away. My little friend? Well I know there are many people who won't even take the chance to meet him and I disagree with their judgement. Sadly many people are like that and no matter what they are told about the goodness of something they will remain unconvinced and unwilling to risk the judgement. The steroype blinds many. It's like we need the categories to make things easier for us. Truthfully a full stereotype is non-existant, because there will never be someone or something that fits its exact definition.

My friend is judged according to a stereotype and many people believe that he is what he is not. And if I state what he is...well, you too would make the judgement of whether you would accept him or not. So he will remain unnamed and unknown and maybe if you meet someone like him one day, you will rethink the blind judgement, that can easily be made towards him, and instead simply accept him for the individual he is.

__________________...

Silence, nothing, yet everything. Silence is the breeze through my hair. Silence is the quite simple stare. Blankness, no thought, every thought. How can one thing contain two opposite feelings, two completely different meanings? The calm tranquility or deafening roar. The peircing sound that blows the mind. Silence that is a sound. It screams at you and you ask it why? Why are things the way they are?
Why does silence have this effect on us?
Peace and serenity, trust and beauty, keeping us completely intact, in one state of mind. And we feel comfortable with everyone and everything that is around us. Except when we're not because sometimes that silence becomes unwanted. These are the moments when the silence screams at us, "Say Something! Do Something!" and we stare blankly as the silence engulfs us. It takes over and strives to find its place. Silence, clear straightforward and knowing. A break in the silence and the thought is destroyed. The process, the flow, everything collapses. It's almost like a machine. Going and going and never never stopping, because it never ends. The break...the disaster or the relief? Silence, a confusing concept. I cannot define it and I believe that there is no true definition in it's analysis. It's all based on the person and the situation they are in. Sound or no sound? We don't really know, now do we?

Orange

Carrot:
1. a plant, Daucus carota, of the parsley family, having pinnately decompound leaves and umbels of small white or yellow flowers, in its wild form a widespread, familiar weed, and in cultivation valued for its edible root.
2. the nutritious, orange to yellow root of this plant, eaten raw or cooked.
http://dictionary.reference.com/

I will be talking about a carrot, a very tasty carrot. I think I will name him Fred. He's very orange as you can see, perfect crunch and satisfying. People say that carrots help your eyesight. Well I don't believe them. Ever since I started eating carrots my eyesight has slowly decreased. Now I have circles of plastic glued to my face so that I can see.

You're probably thinking, "Why the heck is she talking about a carrot? She must be on crack. I will answer you, "No, I don't do drugs and how many people out there would talk about a carrot? I mean you're right. Nobody would listen!"

Well I'm sick of writing the same thing that everyone else writes about. How much the world sucks, how much I want a boyfriend, What I did on the weekend and so on...I want to be original...but so does everyone. wow! It's impossible! What is this world coming to?

Everyone tries their hardest to get out there. For example Fred. He's a great guy to have on a veggie platter. His texture, his taste, and his colour has helped him gain his popularity. He is unique from all the other veggies and more liked than let's say a turnip. Quite like a writer. A writer has to have texture, taste, and colour. Texture, we want the reader to feel our peice emotionally. We want them to be able to taste it, to relate to it. And we want it to have colour and variety so that it keeps the reader interested.

In the end some people are recognized for their talent. Many are not. Sometimes we even become desperate, changing our writings into advertisements. We wish to appeal to the senses of the reader and this sometimes changes the whole peice. Why not appeal to the reader, but also stick to your thoughts and beliefs?Even if no one reads it is a great accomplishment in the mind. Though you may want others to read it, it is also for yourself.

There willl always be a person in this world who agrees on your thought or idea. Maybe someone you know, maybe someone you don't know. So write about whatever comes to your mind even if you think it's too weird to be possible. Someone out there will understand you. Write about a dishwasher, a tissue, a magnet...anything at all. Write about Bob the tomato. Everything around you stares at you, just waiting to get some attention.

Give it the attention it seeks for you may just create a masterpeice...just open up your mind and you will journey to great places.

Happiness

It is out there for each and every one of us. Hidden in a book, dancing in the rain, or soaring with the wind. Happiness is everywhere. We may not see it sometimes, but we can feel it and we know it's there. Hapiness is that random smile from the stranger waiting at the bus stop. Happiness is sitting down and listening to the story of the man who lives on the street. Happiness is the little things we do that make us feel so good inside. Yes, there are times when we may feel like happiness has left us for good. We are filled with sorrow and anger. We lack hope and inspiration. But even in darkest corners of our lives there is still a spark. In the times when you feel like the world has come to an end, happiness is right beside you whispering, “Smile a bit and think a little harder” You will find the happiness. You will hold strong to your beliefs, because no one can ever take that away from you.

Stand up to Media!

You're not pretty enough, You're too shy, he's not cool, she's boring. Simple, small comments such as these put a dent in our self confidence leaving us with a feeling that we are not good enough for society. That sexy model you see on a billboard is airbrushed, no doubt. That person probably looks just like you and I.

We don't accept this fact though. We are taught that this is true beauty. Something that is utterly impossible is true beauty. It's sick. This is the face that people are attracted to. This is the body that we must have. Unhealthy, annorexic, bolemic, over powered with steroids. Why should I risk my life in order for someone to say "You're so hot, I wanna make love to you all night." Would you fuck me if I wasn't hot? Well...huh huh huh, tell me?! Atleast I'd be healthy and the one who would make love to me would do it because they are commited and love me for who I am.

And if the media doesn't call me pretty, I'll look in the mirror and say "I'm gorgeous". If I see a skinny person walking down the street, I'll pat my stomach and say "I like my triple scoop sundae with some whip cream and a cherry ontop". The media? What is the media? You want me to listen to you? I don't even know who you are!

Maybe I am an outsider. So what? I am deviant. Why the heck does it feel so damn good sometimes? People say we are all different and this is a good thing, but are we really? Truthfully, everyone is the same. Only once we accept and understand this fact will we be different, intellectual, individuals with opinions and ideals of our own. Only once we understand that we are the same can we make a change to be different.

Are We For Real

Thoughts, Dreams, Feelings, it's about time I started writing them down...or have they been written already?What will I say? Well there are so many things to say. Too many in fact. And will words change anything...maybe...maybe not.A single person is so small. So weak. How could any one person on this earth become strong? Be influential in any way? Even have their own thoughts? Is it even possible? What I am writing at this moment is probably also going through the mind of someone in some foreign country, maybe even in the mind of a girl who lives just down the street. They could be thinking exactly the same thoughts that I am thinking and if they saw this blog they would just feel even smaller than they already are. Maybe no one is unique. We strive to be known, to break records, to win the souls of the world. And even if we have become known we have not and will never win the souls of everyone for there will always be an opposing force driving into us, telling us that we are wrong. Are we standing figures in society or are we just pieces of dust blowing in the wind, bound to be recognized for a moment, but then forgotten?