<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988</id><updated>2011-09-23T10:17:02.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Musings of a Mediocre Mind</title><subtitle type='html'>And I think to myself.......</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-2144678961570526461</id><published>2010-01-16T21:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T07:46:33.189-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Without You</title><content type='html'>You gave me love&lt;br /&gt;And took away my pain&lt;br /&gt;You made me feel normal&lt;br /&gt;Then you took my sanity&lt;br /&gt;You took my heart&lt;br /&gt;Yet it is you who are heartless&lt;br /&gt;You made me whole&lt;br /&gt;Then left me empty&lt;br /&gt;I ached to talk to you&lt;br /&gt;But your words tore me apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With you in my life&lt;br /&gt;I was everything&lt;br /&gt;But without you&lt;br /&gt;Without you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your smile was a sun&lt;br /&gt;Brightening and warming my world&lt;br /&gt;But every day ends in a dark lonely night&lt;br /&gt;Every summer, in a cold unforgiving winter&lt;br /&gt;Where you walked, flowers grew&lt;br /&gt;But even the most beautiful flower&lt;br /&gt;Left untended, will wilt and die&lt;br /&gt;Leaving only barren earth&lt;br /&gt;You brought out the best in me&lt;br /&gt;But when you left&lt;br /&gt;You left me with nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With you in my life&lt;br /&gt;I was everything&lt;br /&gt;But without you&lt;br /&gt;Without you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of you&lt;br /&gt;I saw who I was&lt;br /&gt;And knew what I could be&lt;br /&gt;Because of you&lt;br /&gt;I forgot who I am&lt;br /&gt;And forgot to care&lt;br /&gt;Because of you&lt;br /&gt;I learned who I wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;How I wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;And how I did not want to be&lt;br /&gt;Because of you&lt;br /&gt;I was alone&lt;br /&gt;Because of you&lt;br /&gt;I found myself&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;With you in my life&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was everything&lt;br /&gt;But without you&lt;br /&gt;Without you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-2144678961570526461?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2144678961570526461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2010/01/without-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2144678961570526461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2144678961570526461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2010/01/without-you.html' title='Without You'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-3547623409560037793</id><published>2010-01-16T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T20:58:40.618-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wide Awake</title><content type='html'>Wide awake&lt;br /&gt;But half asleep&lt;br /&gt;Drinking down my coffee&lt;br /&gt;At half past 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The caffeine works on my nerves&lt;br /&gt;Yet isn’t enough to keep them at bay&lt;br /&gt;The dark dreams&lt;br /&gt;And happy nightmares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cold and unsure&lt;br /&gt;But with a smile on my face&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And wait for tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun rises&lt;br /&gt;Like it always does&lt;br /&gt;Blotting out any trace&lt;br /&gt;Of yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stumble out of this room&lt;br /&gt;Out of the comforting darkness&lt;br /&gt;Break through the chains of regret&lt;br /&gt;And into the morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wide awake&lt;br /&gt;But half asleep&lt;br /&gt;Stunned by the daylight&lt;br /&gt;Hypnotized by farewell&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-3547623409560037793?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3547623409560037793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2010/01/wide-awake.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/3547623409560037793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/3547623409560037793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2010/01/wide-awake.html' title='Wide Awake'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-1905771773595350431</id><published>2009-06-08T18:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T18:49:09.494-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear of the Dark</title><content type='html'>I can't see you&lt;br /&gt;But I know you're there&lt;br /&gt;In the dark corners of my mind&lt;br /&gt;Watching&lt;br /&gt;Waiting&lt;br /&gt;Biding your time&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I hear you breathing&lt;br /&gt;Laughing&lt;br /&gt;Mocking me&lt;br /&gt;Tempting me&lt;br /&gt;Taunting me&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You have been my greatest comfort&lt;br /&gt;My constant companion in life&lt;br /&gt;Now I see that you were nothing more than a parasite&lt;br /&gt;Keeping me alive only to tear me apart&lt;br /&gt;All the while feeding on me&lt;br /&gt;My fear&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Fear of the dark&lt;br /&gt;Fear of the light&lt;br /&gt;Fear of losing you&lt;br /&gt;Of losing myself&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I can't see you&lt;br /&gt;But I know you're still there&lt;br /&gt;I can hear you breathe&lt;br /&gt;Won't you please&lt;br /&gt;Come out and play?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-1905771773595350431?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1905771773595350431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/fear-of-dark.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1905771773595350431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1905771773595350431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/fear-of-dark.html' title='Fear of the Dark'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-5142255436333009319</id><published>2009-06-08T06:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T06:14:54.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The last batch of quotant quotables.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;You must look into people as well as at them.-Lord Chesterfield &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    But only if you are a surgeon, or a mortician, or a gynecologist.  Otherwise you might go to jail, just ask Jack the Ripper or Jeffrey Dahlmer.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A man's own good breeding is the best security against other people's ill manners.-Lord C.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    It doesn't matter how many people you breed, the public will still look down on you as a mad scientist.  Unless you are breeding giants or monsters or something, then you will have really good security, which will make the good mannered folk ill and perhaps incite a pitchfork and torch parade.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Hear the meaning within the word.-Willy Shakespeare&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    Within which word?   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Kind words are the music of the world.-F. W. Faber &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     No, kind NOTES are the music of the world.  