The Catch

He who withholds in nothing
Is by and by thrown into a cell erected for him

But he who withholds in all things
Builds up and mortars his own prison walls

Why Would I Fear to Taste of a Grape

Why would I fear to taste of a grape?
Seeing the ripeness without
Yet fearing within
That it will prove lemon-like in the proving?

I fear not it to be poison
But bitter only
That which doesn't kill
But makes unpleasant

Unpleasant is not death
But perhaps more life
More sanctity in reason
More triumph in action

No, it must be tasted 

Or forever regretted

For such a grape sweet as this to the eyes
Proving bitter
Will only teach wisdom
And give me experience.

Fear not, but taste
For, proving sweet,
The merrier I'll be
Or, proving bitter,
The better I'll become

Triumphing Hour

I will ask God for an hour
And I will do all in my power
To make it a triumphing hour
And if it be God's will
He will do the rest
And if not
He will help me to see
The better road yet

O Wretched Ship

O wretched ship
O dusty vessel
The anchor is stopped
The chains are rusted
You won't find a shore on this rusty ship

There are some things which I'll never get
Because I won't ever find them on this wretched ship

The sails have once seen much better days
But the birds have made waste and speckled with holes
The floor battered to pieces by myriad beasts

While that rusted chain
Turns green to wine
Bitter unsweetened


Your ship from the East
Came with fresh sails
And cut the chain that held me bound
And freedom-swept, I sailed to shore
And such bitterness I felt
Was made nevermore

Something I'm Realizing

When you adjust your personality even the slightest bit to appease someone else to tell them what they would want to hear or to be what they would want you to be, and you start repeating that for a hundred different people, all you get is a hundred people wanting you to be their best friend because you are to them what they always wanted and you don't want to be their best friend because you can't be your true self around them, and instead you are forced to be a hundred different people that you aren't.

Going for the Gold

I know a girl who cries when she practices violin.
'Cause each note sounds so pure
It just cuts into her
And then the melody comes pouring out her eyes.


-Bright Eyes

Inception

I just saw Inception.  It was a really well-thought out movie and I would be among the first to appreciate that, but I asked myself what was the purpose that the creator was trying to accomplish.  Maybe it was just to entertain, but I think that there had to have been some motive, or desired end, for investing so much time and effort into a single two-hour product.

Maybe that's besides the point.  Maybe the creator's conscious motive has nothing to do with it.  But I suppose one of its effects is that it causes its viewers to question reality, even more so than they already do. And it makes you wonder, what is reality?  Are movies reality?  Is television reality?  Is the Internet reality?  Online chatting, emails, text messages, blogs, apps, online shopping, online dating, online friendships--are these things really reality?  These seem like dumb questions, and they are.  But when is it that we're all going to wake up?  As I walked out of the movie theater I saw what seemed like 50 new movie posters of new movies about to come out staring me straight in the face.  "Hope you come back to see us soon!"  How much time and money does the average human being invest annually in cinema alone?  I mean, it was a great movie and everything, but it made me wonder, what's happening to us?  What are we getting ourselves into?

Maybe I'm just overreacting.  I feel, though, like I'm beginning to wake up to some hidden truth that movies and music and Internet and everything in between just eat hours, and, if they can, dollars as well. Its clear that what we know does not always correlate with what we do.  What can I do to live more fully in reality?  I feel like I need to start by shedding a lot of dead weight.

What am I willing to give up for simplicity's sake?

Fear Itself

I met one of my best friends today for the first time in nearly 3 years.  His name is Don Johnson.  Don Johnson has been such a determining strand in the web my life has spun.  Don helped me overcome a lot of the self-created barriers I once had that kept me from taking another step on the path of self-progress.  There are still about a jillion more of those barriers ahead of me, but I think I'm going to start to have to learn to overcome them more on my own, since Don's getting married.  He gets married next week.  His fiance is Emily.  They love each other so much.  I always knew that, whoever Don married, he would love her so much.  

When I was there, Emily was writing thank-you cards.  She was writing them to all of the people that had given them gifts at the wedding reception they already had in Baltimore.  Their life is on a great big track right now, and even though I know I loved seeing and being with Don again, and he felt the same for me, I knew and could feel that I was not on that same track.  Its like he was looking at me down from the railcar, and we briefly exchanged smiles as I saw him go on.  I will miss Don.  I know I will still have Don with me, but I will miss him.

I'm standing on an interesting stage right now.  The characters are unfamiliar.  I have no trouble talking with them, and figuring out what their roles are, and even enjoying their company vaguely.  But I can't seem to see exactly where I fit into the plot.  I try a role here, or play a piece there, but it doesn't feel smooth.  I don't want to walk off the stage, and I know that its about to change acts soon so I'm just trying to be patient.  

But I haven't studied the act, and it makes me a little nervous.  They said "Don't worry, just play it as it comes," but I still feel anxious.  I don't want to feel anxious and I try to think about other things, but I can't stop the plunging.  I can't stop the people trying to spend some last moments with me when I'm about to spend my first moments with everybody.  I feel like I need something that I'm lacking.  Its not stage directions, its not a script, maybe its the fellow players.  Once I have them, it will be okay.  Because whatever happens to them, will happen to me.  Why is it that we feel so uncomfortable going down, until we are reassured that we are going down together?

