Various sonderings.

I even had to look up the definition of the term "Sondering." 

    Blogger wants me to correct it, because auto spell-check doesn't register it as a word in the Google dictionary. I care not! I looked it up and found the closest definition to be: Sondering, n. An exploratory action or expedition. 

So what if it's actually just a dutch word. 

    I like to think that this blog is a Sondering. I really have no true objective for this Blog. Maybe I'll designate it with some true goals, once I discover them, and myself a little bit more. There's a real process of discovery and uncovery as I uncover what I can discover about myself. Sort of like panning for gold, you see? Sometimes I mistake Pyrite for real Gold. Fortunately there's beautiful people like YOU who are there to keep me on the right track and tell me when I'm getting out of line. 

    I mean, I've been keeping journals for a long time and only now felt it necessary to start posing my questions and posting my thoughts on a public forum. This, to me is a public forum, even if it takes one thousand years to reach the eyes of a prospective reader. I don't think the Internet is going anywhere soon.

    Where were we? Oh yes... Sonderings! Sonder.... It's a fun word. I think I first found it while stalking Tumblr. social media three or four years back. Oh, look, I found the image. And what a beauty it is to behold! Such magnificent cityscapes in contrast to a simple white text definition! I must oogle at it's deep comprehension of the English language, far beyond my own feeble peasant lexicon! 

   Look at that I've started going mad. Hilarious. I'm sure you're upset for having to read this far. I enjoy having a column of text to fill though. Good fun, this.

Did you know, Gisbourne, New Zealand is the first major country in the world to experience the new day? Hawaii is one of the last places in the world to see the sunset. Anyways, It actually is a good definition and I always enjoyed the word. It expresses the depth of human consciousness, and creativity of language. 

    The Late Terry Pratchett, one of my favorite fiction authors, wrote a book called "The Wee Free Men," and in it the main character is an unassuming little girl by the name of Tiffany Aching. Her part in the beginning was always the most relatable to me. She was pondering upon the emotions that words in her head made her feel like, or more precisely, what emotions these words, once thought of, provoked within her mind. It was giving life and flavor to an otherwise bland dictionary. Giving personality to a string of letters. The associations that I had made with words were now near-tangible. I could feel the strangeness in the word quixotic and suffer dark thunderclouds of feeling when I thought of the impending. 

    I have a deep appreciation for words. And also fiction. Language, especially the English one, often gets jumbled and garbled in the conveyance of pixels on a screen, as it's nuanced tonalities and various plays-on-words get lost in translation. My hope is that you'll join me in my endeavor to help bridge the gap between the unknown and the knowable by connecting with me over a more immaterial bond of soul other than just literal meaning. Hardly if ever, do I have a feeling of knowing what I mean; literally.

As always, dear Reader, til next time,
Peace, Love, and Harmony
~Faaabs

Sleeping until 3:30pm

I love sleep!

    I don't know why, but I've always been a huge fan of sleeping.

Something about the creative juxtaposition between reality and dreams really piques my interest.

   “You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” 

― Dr. Seuss 

    There are some serious disadvantages to not getting enough sleep. I see it all the time in people who are work-a-holics, or party animals, or self appointed "night owls". You can find more about it here, if you don't already know that your body needs that time to recover and heal the cells and brain in the period of inactivity.

    What's interesting to me is how much of a delicate balance our bodies require to function at a peak/optimal level. We have to keep our patterns in check or risk health consequences on either side of the spectrum. Too much sleep is bad, they say, and too little sleep is bad, they say. The Goldilocks society reigns supreme, and everyone wants to capitalize on your fears and insecurities.

    Personally I just get fed up with the nonsense of the daily life and the craziness of it all here in Chicago. That's why I like to sleep. I don't understand hype or social crazes, and subsequently don't get involved in them. Things like Pokemon Go just don't click for me. I'll give that new video game a try, if it triggers in my brain things that I like, such as an engrossing storyline with immersive characters and a good skill/combat system. I've never had to worry about those things when I dream, because there is always an engrossing storyline.

If it wasn't engrossing, I wouldn't be dreaming about it.

    And that's why I love sleep so much. It gives my brain something to do to try and make sense of all the sensory mish-mash of the current world we are living in. It's like writing for me. I can just let go and process all the thoughts and emotions that I have captured from the external world and let them out of my internal self in a healthy and uplifting way. Even if it doesn't make too much sense at the moment when it is happening, always in hindsight I feel better off than when I began.

