Archive for the ‘General’ Category

Word Press Help

Wednesday, December 26th, 2012

I am having an issue with when I click on the reader tab of my page with it constantly reloading every second. This makes it near impossible for me to scroll the page.

It appears that it is checking for new post, but its doing it every second as opposed to in the past when it only checked for new post sparingly. Has anyone had this issue or know a way I can solve it? Seems like this problem started about 2 weeks ago. Thanks for all help JMD

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Short Short Short Short Story

Sunday, December 23rd, 2012

Allegedly, Ernest Hemingway wrote a six world short story, which he called his greatest work. I am not sure if this has be proven,as it seems to be more of a myth. Regardless, here is the story.

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

I have read a lot about how great a story this is. Really? To me this is neither a story nor that great. I don’t suggest its not a story because of its length but rather its lack of the essential parts that make up any story. Putting the story aspect aside, what makes this so great? I hear its about the pain of miscarriage, etc. How do we come to that conclusion? In my eyes, its talking about a pair of baby shoes that were gave as a gift to a baby and were never used because they were to small.

Some one might say that is the beauty of the story, there could be so many different themes behind those six words. Which makes my point that is not a story, but rather an open end set of words. For example let me try, Rain fell at the bus stop.  There could be many suggestions about this story. For instance, this story is so deep because it is about a man deep in despair, still trying to be successful in life as he waits on the bus to go to his dead end job. Or, a little kid waits at the bus stop for his parents that will never come because they have been just killed in an accident. The possibilities go on and on. Story and great? Nah.

The following is a real short short short story.

We live in hard times, where doing the right thing is frowned upon. Hope is all that remains in this place. I cannot find hope.

JMD

Thrice Met

Thursday, December 13th, 2012

IMG00342-20121213-1227

I found the beach again today.
It wasn’t hard to find.
I cheated, I’ve been here before.
A thousand times, maybe more.
 
It has been a few weeks since I last saw you.
Ah, I guess that is to be expected.
It may rain soon, why won’t you leave?
Ah, what does it matter?
 
This breeze is nice, I must say.
Easy to navigate, unless you are heading north.
Pardon me as I pass by.
Pardon me as I tend to ramble.
 
I see you are back ole friend.
I must admit, I have missed thee.
Any good news, maybe stories to share?
Ah, the hell you can’t understand me.

The Devil is on my Back/Trust me you will want to read this

Tuesday, December 11th, 2012

280px-John_Henry_Fuseli_-_The_Nightmare

Have you ever went to sleep, then woke up later on with eyes wide open, but find you can’t control your body? Sleep Paralysis is the medical term for what people some times refer to as “the devil is on my back”, “the devil is riding my back”, or “the devil is on my shoulder.”

In any case, most of us have experienced this at some point in our lives. Some of use more than others. Some of us are lucky enough not to know what this even refers to. I will start with a brief explanation of what the medical community and others say about Sleep Paralysis.  I will conclude with my theory on what this experience actually is.

Sleep Paralysis gets it devilish nickname because the individual who experiences this are often times frightened. Why are people frightened? Because when you experience Sleep Paralysis, you have zero control over moving your body at any level, combined with a sense that someone or something is in the room with you as you lie in bed. Hence it feels like “the devil is on your back” because you can’t move despite the fact that your mind is telling you to act because there is danger near by.

I have researched  medical explanations for why this happens, and not surprising no one gives an answer to why this happens. Instead, they type a bunch of medical jargon, which when read deeply, one quickly figures out they simply have no idea why this happens. Most studies do tend to agree it happens during REM stage of sleep. REM, rapid eye movement usually occurs during the morning hours of sleep right before you wake. This does not explain why myself and others usually experience this within a short time after falling asleep not during the morning hours.

The following is my theory on why this happens.

You and I are composed of three parts. The soul (you and I), the body, and the mind. The body and mind are just tools for our use. We are the soul. So when we go to bed, our mind and body enter a state of shut down. A period of rest. While our soul detaches itself from this earthly realm (body and mind) and takes a journey through the spirit world. We are for the most part not able to tap into this journey consciously, because well our mind is no longer being used, it is in rest. But what does happen is, we remember fragments of these journeys and we call them dreams.

REM sleep, consist of the final phase of sleeping. This is the phase where most if not all dreams occur. REM gets it name because literally our eyes are moving rapidly during this phase. Why is this so? Because what actually is happening during this phase is our soul is attaching itself back to the mind and body, thus flooding our mind with all the experiences our soul encountered during its journey. We call this dreaming.

Think about it like this, it would be like watching a combination of several movies and tv shows in a row on 500x fast forward. We try to observe and remember what we are seeing, but it is going by so quick we can only catch certain fragments (dreams). Some of us have the ability to retain this flood of information better than others, hence they can remember dreams very well. While some of use can’t remember a single second. But that topic is for another discussion.

Ok, finally after all that, what is Sleep Paralysis? Sleep Paralysis happens because our mind and body awaken from their rest state moments after our soul starts the detach process. So our mind is fully aware and the body ready for action lacks a missing piece with gives it the fuel to move and react in the physical world (soul, us). So what happens is, mentally we start freaking out. Our soul (us) only recently detached, recognizes that a flaw in the process has occurred, and re-attaches itself. Thus we are able to move again, and we breathe a sigh of relief.

So the next time the devil decides to ride on your back, just remember it is just your soul going out for its nightly jog.

What to Read, I Need your Help

Saturday, December 1st, 2012

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So I am looking for a new book or series to read, starting today. I am open to any and all suggestions. I finished the dark tower series last night with all 8 books read.