Difficult Issue

I think that the blog thing is starting to compete with my journal.  Where will I unload my thoughts from the day?

No Cars Go

My brother James' favorite band is Arcade Fire.  He said he saw an Arcade Fire t-shirt I'd left home when I went to Brazil, and he got interested and got attached.  They just came out with a new CD.  Actually, technically, they will be coming out with a new CD tomorrow, but since James specially pre-ordered it, he got it today. So he's been listening to it most of the day.

I guess I'm getting old because I can't get myself as into new music as I used to be able to.  It used to be my life.  But when he was listening to their new album in my car, I just wanted to listen to their older albums, the ones I was used to.  We put in an older album of theirs, and we started listening to one of the best songs, entitled "No Cars Go."  I love that song.  I don't know what it is about it.  They sing a lot about the need for kids to stay kids in their hearts and not lose their imaginations.  I suppose thats something I've always agreed with, which might be part of why I like it, though it isn't just the lyrics that get me.

Some of it goes (and this is from memory, it could be incorrect.  If so I apologize) "There is a place where no planes go, there is a place where no trains go.  No cars go, no cars go, where we know. ... Us kids know, us kids know."

Its a longer song, the way I prefer it, and it goes into a change of pace and he starts to sing "Between the click of the light, and the start of the dream.  Between the click of the light, and the start of the dream."

I'm not sure why I'm sharing all this.  Maybe its because I'm currently between the click of the light and the start of the dream.  And I do love places where no cars go.

Sunday

Morrissey sang a song that goes like this: "Every day is like Sunday.  Every day is silent and grey."  I disagree.  Well, I guess if you can take those things in a positive connotation, then yes.  I mean, silent and grey aren't always bad things.  They say that silence is a rare commodity, and the color grey, in the right shade, is one of my favorite colors.  To me it resembles a form of a quiet dignity, something I have always admired and respected.  But the point is, I believe that Sunday is without a doubt the best day of the week.

Today I was invited to eat lunch at a family's home.  The ironic thing is that this is a family of non-members, and very firm in another faith.  The other ironic thing is that I didn't really know these people except for their daughter Becky, who was one of my high school friends, and who is leaving on a mission trip for her church this month.  She is going to China.  Her parents are leaders in her church. I wasn't really nervous to talk to them; I always knew that they were amazing people and I was excited to talk to them about my mission.  I brought photos to show them.  I had the greatest conversation with Becky's dad, Craig.  He is an incredible man.  When you talk, he has this glow in his eyes and you can feel that he is deeply listening to what you are saying.  He taught me a lot of things, too.  He is the type of guy that you instantly realize that you need to spend a lot more time with, because you learn so much from having a conversation with him.

Fast and testimony meeting at the singles branch in Salem was incredible today.  Summers are the best for that branch because it gets the people from all over.  Tomorrow will be "movie night under the stars."  I'm excited.  I never thought that I would actually be excited for the singles branch activities.  I guess things change.

First Words

Well, I have officially created my first blog.  I half can't believe it.  Now I don't know what to say.

I guess I will start by explaining why I created a blog in the first place, and why I can't believe that I did.  I never thought I would create a blog because I never was interested in blogs.  I always just thought of them as one of the billions of things that people can do on the internet.  Why I created one is a little more complicated.  I don't know if I can properly lay it out in words, but I think that it is partially due to my need to make sense of my life and the things that happen therein.  I feel like a blog is a lot like a journal, except that everyone's allowed to read it without even asking permission.  Kind of an interesting concept, I'd say.

I guess we'll see where this goes.  This could be my first and last post, or I could keep going with this until I'm seventy.  We'll see.

I wanted the site of my blog to be jacobkunz.blogspot.com.  I think that jacobkunzler is too wordy.  But due to a blogger by the name of Jacob Kunz, who decided somewhere back in 2005 to make one single blog post, that site is forever claimed.  Go ahead, visit Jacob Kunz's blog briefly.  You would probably be the second or third viewer, since I am pretty sure I was the first.  Jacob Kunz, if you are reading this, I am sorry.  I just really wanted that name for my blog site.  I wonder, what if we could wage war and conquer internet territory by sheer force?  What if I could claim jacobkunz.blogspot.com as my own?  That's what people did in the past with physical territory, isn't it?  I would consider physical territory much more valuable than virtual territory.  I wonder if it's possible.

The reason why I named this blog "My Own Spontaneous Power of Will" is because I think that something I do is only of real worth when it is done by my own spontaneous power of will.

So, I suppose I am creating a blog, like most people do, to be heard.  Though I do not plan on inviting anyone to "follow" this blog 1) because I wouldn't want to be a cause for someone to waste even more precious time sitting at a computer desk when they could be doing something so much more productive and 2) because I'm too shy.  I would be lying if I said I didn't get utterly delighted if I found out someone was reading my posts.  Maybe I will leave strategic hints as a trail of bread crumbs to lead people to this site, and hopefully they get hooked from reading a bit.  I will have to come up with some very good first lines.  That way, if someone does start to "follow" it will be due to their own spontaneous power of will, and I will be able to remain shy.

I should get going.  I need to get ready for something.  There's always something to get ready for, but at the same time always some reason to delay that getting-ready.  But I've delayed enough; now I really should get ready.