February 2011 Archives
There was a man who invented the art of making fire. He took his tools and went to a tribe in the north, where it was very cold, bitterly cold. He taught the people there to make fire. The people were very interested. He showed them the use to which they could put fire - they could cook, could keep themselves warm, etc. They were so grateful that they had learned the art of making fire. But before they could express their gratitude to the man, he disappeared. He wasn't concerned with getting their recognition or gratitude; he was concerned about their well-being. He went to another tribe, where he again began to show them the value of his invention. People were interested there, too, bit too interested for the peace of mind of their priests, who began to notice that this man was drawing crowds and they were losing their popularity. So they decided to do away with him. They poisoned him, crucified him, put it any way you like. But they were afraid now that the people might turn against them, so they were very wise, even wily. Do you know what they did? They had a portrait of the man made and mounted it on the main altar of the temple. The instruments for making fire were placed in front of the portrait, and the people were taught to revere the portrait and to pay reverence to the instruments of fire, which they dutifully did for centuries. The veneration and the worship went on, but there was no fire.
--Awareness
In the dark of the night Those small hours Uncertain and anxious I need to call you Rooms full of strangers Some call me friend But I wish you were so close to me ... Here comes the clown But his face is a wall No window No air at all In the dark of night Those faces they haunt me But I wish you were So close to me --INXS - By My Side
I got a one-way ticket on a hell-bound train With nothing to lose and nothing to gain Nobody ever taught me how to live I'm feeling like I'm lost like I'll never be found I'm twisting and I'm turned around Nobody ever taught me how to love I'm hurting everybody I'm hurting myself I'm desperate So what do you do When it all comes down on you Do you run and hide Or face the truth?... --Papa Roach - What Do You Do?
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