Words are just there to make us sing along, get hooked on the stupid chorus, and waste our money on the CD.  Ever tried to sing along to an instrumental piece?  doesn't work too well. &lt;br /&gt;So kind words are the "music" of the capitalist elite.  Drums are the music of the world since they're really the only instrument that most cultures have. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Arguing with a fool proves there are two.-Doris M. Smith &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Nuh-uh!    It only proves there are two if neither one wins, otherwise it proves that one of them is a bigger fool, and the other one is right.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Research shows that fourteen out of any ten individuals likes chocolate.-Sandra Boynton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    And the other four are the guys who are buying the chocolate for the ten women in hopes of getting something they will like even more!   &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;And last, but not least:The more you say, the less people remember.-Francois Fenelon&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    And yet we remember all the long winded playwrights and politicians.  As a matter of fact, the simple premise that this quote is in here with the others proves it to be false.  If these people said less (or nothing) we wouldn't have anything to remember them by.  Do YOU remember the guy who sat next to little Billy Shakespeare in class?  Didn't think so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-5142255436333009319?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5142255436333009319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/last-batch-of-quotant-quotables.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5142255436333009319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5142255436333009319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/last-batch-of-quotant-quotables.html' title='The last batch of quotant quotables.'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-1452483006071379633</id><published>2009-06-08T06:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T06:12:04.214-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Patience, persistence and perspiration make an unbeatable combination for success.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Napoleon Hill, author) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a patient with persistent perspiration is an unbeatable combination for Secret. Strong enough for a man, PH Balanced for a woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Confidence can get you where you want to go, and getting there is a daily process. It’s so much easier when you feel good about yourself, your abilities and talents.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Donald Trump, Chairman and CEO of the Trump Organization) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, a private airline and a personal helicopter can get you anywhere you want to go.  It's so much easier when you have so much money that you can't NOT feel good about yourself, your abilities, or talents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And perhaps a little George Carlin?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;As a matter of principle, I never attend the first annual anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     As a matter of principle, everything I attend is the first annual of that thing, cause it's never exactly the same as the one before, and it's always the first one I attend.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Hey, maybe this explains multiple personality disorder!  When the next person moves in, they go up on the roof to clean the gutters, and come back down with a handful of souls that have gotten stuck up there over the years.  And you can't throw them away, cause they're perfectly good frisbee souls, so you pack them in a bag and throw them in the closet.  And I guess the idea of reincarnation would be when the new kids play with the old souls and get them stuck on the roof, then the kids after them do the same thing, until a huge rain and windstorm comes and blows them all in to the neighbor's yard.  And this is the idea of Nirvana, cause as we all know, the grass is greener on the other side.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Honesty may be the best policy, but it's important to remember that apparently, by elimination, dishonesty is the second- best policy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I can see the employee handbook now...  1. Be Honest.   2. If that doesn't work, be dishonest.   3. There is no #3.   4. Honestly, there is no #3.    5. Or is there?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I'm completely in favor of the separation of church and state.  My idea is that these two institutions screw us up enough on their own, so both of them together is certain death.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     nuff said&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I'm not concerned about all hell breaking loose, but that a part of hell will break loose...it'll be much harder to detect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     hey, as long as it breaks loose and doesn't just hang there dragging along the road kicking up sparks&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen defrocked, doesn't it follow that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     and bankers debunked, and teachers detested, and magicians disillusioned&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;It's never just a game when you're winning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    or when you're losing for that matter.  have you ever noticed that it's always those who win that say "it's only a game" to try and make the losers feel better?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-1452483006071379633?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1452483006071379633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/patience-persistence-and-perspiration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1452483006071379633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1452483006071379633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/patience-persistence-and-perspiration.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-1566439926954528344</id><published>2009-06-08T06:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T06:08:08.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dave Barry quotes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Not all chemicals are bad.  Without chemicals such as hydrogen and oxygen, for example, there would be no way to make water, a vital ingredient in beer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Drink beer and you will sleep well.  sleep well and you will avoid sin.  avoid sin and you will become closer to God.  Therefore, drink beer and you will become closer to God.  (ok, so the original saying was for wine, but it works out the same)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, "My God, you're right!  I never would've thought of that!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Funny, I know a lot of people like this too.  (how many of you are now saying to yourselves "My God, you're right!  I never would have thought of that, but so do I!"   see, told ya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Scientists tell us that the fastest animal on earth, with a top speed of 120 ft/sec, is a cow that has been dropped out of a helicopter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     then again, by the time the cow is "on earth," it's not moving very fast at all.