As always, dear reader, til next time.

Peace, Love, and Harmony

~Faaabs

Ramblings of Fantasy

For the love of Fantasy

    It probably had something to do with my father's insistence that I get a video game every weekend we spent together, that I became a fantasy lover. I never had to think about whether or not I should spend the next three hours out spending time with friends or devouring the plot line to the new Ratchet & Clank game that just came out on PS2. For me it was a form of dreamlike escape that just made so much sense to me and put into words something that was lacking in this world.

    When I was in first grade I picked up the first part of my fantasy education, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling. I quickly devoured the next three books in the series and was playing with all of the characters in the book while my life on the outside was dull and bland in comparison. I always had a more vivid connection with those characters to my own life than those around me ever had with me. I was a shut-in, and Fantasy was my expression into the dreamscape of my own mind, which allowed me to be free and fly through the realms of consciousness instead of being stuck by gravity to the world; powerless. I found the Lord of the Rings trilogy by J.R.R Tolkien in my grandmother's house and spent the entire summer reading all six (yes, it's six not three) books there. And I did the same next summer, re-reading them for the sheer enjoyment which they brought me. 

    I had an inexplicable sense of joy when I became immersed into this otherworldly realm of fantasy and fiction. A sense of wonderment and adventure, which was something I could never get in my own life. I wanted to be a part of these worlds, so desperately, to take hold of my own destiny the way that Frodo from the Shire had, or Harry from the books had. My love for these creative wonders felt like a reflection of my soul, incarnate in the world. Little gems which held pieces of my eternal being within those pages. 

     As I got older and the technology in the world got better I started to delve into the Science Fiction side of things. My father had always encouraged me to watch Star Trek with him but I had always been more of a Star Wars fan. The Force and it's Zen Buddhism appeal that Yoda had always more sway in my mind than the cold logic and heroic stoicism of Spock and Captain Kurk. I began reading Stephen King's The Shining and H.P. Lovecraft's The Necronomicon avidly and fell out of the realm of social contact for a good three months, living the deep dark paranoia of Lovecraftian architecture and esoteric psychological horrors, all of which were indescribable. The diction that was used in these novels evoked mental images and visceral emotions of the likes I had never experienced before. I never imagined I could love horror; could love to feel so dark! I felt like a sinner for  loving something so anti-humanity, as I have always strived for the goodness of the human race. Knowledge is power, though.  

    As my friends started to get more and more into Cosplay and anime arts, I began to develop a love for the Victorian era, and the desire for a more Steampunk way of life. Steampunk was the accumulation of everything that I had ever desired in a fantasy. Leather waistcoats, airship pirates, dashing and daring adventurers with cogs, goggles and whale oil galore. The allure of the 18th century and the pungent odor of curing leather drew me in like a bee to a flower. I felt at home with this culture and the more I looked into it the more enamored with it I became. Even though I had never even met someone who liked Steampunk, I felt at home with these strange, eccentric folk who were caught in an anachronistic type of life, one where they were convinced they were living in a Charles Dickens novel.

    I yearn for this kind of lifestyle. I wish to create a career for myself and for others that would join me in making this world what we want it to be. To truly be the creators of our own destiny. I would prefer that we do it by legitimate means but if it means being a little sneaky and accruing a few enemies along the way then so be it! Society is not working out in the general public's favor anyways and it should be up to the citizen on how they wish to live out their lives. Why must we conform to the system of our current government and adhere to progress; some of us don't wish to progress! We wish to keep things simple. Maybe we left some pieces of the puzzle back there as we were blindly rushing ahead to ensure that the rat race must continue.

   What I'm trying to say is this: The creativity that encapsulates my attention is that in the what-ifs, and it seems to me that this is true for most of my peers here in America. We dwell and wonder about the romantic aspects and lifestyles that these fictions bring to mind. Why can't we make them a reality? They were created in the minds of humans, and thus should it not be possible to live out those dreams in reality? Perhaps that's what we're striving for with this Virtual Reality craze recently. The opportunity to truly express those inner desires for living out a freedom of expression. I want my pirate crew and my Steampunk airship to ride the skies with across the horizon, and out into the sea of space. Who's with me?!?

    

My Life. Part 5.

