L4R

Somebody Stole My Laptop, This Evening!

2009-07-16T21:32:00.000-07:00

Thursday, July 16th, 2009: 5:30pm: At the Portland Central Library:

Somebody Stole My Laptop, This Evening!

I needed to print out an employment resume (& financial information for my landlord). Since my laptop, on the third floor (on the special study tables, made just for laptops), was not connected to the library's printers, I had to jump onto one of their computers, pull out the files (since I emailed myself it), jog down to the second floor, print out for one lovely dime.

As I rose back up to the third floor, the librarian hawked me, "Was that your laptop," she glazed with her concerned owl eyes of grace. Plus, the librarian lady asked the last remaining hispanic gangster-like twenty-something year old man (who is always there), his shruddle followed with a prompt disapearance (as he was gone when I discovered this alteration to my life). My calm response shruddled "My bad," and the cop gave me some good advice, which included a number (to report it missing, to the cops), and to report it missing to the library, down stairs.

6pm: as the library was closing: I fuddled back to my building, partook in some free watermellon from the second floor lobby. Dropped off my bag. Max up to the Lloyd Center as I cell-phoned my brother this situation, then jogged up Quest at SE 31st/Holgate for community health dinner. Their heart went out to me about this situation. But I am not going to let this get me down. "Do I look sad?" I asked the man I was eating with, "It probably didn't hit you yet," he answered. I replied, "But what can I do? I mean, people will cry. That is what we do. But you cannot cry forever. You eventually have to get over it. So. I am not going to let this tear me down"

LAPTOP DETAILS:

My laptop is grey. It is a Gateway. Pentium 4. It has a Freegeek and Revolution Hawaii stickers. It had this "DVD06" DVD, featuring my home video project. One GB of RAM. 40 GB of Hard Drive. It was originally Windows XP. Now, it has Linux' Ubuntu 8.10 on it. The background wallpaper is a picture of Michael Jackson when he was around ten. The wallpaper is actually the picture to my Facebook profile. I do not even have the serial number to this laptop: so, should I still report it to the cops without the serial number, will they take me serious without it? The laptop also had a wireless card and white headphones. Plus, a partly broken black power cord. The DVD drive can come out of it, too, plus, the cover to that drive is missing. The Caps Lock key is missing off it, too. There are hours of DVD recorded home videos on its drive. There are unique folders, to help organize my thoughts, my things, my world, folders like the following:

Home, Museum, Club, Office, Inbox, Log, Pog, Dog, Mog, DVD07, DVD06, DVD08, DVD09, Tog, Nog. Before it had Ubuntu 8.10, it had version 8.04. It has three basic partitions on it. One is around twenty GB: this one is almost full of my home videos. Another is around five GB. I had a lot of things saved on it. A lot of projects that I have been working on for most of my life.

My Problem:

All of those projects. That is what upsets me. Not the missing computer. But all of the things I was working on. But not things for me, either. It was not projects for my video games. I actually don't play much video games. Or movies. Or anything that is much fun. So. It always seems to get me down. I always have this heart for making the world a better place. I have left my computer out and about before. Even at Powell's. For hours. But it is just so very weird. I did not even like the computer. I told my brother, just last night, when we were talking about this, that I do not even like computers, well, I do not even like phones, or talking. As he stood silent for a second, I tried explaining that I only use them to get things done, to help people. But that is my only problem. All of those projects. I felt like I lost my heart. I feel like I don't even want to work on things anymore. But then again, I need to learn my lessons. Get back up. Do more backups. Do not stay down. Get back out there. Through Jesus.

But I am not going to let all of this get me down. That is what I am tellig people, everywhere I go.

I do not even have the serial number to this laptop: so, should I still report it to the cops without the serial number, will they take me serious without it?

If You Wear It, Bear It!

2009-07-01T13:35:00.000-07:00

Put on the uniform, in your heart, first, before you come apart.

Easy for me to say. Since I do not have one, officially. Not yet. But then again. I have thought about it. Should you wear your uniform? I have thought about that for years. I understand if you have problems with the uniform. When I say you, I am first talking about myself. I use to have a problem with it. But you really have to think about it. You have to ask yourself. Where and when did it all begin? Why were they wearing uniforms? Who's idea was it? Why where they doing it? Was it worth it? Well. I cannot answer that question for you. But. Personally. I would have to say yes. It was worth. I mean. Sure. It depends on the person. Because. If you put on the uniform. That does not mean anything. If you do not put on Christ, inside. People do that. Sure. When people do that. Then. It makes the uniform look bad. You may know somebody who did not take care of their uniform. When they were not wearing it. When they were elsewhere. Doing other things. Saying other things. Not walking the talk. When nobody was looking. They were not representing Jesus. And. Sure. that happens. And that makes me..... how do I say...... sad. You can easily say. Therefore! I will not wear it. It might make me look bad. It might offend somebody. Or...... there are other reasons (or excuses) why one may not wear a uniform (but in doing so, we miss the point) ...........

Or to a lesser extent. It may be the appearance of the uniform. I understand. I do not believe in being immodest. I believe in fashion. Looking good. But. You need to stop for a second and think about this. Now. I would have to say. First. I don't think the uniforms look that bad. Sure. We could work on it. Redesign it. To fit this generation. Maybe. We could think about that. But that is besides the point. Because. It is not that bad. They look fine. Honest. But. Say. Hypothetically. Even if they didn't. It would not matter. Because Jesus matters more. We want to represent Jesus. We want to label ourselves, so to speak. We want to be available for people. What way is better? We want to be set apart. We want to be in the world. But we do not want to be the world. You do not have to wear a uniform. But it is very recommended. You do not know what you are missing. Opportunities are awaiting. There are open doors. But the uniforms may be your only way in, your only foot in the door. You just never know!

The only problem that I would have with uniforms.

If you wear it. Then bear it. That is all that I can say. Put it on, internally, before you go out, externally. I mean, sure, we make mistakes. Do not wait until you are perfect before putting on your uniform. But you should pray in the morning. Ask God to put on your spiritual uniform, the armor of Christ, before you get dressed for the day. Do not take the uniform as mere tradition. Sure. That is what it is. But it is more than that. It is not just tradition. I mean. How do I say that? Tradition is not a bad word. I use to have a problem with that word. But it is only bad if you do not do it for Jesus. Out of the heart. I mean. Really. Tradition usually becomes heartless. Brainless. It becomes isolated from love. And that is the biggest problem with anything. But it does not have to be. If you wear it. Then that is good. But do not forget why you are wearing it. Pray, everyday, that you do not forget.......................

If you wear it, bear it!

I Saw It Coming....

2009-06-27T13:34:00.000-07:00

Before I tell you what I saw:

Favorite music? All of my life. I would say Michael. That is what I would say. People would get mad. How could I like a creep. No. He is not. I don't think. Actually. He made mistakes. But he was not as bad as they say. So. My first answer. Normally. Would be Jackson. Then Spears. But his was first. It moves you. Inspires you to go beyond the box. I could write a book about all of this. I just might.