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Auto racing is boring except when a car is going at   least 172 miles per hour upside down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     and that is just about the only reason to watch NASCAR.  well, that and the oh so satisfying feel of turning it off.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Fishing is boring, unless you catch an actual fish, and then it is disgusting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I agree.  Then again, if you actually catch a fish, it's not fishing anymore, it's catching. &lt;br /&gt;    You know when fishing is not boring?  when a fish is going at least 172 miles per hour upside down.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;It is a scientific fact that your body will not absorb cholesterol if you take it from another person's plate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     hence the lazy susan, and the concept of Dim Sum.  the food is always taken from a communal plate so you never absorb the fat and cholesterol&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;And I will leave you with a bit of wisdom from Dean Martin-"You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    you're not drunk, you're either so wasted you've passed out, or you are dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-1566439926954528344?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1566439926954528344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/dave-barry-quotes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1566439926954528344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1566439926954528344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/06/dave-barry-quotes.html' title='Dave Barry quotes'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-7881565124439498308</id><published>2009-03-15T20:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T20:09:48.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting</title><content type='html'>I stand in a daze&lt;br /&gt;staring out at the sea&lt;br /&gt;watching the last of the sun's reassuring light&lt;br /&gt;slip below the horizon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old scars thought long ago healed&lt;br /&gt;have been torn open once again&lt;br /&gt;the blood staining the sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am deafened by Neptune’s constant roar&lt;br /&gt;echoing in my head&lt;br /&gt;speaking words so foreign&lt;br /&gt;yet so familiar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strength&lt;br /&gt;Power&lt;br /&gt;Serenity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loss&lt;br /&gt;Betrayal&lt;br /&gt;Chaos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freedom&lt;br /&gt;Regret&lt;br /&gt;Life&lt;br /&gt;Death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The waves come and go&lt;br /&gt;soaking my feet&lt;br /&gt;washing away the very same debris&lt;br /&gt;that they themselves brought only a moment earlier&lt;br /&gt;but they cannot wash away the stains in the sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand, still dazed&lt;br /&gt;staring out at the sea&lt;br /&gt;feeling the reassuring warmth of the sun&lt;br /&gt;creep above the horizon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stains are still here&lt;br /&gt;but so am I&lt;br /&gt;still standing&lt;br /&gt;still waiting&lt;br /&gt;still bleeding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how much longer I can wait&lt;br /&gt;for you to change your mind&lt;br /&gt;when I can’t even make up mine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-7881565124439498308?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7881565124439498308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7881565124439498308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7881565124439498308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting.html' title='Waiting'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-6667608269709885744</id><published>2009-03-12T14:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T14:39:52.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I quote.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.”&lt;br /&gt;(Henry David Thoreau, author)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you have recurring dreams about coming to work naked.  Then try not to live the life you have imagined.  But if you are going to go in the direction of your dreams, by all means, do it confidently!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    And a slut is one who doesn't care who you are and loves just the same as everyone else &lt;br /&gt;    A true friend is someone who knows you and loves you more because of it&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A man is as good as he has to be, and a  woman as bad as she dares. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Is this quote about driving?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A man is not paid for having a head and hands, but for using them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I've done this one already   :)  but I think I might be able to come up with a couple more....&lt;br /&gt;    Unless you're a porn star, in which case you're paid for using... oh wait, that's the same....&lt;br /&gt;    A man playing soccer IS paid for having a head and hands, but penalized for using them, the hands anyways&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    an ANAL retentive memory is just annoying&lt;br /&gt;    A retentive memory may be a good thing, but...  um, what was I talking about?  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy to be called an idea at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     an idea that is not dangerous is called a GOOD idea.  A dangerous idea is called stupid.  Unless it succeeds, in which case it's called a stroke of genius. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Die, verb: to stop sinning suddenly.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    Die, verb: to stop spinning suddenly (if you are falling anyways)&lt;br /&gt;    Die verb:  German for "the verb" &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    on the contrary, stupidity is very handicapped!  In the short bus, wear a helmet everywhere kind of way that is.&lt;br /&gt;    This kind of adds a new spin to the whole "shoot for the stars" thing doesn't it?  Hey, you're a raging moron, but don't give up, you can always get stupider! &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Especially if you are a mute.   Or if you're silent because you speak a foreign language and don't understand "his" words.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;If you can't answer a man's arguments, all is not lost; you can still call him vile names. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    And be a politician.  Or a 2 term President.  Wait, this also explains the previous quote.... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires great strength to decide on what to do.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    actually, it requires NO strength to decide what to do.  I can decide not to lift a car, and that takes no strength.  But to actually lift a car takes a LOT of strength!! &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Life is just one damned thing after another. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    whereas a beaver's life is damming one thing after another&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The greatest mistake you can make in life is continually fearing that you'll make one.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     kind of a sick self-fulfilling prophesy there isn't it? &lt;br /&gt;    actually though, the greatest mistake you can make in life is dying.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The man who has no problems is out of the game. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     only if the game is math, in which case you're only out cause you won.  at math.  at life you're kind of a loser.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;We are not punished for our sins, but by them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     no, we are motivated and tempted (and often entertained) by our sins (and those of others).  we are punished by the judicial system which decided to base many of it's laws on what is and is not a sin in the bible, thus punishing us FOR our sins.  Unless of course the sin is suicide or adultery and the jealous husband is armed.  Then we are punished both for and by our sins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-6667608269709885744?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/6667608269709885744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-i-quote.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/6667608269709885744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/6667608269709885744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-i-quote.html' title='And I quote.....'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-6264855080944032608</id><published>2009-03-06T18:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T22:19:46.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a couple more Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Success seems to be connected with action. Successful people keep moving. They make mistakes, but they don’t quit.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Conrad Hilton, founder of the Hilton Hotel chain)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;so no matter how many times you mess up, you are successful as long as you keep messing up and don't give up?  So Paris Hilton really IS a successful actress?   I think not!   Mr Hilton must've come up with this one to keep Paris and Nikki from whining too much.  Like the girls, it didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success seems to be connected with action...figures.  Successful people have action figures of themselves with parts that keep moving.  The more variations of an action figure you have, the more successful you are.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    actually, the plane you are in and your fear of heights will determine your altitude&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Success is dependent upon the glands-sweat glands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    so... really fat people are the most successful cause they sweat the most?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;When you are tough on yourself, life is going to be infinitely easier on you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    but you won't notice how easy it is because you are so hard on yourself&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You do not pay the price of success, you enjoy the price of success&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    no, you PAY the price of success, that's why it's called the PRICE.  What you enjoy, is driving it off the lot, and the ensuing buyer's remorse.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Confidence is going after Moby Dick in a rowboat and taking the tartar sauce with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Stupid is going after Moby Dick at all, tarter sauce or no tarter sauce.  Whaling is illegal in US waters.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Positive thinking will let you do everything better than negative thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    unless the negative thinking inspires you to try to disprove it, in which case negative thinking will let you do it better than positive thinking.  Positive thinking often makes you complacent.  If you are happy with who you are, and how things are, what motivation is there to change anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;People often say motivation doesn't last.  Well, neither does bathing-that's why we recommend it daily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The problem comes when the motivation to bathe doesn't last. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Remember that failure is an event, not a person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    But who is it that causes and is the victim of that event?   People.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-6264855080944032608?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/6264855080944032608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/couple-more-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/6264855080944032608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/6264855080944032608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/couple-more-thoughts.html' title='a couple more Thoughts'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-4652371677793992149</id><published>2009-03-06T17:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T18:15:07.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quotant Quotables</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    approval, La-Z Boy, whatever&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining, but wants it back the minute it begins to rain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    and charges you interest for the time you had it but didn't need it.   and refuses to give you back the fees you racked up for letting it sit dormant all summer.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Always acknowledge a fault.  This will throw those in authority off their guard and give you an opportunity to commit more.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     to commit more what?  crimes?  is this saying that by pointing out a victims weaknesses you are giving yourself free reign to victimize them even more as long as the cops are not expecting it?  but, if you acknowledge the fault, wouldn't that put the authority figures more on edge and clue them in to what you are up to?  So how are they caught off guard?  That's why they are in authority, cause they know how to point out all of your faults (and anyone else's).  See, I acknowledged the fault of this quote.  You are caught off guard, so I can now move on to commit more crimes against your mental being!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always do right.  This will gratify some people and astonish the rest.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     Unless you are a NASCAR driver, then always do left.  This will gratify some people and bore the rest.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Be careful about reading health books.  You may die of a misprint. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    be even more careful about getting hit in the head with medical books.  