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.