1985: Born in Oregon, USA. 1992: Ventured to Disney Land. Saw a 3-d video of him. I use to pretend that I was him. Age eight. I am going to be up there. Just like him. Someday. Sing like him. Or better. I was going to inspire. Like him. Well. It starts with looking at the man in the mirror.

Because you can only change yourself. It starts there!

It starts with............. you.....

But back to my header. Michael did not......

....................disturb me.................

.......When he died..... at first. I thought he fell. Off stage. Thursday. Or something. It was rumored before it was confirmed on Facebook. It happened so fast. I was shocked. I was looking forward to the summer. Don't get me wrong. I was so excited. I would see him. I would. I wanted to. I am a fan. Of course. I am still sad. Forgive me. Don't get me wrong. I still have a heart. I care. It matters. But moreover. You do not have to agree. But let me voice it out. That I saw this coming. Not to say that I am an expert. That I saw Obama. That he was going to be president. That I was going to Hawaii. The list goes on. But nevermind that. It is beside the point. Forgive me. All I am saying is. It is not the end of world. Well. To an extent. It is. I think. But for the sake of argument., we will just say.............

.......it is not the end of the........

......world. Yes. It is. In a way. I believe Jesus. Anytime. He will take us. Take who? Those who are in Him? What? In what? Well. I believe that the world is getting darker. No. Wait. I mean. Yes. I think that there will be no end. Forgive me. I mean. Someday. A King will come. Hint hint. He will conquer the world. Or was it already His to begin with? He will be environmentally friendly. Just like EO, captain MJ. There will be a King. He will solve global warming. And wars. Problems. And it will be so good. That it will last forever. That is what I think. It will be better than the Garden of Eden. So. It is not the end in that sense. But in another sense. It will be an end of something. How do I say. An era. Dispensation. Time period. Way of life. Culture. World. Age. Whatever. I think. I believe. It will be. So. Therefore. Things are getting worse. What? Yeah. Sorry. Sure. Things are getting better in a sense. There is grace. But that comes from. How do I say. That King. Who is coming again. What. Yes. Now. I say that to say that it is ok. It is not that bad.

It is not that bad.

In comparison to what it could be. Or to what it is. One person dies. That is bad. But people die every day. And he has been dying for all of his life. And people are born dead. What. Am I crazy. No. It is just. How do I say. How I see the world. people do not live forever. It is sad. But we need to be ready for them. We should work for destiny. For joy. We should not just sit back. It is the end of the world. Woe is me. Everything sucks. We should not. Because God rocks. Because life rocks. Only because of Him.

Michael died. Big deal. What. Do not send me hate mail. It is a big deal. But not as big of a deal in comparison to things that we can alter. I am sure we could have stopped him. Or somebody could have helped. But it is said and done, now. We can learn from the past. But we cannot stay there. We have places to go. People to meet. Things to do. Let's go. Not to be workaholics. Too busy. Too overwhelmed. But we should be open to being active. It is sad. It is disturbing. When anybody dies. I am even sad when a kitten dies. I have a heart. But I want to have eternal perspective, too. I want to be set on things that I can make better. Michael has been dying for years. I could see it in his eyes. I have always seen it. Sorry. I saw it back in 1993. But I was too scared to talk about.

Michael Jackson had dying eyes.

Saw it back in 1993.

Do not sue me. I have a heart. I do care. But I would also see it in others too. It is weird. Not to say that I am an expert. That I can see into your soul. But to get myself off this keyboard. From talking about. I will just say.

I saw it coming!

Get it Directly

2009-06-27T13:33:00.000-07:00

I already wrote the following, elsewhere. Forgive me. But this is my story. Don't take this personal. The following is my story. I would say this to anybody. Please forgive me for what I am about to say.

Get it directly.

I have always taken pills. Calcium. Vitamins. But the older I get. The more I prefer to go more direct than that. Pills are good. Don't get me wrong. Especially when we can't get it from out diet. And that happens. But the older I get. Still. And don't take this personal. But I try going direct. In other words. I want to get it from the fruits, the vegetables, the whole grains, nuts, fish (Omega 3)...... Pills are good. Don't get me wrong. Don't get mad at me. I am not too big of a health freak. I have fasted one day per week, for like two times in my whole life. That is not much. I try exercising. Basketball. A little. I read books. My mother has read bookshelves on it. And she knows people. And my older sister.... but not to say that I am an expert.... or that they are..... I do eat meat. Not too much. Maybe not red meats. I feel better this way. Not that you don't. Well. Am I talking too much about food right now? This might all be beside the point. Excuse me. I just think that pills are indirect. They are not as good. There seems to be a weakness in them (not that they don't have strengths). Ok. I know you would have to disagree with that. That is fine. I understand. But it is like partial. A pill will contain part of the fruit. The plant. The mineral. That might be good. But then again. It is still only part of it. We may know that the one part is what helps. So we make a pill out of that one part. But who to say that the one part works without the rest of the plant? Like, you cannot have one without the other. It just might be missing something. An ingredient. This is so complex. The body is so detailed. Food is so deep. It was meant to be eaten in the original form. Not mutated. Lacking all the ingredients to a food. Each vitamins does so many things. It is hard to pinpoint just one and name that one the hero. It is true to some extent. I know. But it is just not the whole story. I think. Alright. That is it. Sorry. I could be wrong. But it makes sense to me. There are exceptions. We will have to take pills at times. But for the most part. I would rather take the more direct approach. Go for the whole package. Get all the pieces in the puzzle. For my body. Because it is all so complex. But this might all be beside the point. Please forgive me for my views.

Therefore, or back to our topic.

I have taken the normal supplements. Not so much muscle building. I would. But I would rather go for the more natural approach. But anyways. My Mother has taken a lot of pills. For bipolar. For a lot of things. Long story. She is only age 58 or so, right now. But she ran into a lot of health problems. And the doctors barely got it right. Actually, only a few doctors would get it right. Pills do not always do it. There are always side effects.

But the main side effect for the direct approach is simply a better life.

Michael Jackson died, 14 years ago!

2009-06-26T11:37:00.000-07:00

Before I ask, "What do you got..." I first must say....

June 25, 2009: Michael Jackson did not "die"!

He has been dying slowly. I heard him talk of Jesus. Being like Jesus. I saw him in a video. He talked about it. But moreover. He was slowly dying.

But are you slowly dying, moreover?

Article: Elvis Presley's daughter knew this: Fourteen years ago:

http://www.etonline.com/news/2009/06/75799/index.html

Video: his children: custody battles: debt: uncertainty:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/06/26/michael-jacksons-kids-tod_n_221353.html

I would not. Michael Jackson said. He would not.

But it killed him. He has been dying for decades.