You may die of massive head trauma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;We are not human beings on a spiritual journey, we are spiritual beings on a human journey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     ok, so correct me if I'm wrong, but does this mean we're all aliens trying to be human?  Were the neanderthals the last "real" humans, and we were the space men who came down and wiped them all out and are now just trying to fit in the way we thing they would have evolved?  And if they never evolved past that stage, just who are we trying to fool?    You know what's scary about this thought?  This means that terrible Cavemen show was really a reality show or a documentary&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    and having what everyone else wants&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A man is not old until regrets start taking the place of dreams.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     a man is old when wet adult diapers start taking the place of dreams.  and when he stops regretting it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sex without love is merely healthy exercise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     really really fun exercise!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The road to success is lined with many tempting parking spaces.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     shouldn't it be the road to ruin (or sin) that is lined with temptations?  I would think the road to success would be a nicely kept 4 lane highway, maybe with a heavy security toll booth to keep out the riff-raff.   afterall, the people at the end of the road are successful right?  and with that success, I'm thinking they'd have some pretty nice cars.  People like that would not bother with parking spaces, they'd just cruise right on through&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    ok, I think I already addressed this in another quote, but I will say it again.  If you don't worry about the future or anticipate troubles, what's the point of being healthy, and how will you know if you achieve it.  And if you don't worry about the future, you are likely not to have one.      &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from the mind of the great Robin Williams...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ah, yes, divorce...from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man's genitals through his wallet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    also from the ancient Italian word vorce meaning short and curlies, as in "she's got ya by di vorce"&lt;br /&gt;    and the Olde Tyme English "devyde your selfe"   as in self castration to keep her from taking half of your manhood.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my wine like I like my women-ready to pass out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    wine ready to pass out?  me so confuse-ed     &lt;br /&gt;    I like my wine like I like my women too, smooth, australian, and with a yellow tail (oh wait...) &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Do you think God gets stoned? I think so...look at the platypus.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    Platypus proves that even God (being a man) ends up with parts left over when he tries to build something.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I'm sorry, if you were right, I'd agree with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Yup, cause everyone is entitled to their own opinions, even if they are all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;    If you were right, I'd agree with you.  since you're not, I'll just point and laugh.  and maybe throw rocks.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never pick a fight with an ugly person, they've got nothing to lose.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    Not only do they have nothing to lose, there's no way to tell if you won!  "yeah, but you should see the other guy" does not apply&lt;br /&gt;    Also, never hit a man with glasses.  Hit him with something bigger and heavier. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality is a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     Also a crutch for people who can't cope with drugs?  cartoons (though I'm told they are better without the other crutches)&lt;br /&gt;    Then you get those people who CAN cope with drugs, and decide it would be fun to swing their crutches around like a sword and see how many people they can beat over the head (thank you reality tv)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had cloning in the South for years.  It's called cousins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Ah, this also explains why the first animal to be cloned was a sheep.  In case the cousins were all busy. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're only given a little spark of madness.  You mustn't lose it.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;    I was given a little sparkler of madness.  I like to wave it around and see what I can create with the afterglow.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;     a little spark?  Robin Williams had the whole freakin bonfire!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-4652371677793992149?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4652371677793992149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/quotant-quotables.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/4652371677793992149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/4652371677793992149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/03/quotant-quotables.html' title='Quotant Quotables'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-3159747955725646049</id><published>2009-02-24T20:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T20:33:04.345-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It all started with a knock on my door.  Before I even had the chance to get out of my chair, the door opened and there she was.  Even through the low light and thick smoke, I could see that this dame was a pure knockout. She had the kind of legs that looked like they had walked all over every man she met and came out on top every time.  Her face could put any Hollywood starlet to shame, but it was her eyes that stopped me dead in my tracks.  They made a man want to run home crying to his mommy.  Black as coal and looking right through me, there were secrets hidden behind those eyes that I prayed to God I would never know.  But something in my gut (or was it in the there-then-gone grin?) told me I that not even God could help me now. &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;My name is Harvey Kipsitch and I was once one of the top Private Eyes in the city.  Now I am huddled under a freeway overpass with the last few survivors, hoping that this will find find it's way out of here.  Hoping that it reaches you before she does.  Hoping that what I have to tell you will save your soul.   Praying that it's not too late.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt; Like I said, it all started with a knock...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-3159747955725646049?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3159747955725646049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-all-started-with-knock-on-my-door.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/3159747955725646049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/3159747955725646049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-all-started-with-knock-on-my-door.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-260918521976165768</id><published>2009-02-24T20:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T20:31:43.