I know you felt it too,
in between sips of steaming tea,
as the cold air attacked our warmth,
and our souls breathed a sigh of relief.
Author: andyveilleux
A life too closely examined
Feeling the pulse of humanity,
is a troublesome affair,
that leads to much pain,
and too much waiting,
for something, anything.
The heart beats,
the blood flows,
and change fails,
to show its face.
Every major event is just another beat,
in a series of dull thumps leading to nothing.
The static existence continues on,
with no hope of its end in sight,
and no prayers for a new beginning.
People tug one another along,
and the beat never changes;
Sacrifices are required,
but only of those paying attention,
which is to say almost nobody.
A dull poem is a fair representation,
of the person who monitors existence,
far too closely for it to be enjoyable.
The unexamined life is not worth living,
but one examined too closely ends all joy;
a balance must be created and maintained.
Laurentian University’s History Dept. hits web running
I’ve recently had the privilege of stumbling across some of Laurentian University’s History professors on the world wide web. I thought it fantastic that they are beginning to use social media, as it is such an important part of society for prospective students, current students, and recent Alumni(such as myself). The department has its own twitter account, which is in its infancy stages @luhistory . Dr. Janice Liedl has a twitter account @jliedl . Dr. Andrew Smith has his own blog, where he posts about topics ranging from economics to politics, http://andrewdsmith.wordpress.com/ .
Free time?
After the next two days of work, I have almost two whole weeks off… from everything. School is on break, work will be on a break (both jobs), Road Hockey goes on a break, and soccer is on a break…. So the question is, what am I going to do with all that free time!?
Responsibility, freedom, and belief
As the title may imply, this is not going to be a light post. I’ve recently been having discussions with some friends with varied backgrounds, and I felt some of you, my readers, may be interested in hearing about a particular discussion. The discussion I wish to talk about involve religion, and the differing beliefs myself and my friend hold. My friends know that I enjoy speaking about pretty well anything philosophy related, which obviously includes religion. My friend was kind enough to send me a video excerpt of a play put together to explain her beliefs, in response to my questions of what she believes in. After the video I sent her a reply, and this is an excerpt from that:
To quickly summarize existentialism: “In life, a man commits himself, draws his own portrait, and there is nothing but that portrait.” -Sartre
He further extends that idea to explain how the hope for salvation must come from humanity itself, not a divine being, and therefore the question of whether or not a divine power exists is irrelevant. He is firm in his belief of this, because he feels the Christian ideal of salvation requires no effort and therefore makes people lazy when it comes to working for their own salvation.
He also argues that humans find solace in religion because it cures “anguish,” which is the state of mind when one realizes they are completely free to think and act how they wish without fear of any sort of cosmic repercussions (no judgement, no karma, etc).
He concludes all humans must accept full responsibility for their actions, and can not point their finger at anybody else for how they behave. Responsibility and freedom are intended to go hand in hand, and the decisions a person makes when they accept responsibility for all of their own actions, are completely different from the ones they make under the influence of fear of a divine power.
On a morality level, when an individual acts well as opposed to committing wrong acts, due to a fear of some cosmic repercussions, it cheapens the morality of those actions. Would they act the same way if they had no fear of cosmic repercussions?
Some would argue that the morality of behaving ‘good’ is irrelevant so long as the person is in fact behaving well. Which is the old “ends justify the means” mentality.
My stance is not meant to bash religion, or discredit it, because everybody is free to believe what they wish. The fact that I believe in secular humanism and existentialism, should in no way come with the tag of “hater of religion,” by any means. A stigma exists that preaches atheists can not cooperate with religious individuals, but I feel it is misguided.
If two individuals both seek the same goals, albeit through a different belief system, they should work on those goals together, and work on their unrelated goals separately.
My friend is a person who is genuinely interested in helping people, and improving the lives of others, and I see no reason why her religious beliefs should be a source for discrimination or alienation. It is interesting to write that statement as an atheist discussing a Christian, because the tables for discrimination seem to be reversed generally. I wonder what the percentage of atheists/agnostics, as opposed to Christians, is in North America, among people who believe in one or the other.
Year in Review
This year has been a turbulent one for me. From moving out of my parents’ house only to return a few months later, From making the transition from University to College, to overcoming a stressful lifestyle to successfully finish my bachelor’s degree, and of course taking on new jobs. 2009 has been an interesting year to say the least.