But who is next? Britney Spears. Famous people. Do not quote me on that. I mean, people die. The Joker died, last year. Superman. Elvis. Forgive me. Sorry. But it makes sense to me. Death is not that bad. Not as bad as what may happen after death. I have never been dead. I cannot tell you what happens after death. But I do believe that eternity matters more than life. Life represents eternity. Fate is decided during life. It is that simple. Michael Joseph Jackson: 1958-2009. Where is he, right now? No comment. I can assume. If you do bad. You go to the bad place after death. No. What. Did I say no? Yes. Because it is not about being good. We are born bad. That is what I believe. I think. I believe in Jesus, that He died, was buried, rose again, to take away my bad, so that I can be who I need to be, so I can follow Him, so that life can be better. For the meaning to life. That joy. That identity. That purpose. That is why it is not shocking. Because without Jesus, life falls apart. Meaning that people die without Jesus, sooner or later. It has been happening since the dawn of time. Now. Here is my disclaimer. MJ talked about Jesus. Being like Him. For the children. I heard him say. I saw him in a video. Saying that he would not do anything sexual with children. They slept in his bed. But he slept on the floor. He was a trusting father with children. That is what he said. That is what people say. I do not know if he is lying. But I will believe him. I don't know why. But MJ talked about JC (Jesus). That is nice. I could assume either way with that. Or with the videos. The media. You could take sides. Many will put him down. Others will support him. But I would rather stand in the middle. He should have been more careful. Above approach. But there would always be bad news about him. But I would rather take what I can from him. I had a best friend, once. She died. I am sad about it. But I would rather take these things as a challenge for myself, first, in the motivation in not doing the same. Dying is almost like suicide. Which is selfish. Don't get me wrong. Somebody could kill me. I could get sick. That is not suicide. Alright. MJ did not kill himself. People usually don't. But, first of all, I would not even want to come close to it. I would not do anything questionable. Or dangerous. You can disagree. You can say that I do do questionable things. But I mean. Stand in the middle of the road. Car runs me over. I did not kill myself. But I did assist in it. So, first of all, I would not want to live on the cliff, on the line, close to death. I would not want others to do that. I want to be an example. I want to be an inspiration for others. Encouragement. A light. Salt in the world. With passion. MJ would say the same. Michael Jordan would say the same. Don't get me wrong. That is good. But that may be. How do I say. Best. Really. You can do good. But you have to be good to do good. People do good things. But we are born evil. I think. I should quote my Bible. But we can do good only through Jesus. It is what gets us up in the day. Each day. In the morning. Keeps us together. It gives us hope over dope. It gives us life. It gives us courage. People do good things. Michael Jackson did good things. But that is not the whole story. He was a success. He was a failure. But for the most part. What matters most. Is what Jesus thinks. That is all. I think. I am not going to argue my case. Not to sound like a weird religious freak or anything. A Jesus freak. in love with my words. My things. So closed-minded. Lacking love. Grace. Jesus. Love. I have to say the world love. Again. It is a very deep word. We love Him because He first loved us. But I find meaning in Jesus. And we fall apart from living. It is that simple. Apart from Jesus. We do. We only live through grace. Through daily invisible miracles. Life is a miracle. That is why we die. It is simple not a miracle to die. It happens. And moreover, we need support. People. Community. Fellowship. Support. Support. Really. Help. Accountability. Love. I love that word. Love. MJ lacked that. To some extend. He did. He had some support. He talked about Jesus. And I don't know where he is. But I cannot stay here. All day. Thinking. I wonder. You know. It does not matter. Not as much. In comparison with me. Not to be selfish. But what can I do. Be good to inherit the after life. No. I do not think you can. It does not make sense. How could I be good enough to get such a...... What would you call it. But. Jesus. That is all I have to say. Not be preaching. Ok. I am just saying. That when things happen in life. I can only take it as a challenge. I will have to ask for help. From me. From God. From others. And from time. I mean. Give it time. Pray. Calmly. I was just saying. When things happen. First, I must take that as something I will not do. Not that I won't do it. But then again. It is more important to be focused. Not on the negativity. Not on what I am not suppose to be doing. Can't do this. Can't do that. Can't say that. And the list goes on. Not that I won't say those things. And I should say those kinds of things. I should know what I should or should not do. But I cannot just think about destruction. I cannot be so shocked at death. At bad things. We live in a pathetic world. Sorry. But we live in an era of pain. But we must choose from it. We must choose life. Through only Jesus. Not through Michael Jackson. We must choose destiny. It takes time. I pray. I do a lot of things. Little by little. It starts in character. It is in perspective. It is in our values. Our heart. Jesus is in my heart. With oatmeal in my bowl, is Jesus in your soul? That is the question. And my answer is yes. And negativity will not rule in me. I will be aware of it. I will call it my nog. Almost like egg nog. I will not be ignorant, brother. Now I sound like Hulk Hogan. Ewwww. He could be next to die. I don't know. Never mind, brother. But, more over, I will be focused on what I can do. What I can choose. On doing the best things out of the right heart, through Jesus. I have to say Jesus. Jesus is God. God is love. You do not have to agree. You can laugh at that concept. That is alright. But I believe it. I think it. I feel it. And, therefore, or moreover, then, I will do it, too. I will live it. Love as Dr. Love does. I will. And that is my first point. To be that example. That is what I choose to do when things like this happen. I have to be clear about that. And second. Not only do I want to live it. Not only do I want to not do MJ. I do not want live apart from my skeleton. My Jesus. My strength. My purpose. Not only that. But, moreover, second of all, when things like this happens. I want to be Jesus. No. That was point one. Let me retype this. Moreover, while being Jesus, I want to help others from a Michael Jackson fate, a Joker fate, a Superman 1958 fate, a fate of destruction, a celebrity fate, a Bernie Mac fate, etc. There are so many people. Or a Tiffany Rochelle Cumbo fate, 1986-2003, from Forest Grove, Oregon, USA. Hey. That is what I want to do. I would like to add two more points but that is beside the point. You may think that everything that I write is beside the point. Or too wordy. But I have to ramble. I have to express this. And I kind of feel like ranting right now because of how I am feeling. I should probably do this more often. I should start a new blog and call it my rant blog. Just one long sentence each day. Just type a bunch of words. It is the fastest way to get your thoughts out. And it works. I could almost think as fast as I can type. Wait. I just twisted my thoughts again. I meant it the other way around. And I have to express these words. I feel like I may not get another opportunity like this again. Well. Just kidding. It could happen again. Opportunity happens everyday. That is the miracle of probability. And I will accept the worse. But I will also expect the best. That is a two part clause that I need to copy right alongside of L4OJ, living for only Jesus, since we are all looking for outrageous joy. MJ was looking. I think. He has been dying for over fourteen years. You better believe it. That is why my life mission is for the children. Get to them before they die like MJ. It can happen. No. No. No. It does happen. Everyday. People lose hope. Barack Obama. People lose hope. But hopse does not come from...... it comes from Jesus......... through that..... yeah. Stuff. The truth is out there. Hey. I better be careful what I say. I do not want to be accused of any hate crimes. There was this guy. He knows where I live. He wants to hold my hand. I met him at a place several days ago. I can only be so nice. But I told him no. But listen. I hate anything that is not best. And it is not best to die. Sometimes, it is hard. Like, right now. I will have to drop out of school. I do not ahve the money. Pell grant. Not to be complaining. That I had another week before the drop-out date. I always talk about money. But I am not here to complain. To be negative. But I do want to share. Show you that I have problems. Especially because I would like to later show you my escape from those problems. It is that simple. Because I choose to live. And I know that I feel like dying. I have wrote that a lot in my life. And people get mad at me for writing that. But it is just a doubt. A depression. A hurt. A rejection. People feel. People have thoughts. People get down. And I am a person. And I have bad days. To the points of apathy. I get down for a second when I look away from Jesus. I am so serious. I want to be counseling. I want a camcorder. I feel like I can't do anything. I feel worthless at times. But hey. That is when I forget to ask. To pray. People. Jesus. Look. Wait. Hey. Jesus knows. He is our counselor. I want to be a counselor. I have been a counselor for the last four camp summers for the youth. It hurts me to the point of wanting suicide. But let me state that it does not matter. I mean. Totally. Moreover. Those are not really not my thoughts. I feel a little bad. Satan tells me hell. I am not cursing. Excuse me. He tells me negativity. Worry. Depression. The opposite of love. Trust. Faith. Following Jesus. I look away. It happens everyday. It does. Hey. I am not superman. I am not Jesus. That is why I follow Him. I get down. But deep inside. I do now want death. I want life. Competition. No. I like that. But no. In a way. See. I am just saying that life gets hard. I don't know hat I am going to be doing with my life. But I do know that I care about people. I want to help people live to the best ways possible. And Jesus is the only way. But I am still very generic about all of this. Because it is through Jesus. So. In life. Or through Jesus. What will happen to me. I will pay rent for July, 2009. Next week. I will then be out of money. No school. Move back home. It is not home. Maybe. I don't know. hard to explain. That is right. It will just have to happen. But then again. Here I am. Depressing. No. I will try for the best. Drink tea. Wake early. Go for Jesus. Help others. I am out of money. But I will never be out of Jesus. I will never die, so to speak. But why did he die? Long story. But I can only choose to not. To try not to die. Through Jesus. And, second, help others not do the same. Die. But dying is not simple physical. People die everyday. More over, people are born dead. That is what I think. That is more tragic. I want to born people. Resurrect people. They spent an hour trying to reborn Michael Jackson. But he has been dead for fourteen years. Or for his whole. life. And that is what is more tragic. He did not die, yesterday. He died a long time ago. But am I dead. What will I be choosing? And will I choose to help others? To live. Speaking of Neverland....... Peter Pan said that to die would be an awfully big adventure. To live. However. The children. But in a good way. Through Jesus. Or else. Without Jesus, therefore, hencefore, or moreover, you are dead.........