Living life on my own terms

Doing the day-to-day seemed to be simple

    A common theme in my life is to take action after much self contemplation. The problem with that is that I forget to communicate my thoughts with those whom it affects the most. And that I forget to take into account whose lives I'll be jumping into after I take action. In hindsight things would've gone a lot smoother for me if I had let those whose lives I was important in know what my current thought processes were before I took action. It probably has something to do with the fact that I was an out of control little bugger, and no one really knew what I would do next, and yet everyone wanted to have a say in that. I was searching for my independence, so could you blame me for being a little devil-may-care?

    I told my father that I was on a plane back from New Zealand, and I got in contact with my mother who picked me up from the airport. I spent a whole three days with her in which I learned that she was experiencing a major psychotic episode of paranoid delusion where she assumed that the 'Wiccan practitioners' were casting devilish curses and laughing at her through seemingly random symbolism that she was finding. I was quite distraught to see her in this state, and was thoroughly confused. I called my old time friend Sheldon and he told me to come over to his apartment that he was renting with the help of a friendly trolley driver. I did so by calling a taxi which cost me around $80(!). I learned there that Sheldon had been doing way too much cocaine and crack, two things which I don't personally do, but since he was my friend I decided I wasn't going to pass judgement. I left his place shortly after and found my way back to my father's house, for my brother Anthony's wedding.

    The wedding was lovely, it was on Anna Maria right on the beach, with all of the friends whom I had known for a while growing up with Anthony. I stayed with my father for two weeks during this time. I was convinced by my father to buy a scooter, and got my old job back as a chef. I found an apartment through craigslist with decent rent that wasn't too far away from work, and lived there for a good three months. Then I found out the lease holder was a rapist (Sheldon got sexually assaulted one night he spent over) and I moved out as soon as I could find another place. Unfortunately that meant living in the heart of the ghetto in Bradenton, Florida. I lived there for only one month; there was a plethora of cockroaches, and the place smelled god-awful. I didn't judge while I was there but I did not like this place one bit. I'm not sure why my father let me live there. Was it through apathy? Or something entirely different?

    Desperate, I went over to my fathers' once again to look for apartments and managed to find a very good place to live in the south part of the island, with a beach view. It was a communal living situation with four bedrooms sharing one bathroom and kitchen area. I lived there for the next seven months until finally there was a falling out at my job and the place shut down for an indefinite amount of time. I didn't have enough money to pay for rent to wait it out, so I decided I was going to travel once again, this time I bought a one-way ticket to Portland, Oregon, and had found a job being a door-to-door activist for an eco cause out there. 

    I wasn't sure where I was going to sleep and I made some friends on the bus who seemed to know more about the world than I, so I was more than willing to group up with them instead of trying to get a job where I would be miserable at. At first there were three and a dog but I quickly realized that the one with the dog was very very ignorant. I managed to hold myself back from physically attacking the guy from some of the nonsense that was coming out of his mouth, but the other man and I were on the same page when we were presented with an opportunity to ditch the guy. Turns out I was the only one who actually had the means to live, and this guy made me spend almost $200 on him while I naively agreed to it, in the form of food and hotel rooms when we weren't sleeping outside. 

   When I decided enough was enough was when I found out this guy was indebted to a drug dealer from the past and the dealer was forcing him to sell weak edibles playing them off as being good. I had moral objections to that so I sent him on his merry way with a backpack and even gave him some money. I just wanted to be done with him. I joined up with a new road-dog (travel buddy) who called himself Pippy and played the Ukelele. He showed me ways to get around in the world and made me feel safer than I ever had with these two other homebums. Already on my trip to Oregon I had been in Eugene twice and Portland once.

    Pippy had a friend who knew a mushroom grower and we had a chemical experiment where we made some trippy lemonade out of some Amazonian Cubensis butts. Over a pound of them and about a gallon of lemon juice concentrate was used in some cheesecloth and we waited a whole three days while it extracted. The result was fabulous and we drove up to Portland with a mason jar of the tincture in our hands, and the knowledge that this was a gift from the heavens. We proceeded to dose the entirety of the Portland riverside hippy and dirty kid community with mushroom tincture that really knocked you on your ass. Just, so good. I met this group of five younger hippies who were trying to hop a train into southern Oregon. 