2009 looks set to end in a fascinating manner, as I have just applied for a position with Laurentian University, in their marketing department. I am also making plans to begin a master’s degree next year at Laurentian, with the help of Conway Fraser, and his extensive knowledge of Northern Ontario media.
There is a possibility I will jump into a career as a journalist, or a writer in a different fashion, instead of going back to school definitively. Options abound, and plans are still up in the air, but that’s the way life should be.
2010 is set to be a more important year than 2009 was for me, which is encouraging news.
A risk I’m willing to take
Hungry eyes feed off my own,
and dive deep into my soul,
as we bounce ideas off one another,
testing the water before jumping in.
It’s a strong sensation that irks me,
through whether it’s cold or hot,
my mind can not distinguish.
My stomach ignites with butterflies,
flying out of the net that is my heart,
lifting me above rationality and truth,
which matter not when emotions breed.
We’re at a perfect time,
where we’re exposed,
ever so slightly,
and none of our flaws,
have become too much,
for the other to handle.
Who does the bell of these words toll for,
and will the sound reach the right ears?
Life is a series of calculated,
or not so calculated,
risks.
This is a risk I’m willing to take;
I roll my dice on your table,
and wait for the outcome.
The flame licks my soul
Can a dreamer dream of satisfaction,
if they have never been satisfied?
The clock ticks beyond her,
and far from her reach,
it’s too late for time,
that’s gone now.
Forever is never forever enough,
for the ashes of dreams to die,
and stop their smoldering ways,
or the ashes of friendships,
long cool to the touch,
but never to the heart.
The heart will come along once again,
to heal the wounds deemed too deep,
and to rebuild your broken world,
with all your favourite toys,
and puppets to play with.
and the wooden soldier marches,
without sparing a glance,
to the left or the right,
confident in his direction,
and ability to feel heat,
despite the smell of fire.
As the fire licks the wood,
will you come back and save me,
or will you enjoy the warmth,
of all our passion gone wrong?
The flame licks my tender skull,
as the sound of footsteps rage,
and the hero is forgotten,
as smoke fills your eyes;
a tear for me I wonder?
Or nothing at all.
The
flame
licks
my
soul,
on
solitary
nights
filled
with
self
defeat,
and
too
many
chances
gone
astray,
as
your
flame
licks
my
soul.
Your fire will burn again
You can’t just lay there and accept life,
like those who fail to experience good sex.
The bird of fire in my soul ignites,
and launches a firestorm on the apathy,
of friends who’ve let go of their lives,
far too early to experience the pleasures.
You can’t concede your life to boredom and misery,
waiting for passion and meaning to happen to you,
because it won’t come for you now,
or ever again unless you take control,
and raise your pathetic existence up,
out of the dull ashes it simmers in,
and pull it into the sunlight once again.
I won’t let you surrender your soul,
or you will become a shell human,
gutted of emotion and enjoyment,
limping alone, broken and cold;
your fire will burn again,
or else I’ve failed you, my friend.
We can no longer afford to fail one another,
as more cold bodies pile on more cold bodies,
and a chill creeps into the bones of the living,
and the sewers fill with dead spirits who’ve turned,
into monsters that wade through the shit-filled waters,
as ravenous alligators in the swamp, filled with hatred,
ready to destroy the hopes and dreams of the passionate ones,
who embrace as lovers should, and don’t dwell on frozen memories,
because they are too busy creating a fire inside of their lover’s eyes.
The sewers of sometimes
A lonely little insect,
scurrying through sewers,
with the stench of waste,
but mostly decay.
A little insect,
I hear the sound of others;
occasionally an echo,
or a glimpse of life,
but mostly the dying,
and the broken.
The echoes toss hope at me,
bouncing it off the damp brick walls,
and I feel I may not be alone,
as another stops by my side,
only to move on momentarily.
Sometimes they smile,
sometimes they talk,
sometimes they even care;
but sometimes is never always,
and sometimes is not my home.
And in the sewers of sometimes,
we are the gliding seeds of dandelions,
forever stuck in an endless loop,
trying not to stick to the walls,
or be eaten by a river of shit and piss,
before we can reproduce more dandelions.
Our existence is rare,
and many never make it into the sewer,
and they may be better off,
never having to choke on the fumes,
or drown in the darkness,
alone.
Sometimes we’ll float on the river,
before it hops up and engulfs us,
a quickly fleeting moment of comfort,
before our flame is snuffed out forever.
This holy creator of brick,
is nothing more than a builder,
whose only work is an alleyway,
where sewage flows freely,
along with pain and loneliness.
Andy Veilleux 