........That is why Michael Jackson did not die......

.......People are born dead because.......... But I will choose..........

........I will choose two things...............

What more can I give than that?

What do I got that I can give?

Jesus through me.

What do you got? Bring it on!

Written or Spoken Language Exercise

2009-06-25T14:08:00.000-07:00

Written or Spoken Language Exercise

Joseph Arnold: G03397187
Speech 100: Doss
06/25/2009

Written!

A long time ago, there was spoken language. Oral tradition survived by it. Indians would rehearse it near a fire. The Torah (first five books of the Bible), written by Moses, was originally repeated, orally. Presently, spoken language is still playing a huge role. For example, just take a look at how the youth write, their grammar: they write like they speak. Like totally! Slang is a direct product of spoken language. LOL stands for laugh out loud. Therefore, it is also a product of subcultures (people, or teens, who talk in slang, or whatever). Accents can be recognizable, quicker than a play script that lacks special instructions (say this in a Russian accent: this is a written instruction, just for example). Some will even learn better, auditorily, than they do, sequentially (through words).

Children will hear it before they read it. The children in the Hispanic families, in the trailer-park I was raised in, would quickly learn English and Spanish by, say, the age of five. To an extent, spoken language is music. When birds talk, we say that they are singing. It has rhythm. It has tone. It has style (or accent).

Practically, still, language had to be sketched in caves, inside Egyptian pyramids, on stone tablets, on animal skins, paper, or anywhere that is visual. Visual learners learn this way, quite frankly. Oral tradition, apart from written preservation, have been lost (some of it has been, at least, or will be). The strengths of vocalized language (the style, like music, the accents, the meanings expressed [communicated] through the toning, the timing, location, volume, speaker) are still outweighed (thrown off balance) by its weakness. That is, orally, language, history, apart from written preservation, will occasionally disappear. That is not effective, that is not essential. I love talking. I will even write the way that I talk. Sorry. But you may forget what you hear. It goes in one ear and out the other. It may be music to the ear. But the pen is still mightier than the sword. Sticks and bones may break my bones. Criticism (words) can be said out-loud. However, written words will probably do more damage in the long run. They can hold onto what you wrote about them. Throw it back into your face, years later. Which could be a good thing if you are an encouraging writer. The Bible, for example, is encouraging. Need I say more? And that is the beauty in written language.

In the long run, written language, which is visually stimulating, will outlive oral tradition.

Beauty

2009-06-24T22:31:00.000-07:00

5am. Awoke. Today. June 24, 2009. Wednesday. Sister's birthday.

7am. PE class at PCC (Portland Community College): Cascade Campus on Killingsworth (road in Portland, Oregon). Beginning Group Fitness. Biked 1/2 hour to get there. Be balanced on ball. Pushups. Squats. Crunches. Stretches. Cycling. Out of breath. Biked home. Showered. Tea. Did my daily "talk to the homeless" routine. Library. Facebook. Craigslist. Online classes. Waiting for Pell Grant. And on unemployment benefits. Oh my. If I do not get aid. I will drop my classes. I will also move out. That makes me.

Makes me feel out of place.

I ask a lot of questions. Where do I belong. With children. As a youth pastor. But people get mad..... because I also talk about acting..... the list goes on.... still in fork in the road...... still feeling lost without friends..... without a ministry......

But there is beauty in all of this, still......

Tell you more later, because the coffee shop is closing.....

But I am not! Happy birthday, Katie!

Fourteen More Days....

2009-05-13T16:52:00.001-07:00

The countdown has begun.

Fourteen more days.

That is all the time that I am giving myself.
If I do not find a job in two weeks.
I will pay my rent for the month of Jun. Put in my thirty day notice.
And then move back in with my parents.
I mean, my dad.
Back in Forest Grove, OR.
Back in the ghetto trailer park.

I move back to hell.

That is my final decision.
It is playoffs season. It is do or die.
February, 2009: I was fired from my two jobs.
I believe in miracles.
I am not giving up.
I will step it up and give it my all.

I will not die without a fight.