For the most part, there isn’t a style or genre of book that I don’t enjoy, but I would say I don’t care much for romantic novels especially the ones with Fabio on the front cover.

If you have any suggestions please let me know, it would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks, JMD.

Foot Prints in the Sand

Friday, November 30th, 2012

IMG00325-20121127-1535

Do you know who I am?
I followed you? No.
I am with you always.
Step in step, in fact I am you.

You turn back, but do not see me.
You look with your eyes, this is faulty.
With your ears, you listen for me coming.
Your ears let you down, quiet them.

My smell does not reach your sniffing nose.
Nor will it ever.
Reaching behind, you try to grab me.
Your hands only grab air.

Don’t you understand, your mind and body fail you.
Close all senses, shut off all thoughts.
Do you know who I am?
Foot prints in the sand.

Spoiler Below!! Stop Here if you don’t want to read my answer.

The answer is, you (soul), soul (you), and God. Firstly, often times we say the word soul as if it is not us, when we should be using it as an alternative to the pronouns, I, You, Yours, etc. Secondly, God is always with us and we are always with God (to what degree we are aware of this differs greatly from person to person). Lastly, to understand these answers and identify the foot prints in the sand, you must not use the body (5 senses, etc), nor use the mind (thoughts, reason, logic etc). You (soul) need only to turn inward and the owner of the foot prints in the sand become easy to see.

Living, Writing Beach

Wednesday, November 28th, 2012

 

 

 

 

The beach is my life
And the blue ocean breeze my friend.
I am at peace here, while
A lone sea bird protects me.

But why do thee follow?
Every day you sit, perched feet away.
Your stance is stoic.
I am proud to know thee.

 

 

 

 

Your coat is beautiful, soft white on gracious gray
And when you do fly, it is a sight to see.
At times you wander off, with friends I suppose;
Yet, I always see thy face again.

The beach is my love
And the blue ocean breeze my soul.
I can breathe again.
My sea bird, my protector, I thank thee.

Insert Your Name in the Blank: For _____

Wednesday, November 7th, 2012

No, time goes quick.
Yes, our days seem long.
Yet, the hours bleed away.

But you live in my heart.
And in my thoughts.
Please minutes, take your time.

Floor Nineteen

Wednesday, October 31st, 2012

Ding. The elevator arrived at last. Its large shiny metallic double doors inched slowly apart. I could still see parts of my reflection. My blue pin striped suit reflected well off the doors. A gold tie with blue triangles hung perfectly off my neck. The halves of the door tore apart my well groomed face, blue eyes, and short brown hair as it neared closer to being fully open. This process took forever.

Ding. The doors opened all the way.

I wore brown leather shoes. They were perfect. I took careful, well placed steps toward the back of the elevator. I could not feel the transition from the white, marbled floor to the black carpet. I reached the back left corner. I turned around.

The elevator operator wore a red uniform. The words “Dynasty” were printed on the front of his shirt. A piece of gold colored metal spelled his name, Preston. Two pens and a calculator filled the front pocket of his shirt. His black tie was too short. Behind his thick, dark prescription glasses, I could see brown eyes. Long hair that was poorly groomed failed to successfully hide the pimples on his face. I looked toward him, but only with my peripheral vision. He did the same. Silence.

A heavy smell of perfume filled my nostrils. I turned my head slightly to the right. She was beautiful. She wore dark red high heels. They complemented her curves. Toned, tanned legs rode elegantly up toward the hem of a short, black skirt. The bottom of it rested several inches above her knees. And it she looked great in it. A low cut, white blouse showed her ample cleavage. Her left arm was fully sleeved with tattoos, which extended to the top of her shoulder. She wore no wedding ring. Dark black hair flowed flawlessly around her gorgeous face. Some how, I knew her name. Nikki. I viewed her with my eyes down. She did the same. Silence.

Preston pushed the number nineteen. An amber light took its time to display that the instruction was captured. For the first time, Preston looked me in the eyes. I nodded my head in approval. His eyes wavered back toward the floor. The elevator let out a low rumble. Beneath my feet, it felt like a miniature earthquake. The elevator started to head for the nineteenth floor.

It seemed like five minutes passed before we cleared the first floor. Why this happened, I do not know. In fact, the long ride gave me ample time to ponder this question to no avail. However, I do know that a heavy burden of awkwardness filled every corner of that elevator. My eyes continued to look beyond Preston and Nikki, but I still saw them. They did the same and they still saw me.

A slow, mechanical click chimed as we passed the seventh floor. The awkwardness was still there. I knew these two. But I did not know them. I pondered this. It felt like I was at a high school reunion, with two classmates that I never talked too. Three strangers, perfect in their own way, yet we knew each other. I sensed they were pondering something similar.

The mechanical click chimed again. Floor thirteen. I set my mind to the task of starting small talk. It never happened. I looked at Nikki. I said in my head “Hey, how are doing today?” Those words never reached my lips. I looked at Preston and thought, “Long day?” Again, these words failed to find my lips. My thoughts turned to the time this elevator ride was taking. I was anxious for this to be over. They were anxious.

The mechanical click chimed for the last time. Floor nineteen. Thank God. The metallic doors inside of the elevator were dull. Our reflections still showed. The door opened slowly. Three reflections were being torn apart at the time. I stepped forward. The doors rested in the open position. I took three steps onto the white, marbled floor. I turned around. Preston and Nikki were not there. I was not shocked. I was relieved. The doors closed. It reflected a singular, perfect image.

Spent Cartridges

Thursday, October 25th, 2012

Memories are a lot like spent cartridges. At times they are left lying on the ground. We walk away. Other times, we pick up our spent shells and discard them later.”-JMD

 

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