    I linked up with them and accidentally lost my road-dog, which was OK. I knew that he was safe and now I knew how to handle myself a little better as a homeless kid in the USA. So after a couple of nights of failed attempts at catching a train we finally caught one one night, only to discover that we had hopped on before the yard, where all the cops check the trains to make sure no one is doing what we were! We almost got caught, but thankfully we realized what was happening and ran for the road, and we were in the clear, though we hadn't gotten far. We decided the best course of action was going to be hitchhiking. We hitched all the way down the coast in a matter of a week, from Portland down to Ashland, Oregon. There one of the travelers had taken us to return a dog which was being held from this guy who wasn't responsible enough to take care of it, but now was seeming to have changed for the better.

    To be continued...

Peace, Love, and Harmony

~Faaabs

My life. Part 4.

Turning my back against the world as I know it

I knew I had no clue what I was doing. That's why I did it!

    So turning back the page a little bit. I finally graduated from high school, and celebrations were in order. In less than two weeks I was on a Greyhound bus from Sarasota, Florida to Manchester, Tennessee to go to a three-day music festival. Bonnaroo 2013. It was amazing, just me and a tent with a sleeping bag. Except for the last day which I woke up in an island surrounded by rainwater. Yeah, I've never been one for dry humor anyways. 

    From there I spent more time up in South Elgin, Illinois with my mother's side of the family, making sure to see them before I took off to the other side of the globe. I spent six weeks out there before visiting my half-brother James who lived in San Francisco. He invited me to come out to Outside Lands 2013 music festival with the promise that I could stay in his apartment in the meantime. I did, and I went, but being the INFP introvert that I am, hardly left the apartment and hardly even spent time with my brother when I was in the festival grounds anyways! I was there for ten days too. It's things like that that I look back on and kind of regret, because I feel like I missed out on something. I had fun, in my own way, but in the long run I have fun like that anyways and it's more akin to comfort than fun. 

    So after a thirteen hour flight I landed in the north island of New Zealand, in the biggest city of Auckland, home to just over a million citizens. Not that many, and even less true Kiwis (which is what the locals refer to themselves as) in that place than elsewhere, most of the people being of Asian descent. I.E.P, or International Exchange Program, was the company whom I paid to help get me situated into the land of the Kiwi, whoch ended up being a great decision on my part. At the young age of eighteen I never felt lost or out of touch with my surroundings because of the resources and help that IEP provided for me.

    Within two weeks I was on a bus to Hawke's Bay, NZ, heading out to work on an Organic farm. I learned some Muay Thai, and how to make a real outdoor barbeque, as well as how to communicate with many Europeans. Then I was off to Wellington where I spent the next three weeks blowing $2000 with no reservations. I had a blast. I stayed at the Rosemere Hostel where there were people of all ethnicities coming together to make a living and enjoy themselves. The bars were literally minutes away from where we slept, and I found a beautiful place just a fifteen minute walk away where I would meditate every morning. That really helped center me out and ground me, much better than coffee in my opinion!

    I took a ferry down to Picton, after stopping by an outdoors shop to pick up camping supplies. I envisioned a grand outdoors solo adventure for myself, but didn't know the first thing about outdoors life. The ferry connects the two islands and is about a three and a half hour journey. So after a couple nights in Picton I went down the road less traveled, which wound its way across the coast of the south island via foot and thumb. I got picked up by some oyster farmers in New Zealand who agreed to take me where I was going if I would join them for their day of work out on the water. Afterwards one of the men let me live on his farm in Blenheim for several days and had me work his grapes for room and board. He dropped me off in the town proper and I got another job at a hostel, doing day labor very similar to what I had just done.

    The hostel could hardly find me any work and I left after about three weeks there. I hitched a ride with a group of four french people who had a van going down to Christchurch, and we stayed at a cheap hostel there. I stayed longer than they did, actually, because they didn't think it was a clean enough place to live at. I didn't care, and I went out and found a job with South Pacific Seeds as a Roguer, which meant I got to spend all of my time either being driven or walking out in fields. I was with Czech, Romanian, Italian and Irish people, as well as several Kiwis. I had a blast. I moved apartments to be closer to work and learned how to play darts there. I had a ton of fun while it lasted.

    I had been told there was a job I had qualified for with the same company in a small ski town called Methven that I followed. I decided to walk and eventually hitched a ride out there. I didn't know what I now know about packing light, and it was a real struggle, but a kind person turned around and gave me a ride after sticking my thumb out for one for a while. I bought a week's worth of rent and a week's worth of groceries and called the company the day before to confirm my job. They told me they had no idea what I was talking about, and that all the positions for that job had already been filled up. I got very depressed and didn't know what to do.