Fourteen more days.

That is it. Then it is the end of the world.

Not really. But it feels that way.

In Jun, I return to homelessness.

I return to government apathy.

Will I be forgotten? Will I give up?

It feels like the end.

But we will see.

We will.

05/12/2009

JOEY ARNOLD

503-367-4695

523 SW 13^th 414: Portland, OR 97205

http://joeyarnold.blogspot.com

joeyarnold@rocketmail.com

My Prayer

2009-04-24T13:42:00.000-07:00

Current Prayer: lj20090424f0143ppj414Library:

Here is my current prayer, my current goals: my current direction: my current mindset: this is where I am, right now: this is what is on my mind, right now: this is what is on my heart: listen, carefully: and at the end, you decide. Will you believe in what I am saying? Do you believe in being simple?

This is my prayer.

Right now, for the summer of 2009.
For my life. For the future.
This is all what I am telling myself.
I think God is speaking through me, moreover.
But that is beside the point.
But the point is about consistency. And thriving.
And this is also a change of direction.
A change in perspective.
A specific shift in goals.
I cannot believe that I am doing this.
I never thought I would do this.
I always thought that this all would be beneath me.
I think I am changing from deep inside.
This is all so hard to explain.
This is all so complicating.
And at the same time, it is also very simple.

But here is my prayer.

Direction.

Opportunity.
AmeriCorp.
Or camp.
Or just any job.
For the summer. Or what about after the summer?
What am I doing with my life?
Why did I have to leave ABC (Bible College)?
Why am I not a youth pastor?
Why am I not making a big difference in this world?
Why am I so poor?
Why am I not dominating the big screen?
Why am I not married?
Like Will Smith? Why this? Why that?

No.

Never mind that for now because I need to wait.
And waiting is somehow connected with faith. With intution.
With following Jesus.
I think.

Faith.

Here is my intuition. What is that, intuition?
My intuition is telling me to stay here.
In Portland, OR, USA. Live a simple life, for now.
Keep it simple.
I have to say this. Keep it simple.
Because I always make things not simple.
And I always get stuck inside rabbit holes.
I always get stuck in a divided spirit.
I always get stuck in the middle of the whole world.
I am always trying to do too much.
I always write too much, too. LOL
No, really. I am seroius.
I am always trying to be the Savior, save the world.
Do it all. Bow down to me.
But no. No. Keep it simple. Focus.
Pace yourself.
What is that faith? No. Faith. I did not forget you.
Ok. Maybe just a little. Sorry, faith.
This is what I am telling myself in life.
We are in a race.

Learn to enjoy the moments.
(the nightmares in life, moreover)

Not just the good Kodak moments.
The secret to life. I think. Goes beyond that.
Learn to have perspective, joy, faith, love, you know.
In the mist of the storm.

Slow and steady. Keep it coming.

Consistency. You can do it. Only through Jesus (L4OJ).
Ministry. We are all called into it.
Do not get burnt out. Never let go..
Follow Jesus. Have that faith. Be that light. Do not worry.
Smile.
Be an example.
Be simple.
Help people out.
Calm down. Do not be so crazy.
Pace yourself. Be above approach.
Prepare yourself for the future.
Set my priorities on Jesus. Early in the morning.
Each day. Be a light, where I am.
That is my decision. To be a living martyr.
That is my prayer.

I must say.

This decision. To live as simple as possible.
This prayer.
Believe it or not.
But for all of my life.
I have always been against such a prayer.
Why should I be a servant?
Why would I choose to live this kind of life?

Php.2:5: 1Jn.4:19: Ro.8:28: Pr.3:5-6.

In other words:

In conclusion, just to keep it simple:
I just want to do AmeriCorp, I think.

What do you think?

You feel Lost.

2009-04-18T16:33:00.000-07:00

Desktop.update.log: lj20090418z0433ppj414:

Have I told you, I was working, two jobs, until two months ago, living downtown Portland, OR, do you ever feel lost, I have been asking a lot of questions, like, where do I belong, in this world, what are my talents, really, I mean, what is the purpose to life, of course, I can do this, I can do that, of course, that is normal, I can do good, you know, but somehow, there is this doubt, have I said this to you before, I think doubt is the opposite of faith, or close to it, I am not exactly sure about this, have I said that to you, before, I can do good, of course, you know, that is normal, I think, but I feel lost, or at least I use to, I think, because, I can do good, but can I do best, or at least better than good, you know, I think the enemy to the best is good, have you heard that before, so, therefore, in the mist of such wonder, such doubt, such whatever that you want to call it, I am coming to a conclusion that my search is actually more normal than I realize, and so, I think my answer to doubt, my hope, my purpose, is within simplicity which is not to be confused with apathy or living absent from faith, or how do I say that, does that make sense, so, in my life, just this past month, I started thinking more about being more normal, I don't mean that I will be absent from my uniqueness, I mean, I am starting to believe in simplicity, and I am only saying that because I have always been oppose such a mindset, I hate to say, and so, my goal, in life, right now, and this is not a joke, my goal has something to do with being a servant, or more over in contributing.

Are you reading all of this, am I communicating, is all of this too deep, why am I so deep, I am not so sure, but I know this is part of the reason why I am seeking to be more simple, or above approach, or all things to all people, or wiser, or not as crazy, and I think the list goes on, but my prayer request, if you do not mind me being so wordy in all of this, has something to do with experience, I just want to be living and working somewhere that can enhance my gifts, part of my gifts have something to do with working with children as a teacher, a tutor, plus, another part has to do with performance as a singer, dancer, comedian, and speaker, plus, my other talents has to do with being a servant, or a researcher, or maybe even a writer, or something. Grr, I need to stop writing, I can write a book about all of this. There is so much to be said.

Can you pray, I am not too sure about everything, but I do know that I am going to get a job, hopefully in the mornings, I can do karaoke, dancing, socialize at night, and better yet, I want to start volunteering at schools or homeless shelters, oh, I could also be in a church choir, etc, etc, etc, LOL, haha, no, but really, thanks for asking, and sorry that I had to write so much, oh, and I am now going to copy and paste this message to a blog or post, oh my, happy Easter, take care.

Pleasing Men.

2009-03-13T12:42:00.000-07:00

The younger I was, the more I was isolated:

Insolated by mysterious talent, playing by myself, pleasing myself, caring for myself, entertaining self, the younger I was, the more I was inside my own head, unaware of the world, minding my own business, since I was always smiling, always busy, never bored, grr.

The younger I was, the more it seems that I didn't care.

The older I get, the more I hesitate.

Specifically, I will tell you that, the older I get, the more I mix it up, the more I hang out nwith a wide variety of people.

I mean, if I hang out with one group, then the other group gets mad. In that case, I feel so unsure who I should please most, how can I be all things to all people?

This is true with church, especially. If I go out and visit a church, especially one that the other church knows nothing about, or is against, that just creates like conflict.

This is what is on my mind.

I mean, grr, why can't I hang out with everybody?