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snapshots Thought of the Day 2-24</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Theodore Roosevelt, 26th U.S. President)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Unless you can't, cause you have nothing, and don't know where you are.  In which case, do what you can, with what you steal from those who have it, regardless of where they are. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I wonder if this quote came on one of Teddy's hunting trips...  "Teddy, we got any more toilet paper?  I'm all out!"&lt;br /&gt;"Son, do what you can, with what you have, where you are."&lt;br /&gt;"But Teddy, there are snakes!"&lt;br /&gt;"Well then, speak softly and carry a big stick."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Isn't it reassuring to know that so many of history's good quotes come from bodily functions??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-260918521976165768?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/260918521976165768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/snapshots-thought-of-day-2-24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/260918521976165768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/260918521976165768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/snapshots-thought-of-day-2-24.html' title='Snapshots Thought of the Day 2-24'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-8414040588157553277</id><published>2009-02-23T17:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T17:44:22.732-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>What is at the end&lt;br /&gt;Of a rainbow in the night&lt;br /&gt;When we cast aside the security blanket&lt;br /&gt;Of our childhood innocence&lt;br /&gt;And go in search of that which we cannot see&lt;br /&gt;And know may not even be there&lt;br /&gt;When we reach it&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What is at the end&lt;br /&gt;Of a rainbow in the night&lt;br /&gt;When all that we have are&lt;br /&gt;Hopes and Dreams&lt;br /&gt;To keep us safe and warm&lt;br /&gt;Against the cold realities of the world&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What is at the end&lt;br /&gt;Of a rainbow in the night&lt;br /&gt;When we lose sight of what we need&lt;br /&gt;And focus only on what we want&lt;br /&gt;Or think we want&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What is at the end&lt;br /&gt;Of a rainbow in the night&lt;br /&gt;When we finally find out&lt;br /&gt;We don't want it after all&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;What is at the end&lt;br /&gt;Of a rainbow in the night?&lt;br /&gt;The dawn of a new day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-8414040588157553277?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/8414040588157553277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/untitled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/8414040588157553277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/8414040588157553277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-1618706275534862036</id><published>2009-02-23T17:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T17:42:35.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Carnival</title><content type='html'>This is another one where I've had an idea floating around in need of a home.  This time it was a line from an old song, and an image that I stumbled across when thinking about the rainbow piece last week (that line, the rainbow in the night, was originally going to be part of this one too, but it just didn't find it's way into it).&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bonus points to any of who who can identify which line is from the song and which song it's from. &lt;br /&gt;As always, I welcome your comments/criticisms, as it is most definitely a work in progress...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Carnival&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The dark shroud falls&lt;br /&gt;Untethered upon the world&lt;br /&gt;Suffocating the day's last light&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As the music winds down&lt;br /&gt;And the last ride comes to a stop&lt;br /&gt;One by one the lights stop blinking&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The gleeful smiles of the clowns&lt;br /&gt;Changed to mischievous grins&lt;br /&gt;Brimming with evil&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;The bright neon of the midway&lt;br /&gt;Replaced by a darkness so deep&lt;br /&gt;The shadows run from themselves&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The uneasiness once held at bay by the&lt;br /&gt;Laughter of innocent children&lt;br /&gt;Spills into the field&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;For this is when the real freaks come out&lt;br /&gt;To revel in the non-existent glow of the moon&lt;br /&gt;To extinguish the stars with their icy breath&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Singing, dancing, haunting&lt;br /&gt;Through their dark carnival&lt;br /&gt;The children of the night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-1618706275534862036?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1618706275534862036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/carnival.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1618706275534862036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/1618706275534862036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/carnival.html' title='The Carnival'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-558750317907009481</id><published>2009-02-20T21:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:25:37.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No reason, I just love this picture.  It may be the best one I've ever taken.  Certainly the most indicitive of the work I'd like to do.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/SZ9l_NhBQdI/AAAAAAAAACU/ycddt0zgDYQ/s1600-h/IMG_0823.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/SZ9l_NhBQdI/AAAAAAAAACU/ycddt0zgDYQ/s400/IMG_0823.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305071022700052946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-558750317907009481?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/558750317907009481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-reason-i-just-love-this-picture-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/558750317907009481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/558750317907009481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-reason-i-just-love-this-picture-it.html' title='No reason, I just love this picture.  It may be the best one I&apos;ve ever taken.  Certainly the most indicitive of the work I&apos;d like to do.'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/SZ9l_NhBQdI/AAAAAAAAACU/ycddt0zgDYQ/s72-c/IMG_0823.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-4954783102461329895</id><published>2009-02-20T21:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:15:04.988-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire</title><content type='html'>This one was written as part of a project for my Sociology of Forest Fires class.  It was a spur of the moment, kind of last minute (around 1 am the night before it was due) addition, but I like the way it turned out, so here it is.  The project was in the form of a power-point presentation, and this piece was written over top of a photograph of mine.  &lt;br /&gt;It's a crappy scan of the photo, and I know there's a better one somewhere, but I don't feel like looking for it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/SZ9jSDSJNNI/AAAAAAAAACM/Rzn7ypb0Eqg/s1600-h/fire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/SZ9jSDSJNNI/AAAAAAAAACM/Rzn7ypb0Eqg/s320/fire.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305068047835935954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fire&lt;br /&gt;Bringer of life&lt;br /&gt;You unite us&lt;br /&gt;Give us culture&lt;br /&gt;Make us human&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We worship you&lt;br /&gt;Fear you&lt;br /&gt;Battle you&lt;br /&gt;Lose ourselves in you&lt;br /&gt;You keep us human&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we transgress&lt;br /&gt;You burn us&lt;br /&gt;Scar us&lt;br /&gt;Cleanse our souls&lt;br /&gt;You humble us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we are cold&lt;br /&gt;You warm us&lt;br /&gt;Inspire us&lt;br /&gt;Light our faces&lt;br /&gt;Our hearts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You belong to us&lt;br /&gt;And we to you&lt;br /&gt;We build you&lt;br /&gt;Feed you&lt;br /&gt;Preserve you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We give you fuel&lt;br /&gt;You fuel us&lt;br /&gt;Our minds&lt;br /&gt;Our souls&lt;br /&gt;You preserve us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fear you&lt;br /&gt;Battle you&lt;br /&gt;Lose ourselves to you&lt;br /&gt;Give ourselves to you&lt;br /&gt;You consume us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fire&lt;br /&gt;Bringer of life&lt;br /&gt;Taker of life&lt;br /&gt;In your eternal flame&lt;br /&gt;We are born&lt;br /&gt;Reborn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-4954783102461329895?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4954783102461329895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/4954783102461329895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/4954783102461329895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/fire.html' title='Fire'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/SZ9jSDSJNNI/AAAAAAAAACM/Rzn7ypb0Eqg/s72-c/fire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-8336633149668141186</id><published>2009-02-20T21:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:06:26.994-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walls</title><content type='html'>Brick by brick I saw&lt;br /&gt;The walls going up&lt;br /&gt;I did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly the light faded away&lt;br /&gt;I did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Sights, sounds, emotions&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Like an old shell which has been hurt &lt;br /&gt;Once too often&lt;br /&gt;I cast away my former self&lt;br /&gt;Safe behind my walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit alone in my mind&lt;br /&gt;The walls I once built to protect me&lt;br /&gt;Now hold me in.&lt;br /&gt;Trap me.&lt;br /&gt;I am consumed by this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet still I yearn for something&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;A warm smile&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;And ear to listen&lt;br /&gt;Faith?&lt;br /&gt;A sweet embrace&lt;br /&gt;Love?&lt;br /&gt;Eyes that say nothing and everything all at once&lt;br /&gt;Truth.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes&lt;br /&gt;Understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading this again today, I can't help but think it shares a certain something with the Rainbow Redux one.   Not sure what it is, but it's there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-8336633149668141186?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/8336633149668141186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/walls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/8336633149668141186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/8336633149668141186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/walls.html' title='Walls'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-7878708432698521907</id><published>2009-02-20T20:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:59:03.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunset - October 24, 1999</title><content type='html'>Slowly I make my way through the void&lt;br /&gt;I am alone; my thoughts and fears&lt;br /&gt;My only companions.&lt;br /&gt;The doors of perception have all shut now&lt;br /&gt;And the candles are melting away.&lt;br /&gt;Feet are so tired&lt;br /&gt;How long must I walk?&lt;br /&gt;I have lost all direction&lt;br /&gt;No longer sure which way is up.&lt;br /&gt;This world is quiet, deathly still.&lt;br /&gt;I try to speak&lt;br /&gt;But am silenced by the night.&lt;br /&gt;I scream&lt;br /&gt;But there is no sound&lt;br /&gt;Only blackness&lt;br /&gt;Taking me in&lt;br /&gt;Swallowing me whole.&lt;br /&gt;My God!  Can’t anybody hear me?&lt;br /&gt;I long for the day&lt;br /&gt;When I can once again&lt;br /&gt;Behold the simple beauty &lt;br /&gt;Of the setting sun.&lt;br /&gt;Who will think I’m beautiful when I’m gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, there is a story behind this one, sort of.  No, I will not get into it here.  This was written for my Grandfather after he died.  For only then did I realize how much he really meant to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-7878708432698521907?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7878708432698521907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunset-october-24-1999.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7878708432698521907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7878708432698521907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunset-october-24-1999.html' title='Sunset - October 24, 1999'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-2265221000683175602</id><published>2009-02-20T20:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:02:00.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Icarus</title><content type='html'>After 15 years, I am still not sure what to make of this one,  there are parts of it I really like (the first one and last 2 stanzas), but there are parts that I almost think ruin it (the whole middle)   I kind of like the last bit by itself, as a standalone piece...    Here it is in it's entirety, because if the "intended" audience reads this blog, I feel I owe it to her/them to say it all.  Perhaps some day I will break it apart and make it better.  But not now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Flight of Icarus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how time flies&lt;br /&gt;Almost seems to waste away&lt;br /&gt;When you’re “in love.”&lt;br /&gt;It passes by&lt;br /&gt;Like a bird in flight&lt;br /&gt;But you don’t notice it&lt;br /&gt;You’re too “involved.”&lt;br /&gt;Everything she says&lt;br /&gt; is true&lt;br /&gt;Everything she does&lt;br /&gt; is right&lt;br /&gt;So why are you always wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say that love is blind&lt;br /&gt;Yet it takes so much sight&lt;br /&gt;So much thought.&lt;br /&gt;I used to think that &lt;br /&gt;Love was a sphere&lt;br /&gt;Ever turning&lt;br /&gt;Never ceasing to exist.&lt;br /&gt;But now it feels more like&lt;br /&gt;A triangle&lt;br /&gt;Impossible to balance&lt;br /&gt;And never seeming to roll&lt;br /&gt;Only bounce and topple&lt;br /&gt;In a depressing display&lt;br /&gt;Of hopelessness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people say they’re &lt;br /&gt;“In love.”