    I looked up all of the local backpackers hostels in the area and finally found some work as a housekeeper for room and board. I enjoyed it thoroughly and went through a couple short jobs in the meantime which kept falling through. I eventually found a job listing on a community board near the center of town with Cairnbrae Seed Cleaning, which paid me well and I even had a neighbor who gave me a ride to and from work every day. It couldn't have been better, in my opinion. I worked there for three months and with the money I made, went skydiving and bought myself a ticket back into the states to see my brother's wedding.

I'll continue this tomorrow, faithful reader!

Peace, Love, and Harmony

~Faaabs

    

My life. Part 3.

So... You're telling me that there isn't a point?

I refuse to believe that. But why do I still feel so lost?

    I began my own quest into spirituality in the seventh grade. I had to take the school bus every day to school and we always arrived an hour early, which made me very sleepy before class. I began spending a lot of time in the school's library. At first it was for the comfortable leather couches in there, for sleeping of course, though under the guise of doing my homework. And then I began doing some searching on the computers there. I discovered this new skill called Lucid Dreaming and found forums with thousands of members dedicated to the pursuit of conscious dreaming. I became very interested in this and started practicing myself and keeping a record of my dreams.

    The border between dreams and spirituality is transparent. I fluidly crossed into the realm of Astral Projection, Meditation, Universal Principals, the power of Thought, and the illusion of Reality though I also sifted through a lot of misinformation along the way. I had to develop a keen sense of discernment because I was so young and there was so much content out there, most of it being bullshit garbage that was designed to get your money from you. I studied UFO's, alien life forms, binaural beats, science fiction and fantasy as well as government conspiracy theories and free-energy technologies.

    I eventually purchased a guidebook called Our Ultimate Reality by Adrian Cooper which truly ignited my spiritual fire and my thirst for knowledge. I read that book from cover to cover, was fully engrossed in its teachings and began to truly question the world around me and what it meant to be a human being on the planet earth. I was instilled early with the belief that the one truly beneficial thing a person can do is to be of service to others before serving oneself.  This made sense to me. If you can give something to somebody else, why would you chose not to? 

    I began to use that book as a foundation for how I lived my life. Still spending most of my time in the library at school, I began to refine my searches based on what I had learned to shore up gaps in knowledge and gain information from other sources to match up what I had learned from what they were teaching. It added up! We are not just physical beings, I learned. We are metaphysical and have multi-dimensional consciousness. We have dreams that don't exist on this physical plane, what was that supposed to mean? All of these questions that I was hungry to answer.

    I got a job my junior year of high school after I turned sixteen, according to the dictation of my father. I was developing a severe addiction to video games, which was fine. I had nothing else to do, and the school I was attending had no scholarly culture about it. The teachers were obsessed with making sure their students passed their tests so they could get better district grades for the high school so in turn the teachers would get bonuses for the sheer number of students passing their grade. All you had to do was the bare minimum and you would be fine. I was always good about taking short bursts of raw information and processing it internally and just remembering what was taught. Studying was not a thing that I did, and homework was rarely done either. I still managed to get out of high school with a 3.5GPA. 

    My job was working in an Italian Restaurant as an "Apprentice Chef". I found out that I hated working in restaurants, but I loved learning. "Everybody has got to eat." and "It's good to put a trade under your belt." were all things that I was told as I was doing the day-to-day, school,work,sleep, repeat cycle. I spent hardly any money, and convinced my father to buy me a one-way ticket to New Zealand. I paid a company to help find me resources in the country and keep me able to survive for a year. It was a great experience.

   But what was it all for?

I'm going to write a few more of these posts, but for now I'm signing off.

Peace, Love, and Harmony

~Faaabs

My life. Part 2.

What have I got to lose?

What have I still to gain?

    I was born in Hoffman Estates, Illinois. My father had two sons before me, and the same for my mother. An only child with four half-brothers who share genes with me has been an experience. Shortly after my birth, my father and mother decided it would be best to move us to Florida. My father's parents followed suit shortly after, and paradise was ripe for the picking.