I just want to be led, I want to go from place to place, as needed, in a tent, not literally, but I just want to do my damage on the earth, my skill, my joy, spread it, without being restrain by perception, by jealousy, by opinion, from the fear of men, so to speak.

The Success Through Failure

2009-03-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

I am an alien, I mean, I thought I was, age four, since I was partly deaf, early on, mom schooled me, home was full of books, I tricycled after the garbage truck, the man peeked out, "Go home, kid!"

I ran home, I was scared, age ten, first day at summer basketball camp, I was at my future high school, mom was in the restroom, my eyes opened, the gymnasiums were huge, those college men were Goliaths. While cutting through my park, on my way back to the trailer, the cop stopped me, my eyes widen some more.

Around that time, I also took a shortcut, while we were hiking up the Astoria columns, my friends were going too fast, my brother went along with it, leaving me behind, up the mountain, to the tower, so as I steered off trail, up my own, I got lost. There may have been boys scouts, and people all over, looking for me, but, almost an hour later, one cop knew where to find me, Aunt Karen then wouldn't let me eat those oatmeal cookies that I was yearning for.

Stumbling to the floor, during scrimmage, while seeking to box out my man, at half-court, demanding for an offensive charge, as I acted like I was in the key, at the close of freshmen tryouts, the coaches huddled me over, calmly asserting that I would not be cut, that I could, in fact, be manager, dress good, help out, practice hard, proof yourself, and we'll let you play some games. My hands grew numb as I biked several miles back home through the rain, age fifteen. My classmates, they all thought I was funny because of how I talked, how I was always happy, but months later, those athletes frowned, "Why don't you come to practice any more... Joe Cool, did you quit?" My head dumbed down. The next year, my head was up, I even ran the mile, during my sophomore year practice, at my fastest time, ever, 6.20, I think. That year, however, there was no mercy. There was over a dozen of us cut. It was always my dream to dunk, to play in the NBA. I still think about it, I still love the game. My dad played college, he would dish it out to uncle Jim, man, just like Stockton to Malone, those were the days, right?

During high school, I regret never running for ASB class president: compete against Ander, against Kari, against Blaine, oh man, I love competition. When trying out for plays, McCabe adored my unique style but said that there was just not a spot for me, not one design for my style.

In college, I didn't even try out for basketball. I did try out for the drama team but they didn't think I had what it took. In my third year of college, I finally tried singing, but I was quickly rejected, but they did offer me some private music lessons, but I didn't have the money for that. I did Children Ministry but I would not always be on time. I tried out for a year-long ministry team, called Impact, they sing and help churches all up and down the east coast of America, through Word of Life. They didn't even respond back to me. During my three years of college, I was always applying to other college, I was researching, emailing, applying, to over a hundred of them, all over, and I thought past midnight through them, most nights, stressing my head about the future, with what would I study, where would I go after this, after that, how will I afford it, how can I make it, grr.

During summer camp, once, I quickly blurted out that I was going to sleep with a kid. He tells his mom after camp, and that ruined me as a counselor in 2006, in New York. I was part of their other camp in California for two weeks, just after that incident, and I was not able to counsel up in Lassen Pines; I was also left with Bible homework for the next several weeks of summer. The incident occurred due to my smart mouth, since it was late, he wouldn't go to sleep, I quickly referenced Michael Jackson and made, what I thought was, a hypothetical statement, I mean, you don't want me to, I mean, do I have to, well, that's right, then go to bed, well, that scared him, but too much, I mean, he was only like age twelve, man, and so to him, the perception was, I was making a threat, unfortunately, which is illegal if I couldn't actually follow through with it, you know. I mean, it is not right to assert that people know what I mean by what I say, and so, my intentions don't matter, which reminds me of those I have called dog, ugly, hmmm, the list goes on, but I am almost scared of talking to people now a days because I don't want to offend nobody, and it keeps me from acting as silly as I were.

While in New York, I attempted towards being an RA, mainly due to my need for its scholarship, but I was told that I was not qualified, didn't have the experienced.

My life-long childhood friend, Tiffany waved bye to me, one Friday after lunch, around 2003, in high school, I knew that I was suppose to call her that night, and the following morning, she never awoke again. There were times in my life that I wanted to marry her. Of course, I run into new girls, all the time, and the younger I was, the more I was thinking about it, the younger I was, the more I thought I would fall in love, but then I started seeing how quickly girls just pair up with guys, as if they are preparing to enter the ark.

Just a year ago, I tried out for another mission trip, the Service Corps, for the summer of 2008, but I never received a response on that one.

After months of washing dishes at Kells, they replace me with a younger, quicker, more appreciative hispanic, one who doesn't require gloves.

Likewise, after months of working at an elementary school, at their after-school program, after only a few light warnings, I mean, a few hints, out of no where, they fire me (they said it was my style, so we have to part ways) since I was not getting better, I was not properly supervising, keeping my eyes on everybody, holding firm to their high standards, doing such a job with excellence, a job that I care about with a passion, one I care about more than anything in the world, which includes an obsession in listening to each individual, caring for them, but on the other end, being less proactive in the mist of the storm, confronting fighting more, I was stepping it up, writing them up more, but was I suppose to magically stop all accidents, all bumps, all fights before they even started, especially during basketball?

Through the collection of such perceived failures, there is more that must be said....

Status 20090311

2009-03-11T12:46:00.000-07:00

I am at another transition.

Better yet, I am stuck underneath a rock, distant from the sun.

Speaking of the sun, I am soaking up the sun, opened up the window, the curtain, I mean, the glass door, to the balcony, cleaning up my room, donating my electronics to Free Geek (www.freegeek.org), man, borrowed vacuum, broom, trying to prepare for possibilities, my apartment is much more cleaner.

Anybody want my Super Nintendo Game Genie, or box fan, or does Ebay want it?

Here is my dream, here is all that I can think about, right now, so to speak.

I have a pile of my 44 VHS home video tapes, dating back to 1996. My dream, my gut, prays that I can get it all uploaded onto the internet. I started converting the tapes to my computer on a poor transfer quality. Then I started uploading some of that to the internet, at Freegeek. I have over 30 GB of my tapes, on my hard drive, and that is only about ten of the 44 tapes, too.

I need a DVD Recorder.

Outside of that, I am still unemployed. I am not sure why I was fired from the school. They won't tell me much. Regardless of what I should do, or where I do that at:

I just want to read books to children.

But then again, right now, regardless of anything of my dreams of being an actor, of traveling the world, and what have you, all that is on my mind, right now, are my videos, and they are my babies, they are dying, right now, and:

I do not believe in abortion: I love them too much for that.

Kirk 0000 the boy

2009-03-06T14:25:00.000-08:00

Almost everyday, for the last six months, I have biked right past this street-side trumpet player, this African American, jack of all trades. I was road ragged into assuming that he was bitter, that he would either not care or think that I didn't care.

