To Believe in Man

The front cover of the book, and a few excerpts, though no color pages would show up

{NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, all items belong to their respective owners}

To Believe in Man, by Joseph Pintauro and Corita King. I didn't think much of it, when I picked it up, but it caught my attention as the bell rang to end lunch. So I checked it out as I headed out to my next class. The book is filled with random doodles and blots of colorful waterpaint, and lots and lots of scribbly handwriting, with black and white photos here and there. But it was interesting, and once I had deciphered the handwrinting, I fell in love with some of the words, so here are some of my favorite excerpts

Favorite Excerpts-

-Sometimes it seems there's not even a wind for an answer to be blowin' in.

-Our worst ugliness was our blindness to our own beauty

-Remember all those things we used to blame on the devil, and all those things we left up to god?
Now it's all a hundred times more complicated.

-we must become new men or be satisfied as we are...
...either way we risk tragedy

-to believe in man is to eat a tomato that was grown on a fire escape

-...and if we are all sinners, then there are good sinners and bad sinners

-maybe we are less than our dreams would make us,

but that less is more than gods would dream of

-for we have seen if only one of us
decides to pull the plug,
the millions of us can
kiss the world
goodbye
whether we like it or not

-don't forget you are children of the earth

-Don't knock yourself out over
Adam and Eve
And smooth or hairy monkeys
Enter into your own evolution
if you think you're man enough

-if it came out of a woman, man you better believe it

Count me Out.

I'm so glad, I left my hometown. Everyone here, thinks being cool and being messed up is synonymous. I hate it. Almost everyone I grew up with drinks, parties, and does drugs. I am so glad I walked away from here. And every time I ask them why they do it. They give me the same stupid excuse. "Everyone does it." and then they laugh and look at me like I'm the crazy one. I'm sorry but if that's what being a teenager is then, count me out, I just want to get these years over with, so I can really start living my life.

Puzzle Piece Problems.

The world's problems are like puzzle pieces, everyone of the are connected, and in the middle of the problems is the gap for the solution, the key isn't in seperating the problems, for it can't be done, the trick is finding the solution that fits.

Break meet Books.

So? What do you think? I'm trying out blogger in draft's new change the template editor, or whatever it's called. I'm currently on spring break and trying to keep myself entertained. Besides screwing with my blog's background, I have found three books that are turning out to be even better than I thought.

Heist Society: This book has become one of my favorites, I love the characters and plot, I picked it up and could put it down until I had devoured every last word.

Eyes like stars: I'm still working on this book, and though it doesn't completely have me enthralled, I keep wondering back to it. The storyline is fast paced enough, and the characters are amusingly familiar and interesting, to say the least. The way the setting is described makes it a little hard to get my bearings, but the plot keeps me guessing what will happen next. I'm curious to see how this story will turn out.

Two Way Street: I sadly don't quiet have my hands on yet, but oddly enough I can't wait to read it.

So far so good, now to find the motivation to do homework...

Postponed Farewell.

So. I've decided to keep this blog up. No farewells just yet. I really want to improve in my writing abilities, and the best way I know of to do that is to keep writing. A blog is a really good way to continue to doing so. This blog will follow the title more closely, with little to no explanations from now on. Mostly because I am tired of making posts entirely from excuses and introductions, and partially because this blog will be my sounding board for anything and everything that I desired to share. However my blogging shall be as infrequent as ever, because school is a higher priority which demands far more time and attention than I wish it to, meaning my blogging may continue to be monthly at best. Sorry, to all of those who've had to endure indecisiveness. I hope you won't be as disappointed anymore. Later.

Pre-farewell

My Dashboard has 5, undeleted, blogs on it and I don't know why.

No that's a lie. I do know why. I have become to lazy and busy to even remove those. It just seems that more and more these days, I can't bring myself to blog, I am either tired, haven't a clue as to what to say, or have nothing I wish to share. So I am starting to heavily consider just removing and deleting my blogs entirely (I am not a fan of leaving behind many traces). I am seriously considering the permanently diminishing my blogging identity to small but limited profile, with the occasional comment on blogs I continue to read, and that's it. So to everyone who still reads this blog, (if anyone does at all, still) consider this a fair warning, and a pre-farewell.

Two Sides and the Truth.

There are two sides to every story.

Somewhere in the middle lies the truth.

Recently I was looking at the Mahmoody stories. Both of them. Not too intensely, because well, spare time for me is lately sparse, but though I may not fully understand what was going on between the two countries at the time, and know one really knows what truly went on between Betty and Dr. Mahmoody. I would like to know one thing, what was Mahtob's opinion in all this. And how many of her memories were colored by her mother's fear and anger. She was five at the time. An extremely impressionable age.

Betty wanted to leave and take her daughter with her, she didn't want to live her life without her. Which is more than understandable. What isn't is why anyone would think that Dr. Mahmoody would want to live his life without his daughter in it?

~

Against my better judgement I am posting this. and would like to hear your thoughts.