    Unfortunately, this was not the case. Unbeknownst to my father, or perhaps known but deemed in his mind irrelevant, my mother was going through a spiritual crises and had developed mental issues in her brain which caused her to act out in a cycle of manic-depression every two to three years. Now diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, she is acting in a more positive light towards her situation. But back then... Confusion and the internalization of anger within my mother caused a split in their marriage, eventually causing them to get divorced. My father carried on doing what he does best, working, and my mother sought a new direction in life as well as a new, female life partner. Most of these decisions were hastily made, and I was thrown between the two and forced to see counselors and move schools constantly as a young child as the court system tried their best to understand the situation and find out which parent was most suited to take care of me. 

    Meanwhile, to escape from the chaos for a small period of time, my grandparents became the main pillar in all of my and my brothers' lives. I was to take a flight from Tampa International Airport every summer since the age of two years old to Chicago O'Hare Airport and spend the summer break spending time in a stable household, being taken care of by a loving grandmother and a caring grandfather. I interacted with my aunts and uncles and their children, and had some semblance of fun. To keep us busy we would participate in a dance program, as well as being present for Sunday church and many family gatherings where we would stuff our faces and then go swim until dark.

    I went into a program at a public school for the intellectually gifted in first grade, and got to relax a little bit and disconnect from the other students. I enjoyed it, as we were given peculiar tasks such as critical thinking and creative studies to develop less focused on areas of study, ones that weren't as touched on in a standard public classroom setting. This was short lived, as I moved again to a different area in Florida and started the whole process of friend-building and learning my surroundings over again.

    It wasn't until the fifth grade that I settled into an area with my father. I had been bouncing back and forth between my mother and my father, sometimes for a year, sometimes half a year, and now it was decided that I was to spend the school years with him and see my mother on regular basis, starting out at once a week and then moving back to once every two weeks for two days at a time. I had lacked the social skills to verbally express myself fully and this basically meant that I got locked inside of my own shell with no self-esteem to fully express myself in the world. 

    The one form of expression that I latched onto and made my first friend with was skateboarding. The other was video games. I started playing video games at the very young age of three years old, with the PC and Nintendo 64 being my main sources. When I was staying with my mother, my father would get me video games from the Blockbuster to play on Playstation 2 or original Xbox and that would be my weekend. I got very good at enduring long hours in front of a screen and learned absolutely nothing about myself in the process. I had a lot of fun though.

    I skateboarded for ten years! I made some great friends in the sixth grade who were five to eight years older than I and I learned all about "culture". Which meant partying, smoking, and generally being a little mischievous twat to everyone else. Skateboarding in places that you didn't belong in and running away from the cops was a pretty normal afternoon for us. I had a lot of fun with my first friend who became best of buddies with me. We skateboarded nearly every day together. 

    I'll continue this in another post, it's getting a little long.

Read on, dear reader.

Peace, Love, and Harmony.

~Faaabs

My life. Part 1

Am I missing something?

The quest for knowledge is the road less traveled.

    I'm searching for a sense of identity. I don't want this post to just be about some regurgitated garbage that I heard somewhere five years ago. I want to clearly express my current feelings and avoid the all-too-easy route of summing up my problems and explaining them by using old analogies, metaphors, and misquoted statements by famous people that I learned somewhere at some point in my past. Helpful as they are, I'm making a personal statement right here to take responsibility for my own current mental state and state of being at this point in my life.

    So, to get started, let's address the title. I feel fed up with my current existence. I got consumed in altruistic pursuits and enraptured in this quest to be this Angel to those who were less fortunate that I was at that current point in time. I became so happy being able to provide for others, sometimes for mutually beneficial pursuits but more often than not to my own personal loss. I felt happy being able to give back to my friends and community. I felt like I was finally contributing to society.

    Had I lost sight of what was truly important? Is where I am at now just the Universe's way of telling me that I was doing it wrong, that I put too much trust in my fellow man and that I ought not to have? Why should I believe that? It wasn't in the egotistical pursuit of gain that I performed all these acts of random kindness. I simply wanted to perform random acts of kindness, and instill the feelings within myself within the world, in the hopes that I was sewing seeds for the future. Seeds of benevolence, gratitude, and trust in one another. Was I giving to the wrong people, and being blinded by what should have been the right choice?

    I should probably give some background into my life. I shall do so in my next post.

Thank you for reading, as always.

Peace, Love, and Harmony.

~Faaabs