Several minutes ago, my intuition pulled me over, "What's your name..... Kirk as in Captain Kirk...." born in Boston, wearing glasses and a suit, Kirk bowed to my attention, I told him about myself and that I appreciated his music, at the SW entrance to the Hawthorne Bridge, "What makes you unique, as compared to the others, is that you are consistenly in that spot, playing soundtracks like Star Wars..." and I personally recommend soundtrack, especially since our human words, that are placed alongside the music, can only do so good to our soul, it often interferes with the natural rhythm, the flow (not that I am against singing or anything, but for the most part, I am sick of most music), and lyrics can often refrain the creativity of music, of what it does to the mind, but all of this is beside the point. Today, just several minutes ago, I met Kirk, he even had puppets who first displayed a goofy marriage dream that quickly warped into a fight, "Now they're normal people," as he said it.

The moral of the story, I should have known, is that I wish I would have met him sooner.

Come Help the Campaign for L4OJ

2009-03-05T17:07:00.000-08:00

You can actually help L4OJ:

1. leave me comments, not only on my notes, but especially on videos: tell me what you like, but beyond this, tell me what you don't like so that L4OJ can get better.

2. if its a video and you really like it, add it to your favorite, share it with others.

3. better yet, copy and paste the video, if you find it on YouTube then share it on MySpace, etc, or vice versa.

4. for those of you who really care, become a supporter for L4OJ. Let me explain.

Support L4OJ:

I guess I am only writing to those who believe in L4OJ, in looking for outrageous joy through living for only Jesus. Therefore, you know that I do not want your money, I just want your soul. That sounded crazy or evil, but I am not the devil and I am not a con artist. I need to make a video, just to better say what I am writing down, here.

Why am I writing this?

I am writing this because I am serious about L4OJ, I am so serious, I am so inspired, that I have realized that I cannot do this by myself and that is why I need your help. I can only pray that the right people will read this. Better yet, I can promise you that I am so serious that I will deliver with or without your help. I hope that didn't sound rude, I hope I didn't leave a bruise on your forehead when I bumped heads with you, but I am so sincere and I am only interested in inspiring people to L4OJ, to get their joy on, to reach out to the hurting. I mean, I have not talked a lot about my visions, I have drifted from sharing my dreams, but that does not disqualify them from existence.

What is the vision, why should I care?

I am not exactly sure but I do know that I am on this earth to pursue it. My lifelong dream is to pursue L4OJ, promote it, share it, but more over, live it, experience it, express it, and pass it on.

I do know that I need your help. I cannot stay on this computer all day. I feel like burning all electronics. I would rather be out playing basketball, or out with the broken hearted. But technology is a tool and that is why I use it. I guess my prayer is for secretaries, or for better technology, or for more time, or more money, or something. I know that I have a responsibility to use my gifts. That is why I need your help.

I need a secretary.

For those of you who know what I am talking about, I just want to say thanks, be patient, and come fly with me. I understand that I am still in the experimental stages of L4OJ. I understand that it takes time. But I really believe that the best is yet to come. I am sorry if I am being very general with what I am talking about. I will share more with you, later. In all due respect, L4OJ is my dream, it is all that I care about in life, it means everything to me, and if it means everything to you too, if it really does then go and do likewise!

But if you are interested, then just let me know.
Or better yet, don't tell me, but at the same time, just don't keep it to yourself.

JoeyArnold@rocketmail.com 503-367-4695
http://JoeyArnold.blogspot.com 523 SW 13th 414: Portland, OR 97205

With oatmeal in my bowl,
Is Jesus in your soul?

Myyearbook0000why.MPG

2009-03-05T14:19:00.000-08:00

This all started in 2003, with a yearbook in hand.

Salvation, Part III

2009-03-03T14:07:00.000-08:00

Salvation, Part III

Curiosity did not kill the cat.

Doubt erupts from internal disease, channeled by emotion, demanding answers.

Questions, in and of themselves, warrant illumination: however, when left unguided, questions will only encourage apathy as oppose to inspiration.

In this third edition about salvation, I can only confess that I asked too many questions, never mind my intention.

If you want to get somewhere, I must tell myself, take your time.

Nobody has the time to follow an invisible jet.

If I really want to inspire discussion, then I must not try too hard, ask too many questions, all at once...

...but beyond that, I must learn to start at the root of the topic.

That is my confession, I am sorry. Will you forgive me?

L4R.0000.breath it out

2009-03-02T20:51:00.000-08:00

L4R.0000.breath it out

Brown, forgotten, blurred to the left, Beyonce, I cannot live up to my own expectation, as a journalist, as a performer, as an employer, or as a friend.

Keep writing, my creative writing teacher echoed, everyday, even when you have nothing to say. Shoot down those hoops, follow through, maintain that attitude of perseverance, just breath it out.

In the spirit of such progression, I have decided, specifically, that this site will be my home blog site:

(http://l4r.blogspot.com).

Perfection, for a writer, is shadowed past procrastination. Many moons have howled an objection to forget about that, just produce what you can, consistently, let it ooze from the bottom of your wells, settle for less, little by little, day by day, just get it out, tell a story, sing a song, paint a picture, cry a question, smile out with your eyes, keep it short: and then, please, leave it alone.

In that last sentence, I may have said that I believe in settling for less, Lincoln Hawk, but I apologize and I will explain later because I actually do not believe in settling for less. But there is a reason why I said it. Speaking of that, I actually do believe in L4R.

L4R

Living For Revolution

Being Forever Lost

2009-01-25T20:13:00.000-08:00

I can tell you that I am growing up.

But never forget to laugh? Can you still love life in the mist of the storm? Can you still come to Jesus, at the start of each day, hug Him, embrace Him, and ask Him to direct your day? I think that I better. I am getting better at that kind of discipline, that kind of perspective. Stop getting lost? Stop being so spaced out. Live in the moment with all that you have, even when your glasses snobs your joy.

This last weekend, you were at the young-adults retreat, but you were so absent from it in your mind. You are too worried about the future. You are too caught up in self-reflection, in abusive self-improvement, in trying too hard for too long. I am glad that you took a nap, today. I am glad that you went to the retreat, this weekend. Stop being too defensive, too negative, too unrealistic, too distant from others. If you want something then you should pray about it. I know what you think about. I know that you get lonely at times. I know that you really do want to improve on how you treat people, especially girls. I appreciate your desire and I plea that you continue towards the journey of change. Do not get caught up in what you cannot do, or in what you should not do. You know that people love you. Take care of your friends.

You do not even have time to talk about the negatives in life. God did not abandon you. You are not lost. You are not in unknown territory. All things work together for good. You wash dishes and work with kids. You do not have a working computer, yet. You are not were you want to be in life, sure. But you have that ability to get there. Give it time and come back to the heart of worship.

If you must, get a third job.

However, you are not lost, I see your personality, everyday. Take care of yourself. Continue to make people laugh and feel good. Study as you can. Again, take care of yourself, please. Financially, take care of yourself.

