this made me happy.
" A Random Gift of Words
By C. Filipe Medeiros
In the course of my day, I occasionally get an itch to write about something. Usually, I see an issue that Id like to touch upon not to give my opinion about it, but to expand upon it. Its like a thought process.
For example, I was talking to one of my business partners who it turns out is a major in philosophy at Santa Clara University. He is writing a paper on how consciousness is a force (to put it succinctly) like gravity.
Whoah, if you can prove that, it could be used to prove things like the existence of
I know what youre going to say. Prove the existence of God?
Er, I was going to say soul
Prove the existence of God, I thought. Apparently, for some, this is a big issue. Me, I was inclined to write about Why would someone want to prove the existence of God, and can it be done? I quickly mulled over in my mind about Gods detachments from reality and how no evidence could soundly be tied to Him.
Unfortunately, I never got a chance to write about it. About 5 minutes ago, I sat down at my laptop wanting to write, but finding myself bereft of ideas. Bored, I glanced over to my buddy list and saw who was online. Fouzhan was online, so I double-clicked her name and thought about something stupid to send to her over the wire.
I stopped before I stroked my first key and decided that I would write a paper for her. A Random Gift of Words, with love, to Fouzhan, I decided I would call it. While it wouldnt be true that Fouzhan inspired me to write (though Im sure shed be flattered to say so), it would be fair to say that she was the only girl online, and sending something like this to one of my guy friends would be received as kind of faggy.
Faggy translates to sensitive with girls, as I understand them (but who can?) so I felt it appropriate. As I write, I look over to the empty IM window and wonder what kind of messages Ill get in return in response to this message. I guess it doesnt really matter as long as I dont say anything stupid which I have no cause to. If I were in love with her, I can see myself writing something really stupid, but thank the Lord, Im not in love with anybody but myself at the moment.
So this is a gift of words lets call it a belated Christmas gift: A Random Gift of Words, with love, to Fouzhan. "
" A Random Gift of Words
By C. Filipe Medeiros
In the course of my day, I occasionally get an itch to write about something. Usually, I see an issue that Id like to touch upon not to give my opinion about it, but to expand upon it. Its like a thought process.
For example, I was talking to one of my business partners who it turns out is a major in philosophy at Santa Clara University. He is writing a paper on how consciousness is a force (to put it succinctly) like gravity.
Whoah, if you can prove that, it could be used to prove things like the existence of
I know what youre going to say. Prove the existence of God?
Er, I was going to say soul
Prove the existence of God, I thought. Apparently, for some, this is a big issue. Me, I was inclined to write about Why would someone want to prove the existence of God, and can it be done? I quickly mulled over in my mind about Gods detachments from reality and how no evidence could soundly be tied to Him.
Unfortunately, I never got a chance to write about it. About 5 minutes ago, I sat down at my laptop wanting to write, but finding myself bereft of ideas. Bored, I glanced over to my buddy list and saw who was online. Fouzhan was online, so I double-clicked her name and thought about something stupid to send to her over the wire.
I stopped before I stroked my first key and decided that I would write a paper for her. A Random Gift of Words, with love, to Fouzhan, I decided I would call it. While it wouldnt be true that Fouzhan inspired me to write (though Im sure shed be flattered to say so), it would be fair to say that she was the only girl online, and sending something like this to one of my guy friends would be received as kind of faggy.
Faggy translates to sensitive with girls, as I understand them (but who can?) so I felt it appropriate. As I write, I look over to the empty IM window and wonder what kind of messages Ill get in return in response to this message. I guess it doesnt really matter as long as I dont say anything stupid which I have no cause to. If I were in love with her, I can see myself writing something really stupid, but thank the Lord, Im not in love with anybody but myself at the moment.
So this is a gift of words lets call it a belated Christmas gift: A Random Gift of Words, with love, to Fouzhan. "
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
The only think I got out of that whole thing is that the idea that "...consciousness is a force (to put it succinctly) like gravity," is bullshit. Gravity, as we know it on Earth, is always 100% working for or against us. Ninety percent of what we do is unconscious. That is a big descrepency.