i am a

human being
scientist

this computer is neither.

Does the decision of a musical artist to provide their music in digital form automatically state that they give the community the right to freely share it? This would then turn the internet into simply a tool of sharing, much like a public bulletin board on which posters would be placed to advertise local thingies.

The owner of the physical artifact is allowed to record the music onto a cassette. The internet is only a middle-man between the physical artifact and someone that wishes to listen to it. If one wants the true art of it, they'll buy it. If one only wishes to listen to lesser quality versions of it, they will download it and not buy it.

For greater companies in a society when the majority of people cannot tell the difference between higher and lower quality recordings, this system is detrimental. But is it right for the government to declare the sharing of music illegal? Is sharing something illegal?

Given this link, I begin to see a pattern of struggling consciousnesses. I explore my mind for past occurrences of such animal behavior and find multiple examples. For instance, the playfulness of dogs, bears, other fish, and a wealth of other animal species, all exemplify the kind of adaptation and play in the article.

Therefore, one can playfully assume that each animal has a consciousness that struggles within the body of the given animal, as a human struggles to adapt with any particular tool.

The body is a tool for the mind, and when circumstances allow animals to perform activity that reveals this, it is funny.

I have a lot of original ideas but most of them are very difficult to pursue, promote and provide.

I love

001.) bits of paper
002.) cold gloves
003.) funny people
004.) destroyed inspiration
005.) pennies and nickles scattered about
006.) a warm scarf from my mother
007.) mistaken purchases/wasted money
008.) simple tools -- hammers, wrenches, screwdrivers
009.) human recognition, analysis, adaptation, application, analysis, adaptation, application, ...
010.) a nice pen

My heart is beating fast and it feels really bad.

I settle for less than perfect too often.

My heart is beating fast and it feels really good.

I find it wonderful that the human language is capable of both succeeding gracefully and failing miserably.

The providence of evidence and the lack of accuracy twists in harmony to form thread of language.

So what is beauty to me? Does it fashion itself out of the moments of my day, or am I forced to mold it out of the thoughts I have from moment to moment, making it somewhat of a skeleton of a body about which I've no clue. The original shape is unknown to me, distant and out of focus, like a silhouette against the bare sun. But does it come into focus? am I able to retrieve its precise shape, its origins and its purpose, definition? Or does it stay there, undefined and far away, out of reach until some human in the future creates the technologies to take him there? I don't know. And it is the pursuit of truth and further knowledge that will take us closer and closer to it, and day by day the human race becomes closer, ever closer, to beauty.

Way

When you construct a vision of the world you live in and work to believe that it is true, that is the vision you will see, whether it is true or not.

I pity those that do this to themselves.

Perhaps

I sit and wonder about the future without noticing the present and this leaves me blind to important discoveries that may benefit me personally in my pursuits.

Wisps

A rush of intensity surges through me and essential production is halted while I admire.

Eyes

I am filled with such joy that the world becomes a shuddering newborn with an empty brain.

Inspiration

An image is presented and the mind folds and flies.

Adaptation

For some, they fall lost and without control and become impaled by adaptation like a corpse from a barbarian pillaging.

A storm.

Running through the mess of weather in the wild I find myself struggling to make my feet reach solid ground, for the difficulty is not in my sight or ability to run but instead the strength I must use in order to continue.  The passive winds, blowing from high to low pressure areas, blow, and I am nothing but a mere force wishing to pass through the strong current of the fluid airs.

Into Society.

I am graduating in less than six months (hopefully) and I must then not only proliferate income but also provide my parents with proof that my income is the direct result of my Philosophy/Writing double major.