How many times do people have to come up to you and encourage you, huh? You are suppose to be encouraging them? Go back out into laugh and live it for once.

You are not actually lost, forever! You are actually found, forever!

2008-12-09T18:04:00.001-08:00

hey

Speaking Over The Crowd

2008-10-15T00:36:00.000-07:00

Today, I had no work, so I finished cleaning up my new apartment.

I moved to the big city, Portland, Oregon, last Friday. But let me tell you more later...

I am now living in Portland, OR, USA

2008-10-11T19:02:00.000-07:00

Friday, 4:40pm, 10/10/08, I moved into my first ever apartment

I am washing dishes at Kells, an Irish Restaurant
I am also working at an after-school program

My new address is

Joey Arnold
Alder House Apartments
523 SW 13th 414
Portland, OR
97205-2314

Making My Words Concise

2008-09-29T00:19:00.000-07:00

My older sister gave me the goal of making my words count.

How many times have I confused others with my run-on sentences? How often do I appear confused, in character, to others? My sister was telling me how I often try to be funny too much. I understand what she is saying and all. I understand that my illustrations, my parables, my analogies, are not always translatable, always dependable, always comprehensible, always relevant, always true, or always loyal to the major emphasize or task at hand.

There was a teacher in my life once, while in Hawaii, Michael Collins, several months ago, who told me what I needed to hear, that I need to focus at what I need to say or do, things that really will count for eternity, and stray away from constant affairs or obsessions with being funny all the time.

As a writer, I am suppose to be more observant and simple. I find life to be hard, complicating, so deep, and so unfair. I take the words from my teachers, my family, friends, and from my sister, and I agree, I understand. Yet, somehow, still, I am still looking for a balance, for the ability to be real and simple. And when I say real, I say complex. When I say simple, I say organized. And I am sorry but I must say that my love for oatmeal is not a joke. My ability to be funny is not a joke. I do not just say things to be funny. I am funny mainly because I have character and integrity. In other words, I am funny because I am raw, original, simple, and real. Being funny does come from the root of fear, and from the root of knowing oneself. I am so sorry for being full of myself, for boasting about my talents, right now, you know, being full of myself, defending myself, being real about the facts of life, because I do care. And things are deep. And I really do not want to waste my audience.

I do not want to waste my audience

I have been taking the advise from many mentors, friends and family alike. I am finding inspiration to change from not being understood, I am taking that journey to improving communications, because organizing thought (which sparks open personal change and revolution) are my favorites in the world. I know that I am a really deep person and all but there is a problem with throwing those kind of bricks at people

bricks knocks you down

I could be Rob Bell, or the president of the USA, but that still does not give me the right to have excuses to why I confuse people, to why I can't live out my dreams, to why I can't be an international teacher, to why I even have to be accountable for my actions. I mean, I have a lot of dreams and all, but I have to take life one step at a time and work with what I have, where I am. It does not matter where I want to be in life, with my dreams, if I am not determined with being honest with where I am, and in being active in taking it a step back out towards the right direction. And that goes with my ministry to others. I cannot usher people to the promise land if I do not go back to Egypt, back where they are, to first free them, to enable them for the journey to begin with. I need to go where people, before I can take them to the next level.

Go back to where they are, before you can assist in taking them to the next level

And I find my life really hard right now, Ad all I seem to have for myself are excuses. I feel like life is too short to go after what you want. I am interested in so many hobbies. And yet beyond all that lies the root of my desire to help others, to reawaken others, to teach them to teach others, to equip others to making this world a better place, to delegating, to collaborating, to organizing this world, to making music videos, to researching, to writing, to sponsoring, and to speaking to large crowds to promote revolution. And it is so amazing that I have not scared all my friends away. I have not confused all of them yet. I need to still figure this out.

Can I relate with others, well?

2008-09-18T11:46:00.000-07:00

People with interests that match their career tend to be happier at work, more self-confident and have the "staying power" to obtain the jewels of their chosen profession. This assessment is based on people's patterns of interest across different careers. Your scores indicate how your interests in various work activities compare to the interests of other people.

Your Basic Interest Profile

Your Basic Interest Scores presented below measure your level of interest in 15 different areas. The first 12 scores measure your occupational interests. The next 3 scores are "work styles" that measure your attitudes towards certain common aspects of work. Click on the score names to see the definitions.

Each Basic Interest score is displayed as a percentile. For example, a score of 80% means you scored higher in this Basic Interest than 80 percent of people (more info).

Occupational Interests
		Percentile Profile
Scale	Percentile

Administration	63


Art	25


Clerical	25


Food Service	16


Health Service	55


Industrial Art	14


Outdoors	43


Personal Service	98


Sales	54


Science	44


Teaching / Social Service	95


Writing	27

Work Styles

		Percentile scores on the following three work styles show your interest in being assertive, persuasive, and systematic (being organized and completing things step-by-step). These three styles are required across many different occupations. Your scores on them can lead you to consider a whole range of occupations and identify many that you should avoid.

		Percentile Profile
Scale	Percentile

Assertive	72


Persuasive	91


Systematic	32

Next we will examine your highest and lowest scores more thoroughly. This will enable you to start developing some thoughts about your current or future occupation.

Food Stamps Hell

2008-09-10T14:58:00.000-07:00

I was smiling when I was born, said my mom. However, yesterday, my dad started yelling at me. Our hispanic girl friend, I mean, some girl, delivered us a cat for Deb, oh wait, two black female kittens, actually. The kittens pulled off the sheet to some small table, but dad thought I did that. I became mad and upset, inside my head. I just stood my ground like as if I was Jesus being persecuted. If you cannot imagine this, or if you do not believe that I was doing the right thing, then I do not blame you. I did not even say anything to my dad but he threw a chair at me which almost knocked me over. Plus, he came right at me, like a bull, and almost shoved me towards the sharp Steinway & Sons piano that was made in 1925. My dad yelled for an hour or more, last night. Then he was yelling at Deb, even through she was mad at him for drinking all day, for not coming home at 4pm, for not working, for not spending time with her and all. My heart raced as I went to sleep last night. I kept on thinking about how dumb I was for getting back into the ghetto, for living at home with the devil. Last night, I just felt hate for the place, for Deb, for dad, for myself, for just being in such a hole. Never mind if you do not know that WYI is a Bible retreat, but several weeks ago, at the end of camp, as I was at that WYI, I was crying mainly because I had this feeling that I would be falling back into this hole. And I actually was crying for all of WYI and nobody knew why, nobody, and I did not want to tell anybody how I was feeling. The hole is really all about me being in such an invisible hell. Nobody knows how bad it is to live their but I do sure have respect for my mom would use to live through that for 28 years in a row. Today, I finished my job resume. Tommorrow, I should be able to head off to Portland to find a job, a life, freedom from such hell. Speaking of hell, I just could not stand it last night, when my dad was yelling at me for playing the paino. And he yelled at me for not getting food stamps.