&lt;br /&gt;But what is love?&lt;br /&gt;Once it was Poetry&lt;br /&gt;Flowers and Chivalry&lt;br /&gt;It meant courting a girl&lt;br /&gt;And respecting her…&lt;br /&gt;For me it still is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In today’s society&lt;br /&gt;Love means having someone…&lt;br /&gt;To talk with on the phone&lt;br /&gt;For three hours&lt;br /&gt;Complain to your friends about&lt;br /&gt;Someone to fuck on the weekends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bullshit!&lt;br /&gt;When will you wake up?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it is I &lt;br /&gt;Who should wake up.&lt;br /&gt;My path to a girl’s  heart&lt;br /&gt;Was through her open arms&lt;br /&gt;No wonder I failed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should stop&lt;br /&gt;Take the road not taken &lt;br /&gt;By me&lt;br /&gt;The one upon which today’s youth &lt;br /&gt;Speed by…&lt;br /&gt;Those who believe that &lt;br /&gt;The way to a girl’s heart &lt;br /&gt;Is through her bruises&lt;br /&gt;Emotional&lt;br /&gt;Physical&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that’s how I should do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want &lt;br /&gt;To know her&lt;br /&gt;Not fuck her&lt;br /&gt;Love her&lt;br /&gt;Not lose her&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to spend time with her&lt;br /&gt;Not waste time on her&lt;br /&gt;But I did&lt;br /&gt;I wasted three years&lt;br /&gt;Looking for love&lt;br /&gt;A love that I couldn’t have&lt;br /&gt;Big Surprise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny how time flies&lt;br /&gt;Almost seems to waste away&lt;br /&gt;When you’re “in love.”&lt;br /&gt;It passes by&lt;br /&gt;Like a bird in flight&lt;br /&gt;But you don’t notice it&lt;br /&gt;Until it’s gone&lt;br /&gt;What a fucking waste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-2265221000683175602?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2265221000683175602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/icarus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2265221000683175602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2265221000683175602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/icarus.html' title='Icarus'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-2952075335417346232</id><published>2009-02-20T20:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:01:31.715-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Awakening of a Dream &amp; The Mortal Void</title><content type='html'>These two kind of go together, in that they were written very much about the same situation.  If I had to pick a favorite among everything I have ever written, it would be these two.  They pretty much say everything I needed to say at the time (and sometimes still do).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awakening of a Dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It grows slowly&lt;br /&gt;Strikes suddenly and&lt;br /&gt;Without warning&lt;br /&gt;Following it is Pain&lt;br /&gt;Betrayal&lt;br /&gt;Denial&lt;br /&gt;Frustration&lt;br /&gt;Hopelessness…&lt;br /&gt; Genuine&lt;br /&gt;Preceding it is Comfort&lt;br /&gt;Trust&lt;br /&gt;Faith&lt;br /&gt;Confidence&lt;br /&gt;Hope…&lt;br /&gt; Delusions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It enters your body&lt;br /&gt;You welcome it&lt;br /&gt;It sucks your life blood&lt;br /&gt;Penetrating your mind&lt;br /&gt;It controls you&lt;br /&gt;Gives you the power to do anything&lt;br /&gt;All the while&lt;br /&gt;Tearing you apart&lt;br /&gt;Eating you from the inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You notice it&lt;br /&gt;At last&lt;br /&gt;Too late&lt;br /&gt;You’re already dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A slow painful death&lt;br /&gt;Fed by love&lt;br /&gt;Starved by confidence&lt;br /&gt;Love…&lt;br /&gt; You cannot have it&lt;br /&gt;Confidence…&lt;br /&gt; You don’t need it anyway&lt;br /&gt;But you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still in sight&lt;br /&gt;You grasp for it&lt;br /&gt;Futile&lt;br /&gt;So close&lt;br /&gt;Yet so far&lt;br /&gt;It eludes you&lt;br /&gt;Maybe for the better&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You turn your back on it&lt;br /&gt;Good &lt;br /&gt;Ignore it&lt;br /&gt;Forget it&lt;br /&gt;You can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It follows you&lt;br /&gt;Envelopes your mind&lt;br /&gt;Body&lt;br /&gt;Soul&lt;br /&gt;It feels warm&lt;br /&gt;But it burns you&lt;br /&gt;Vaporizes your blood&lt;br /&gt;Hopes Dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The realization hits you&lt;br /&gt;Hard&lt;br /&gt;Unexpected&lt;br /&gt;You’ve always wanted it&lt;br /&gt;You can never have it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You notice it&lt;br /&gt;At last&lt;br /&gt;Too late&lt;br /&gt;You’re already dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Mortal Void&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which we cannot have&lt;br /&gt;Tempts us&lt;br /&gt;Taunts us&lt;br /&gt;Makes us want it&lt;br /&gt;We spend our lives&lt;br /&gt;Trying for it&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing why&lt;br /&gt;Or even if we actually want it&lt;br /&gt;But we do&lt;br /&gt;We need it&lt;br /&gt;It needs us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again it teases us&lt;br /&gt;Comes ever closer&lt;br /&gt;In a final effort&lt;br /&gt;We grab for it&lt;br /&gt;Success&lt;br /&gt;It is ours&lt;br /&gt;We have it&lt;br /&gt;Want it&lt;br /&gt;Need it&lt;br /&gt;Or do we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It becomes part of us&lt;br /&gt;We let it&lt;br /&gt;It comforts us&lt;br /&gt;We savor it&lt;br /&gt;Give ourselves to it&lt;br /&gt;It dominates us&lt;br /&gt;We submit our minds&lt;br /&gt;Hearts&lt;br /&gt;Souls&lt;br /&gt;That’s what it wants&lt;br /&gt;Complete submission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It destroys us&lt;br /&gt;We don’t fight it&lt;br /&gt;We can’t&lt;br /&gt;It leaves us with nothing&lt;br /&gt;No feelings&lt;br /&gt;No confidence&lt;br /&gt;No happiness&lt;br /&gt;A total void&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a prison&lt;br /&gt;And death shall be our release&lt;br /&gt;We wish for it&lt;br /&gt;It eludes us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which we cannot have&lt;br /&gt;Tempts us&lt;br /&gt;Taunts us&lt;br /&gt;We want it&lt;br /&gt;Need it&lt;br /&gt;But why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-2952075335417346232?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2952075335417346232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/awakening-of-dream-mortal-void.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2952075335417346232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2952075335417346232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/awakening-of-dream-mortal-void.html' title='Awakening of a Dream &amp; The Mortal Void'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-7600412978658884014</id><published>2009-02-20T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:42:20.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2000 Flushes</title><content type='html'>Pain&lt;br /&gt;Mental&lt;br /&gt;Physical&lt;br /&gt;Emotional&lt;br /&gt;It binds you&lt;br /&gt;Holds you down&lt;br /&gt;Digs ever deeper&lt;br /&gt;Into your soul&lt;br /&gt;You fight it&lt;br /&gt;Push it away&lt;br /&gt;Flush it down the &lt;br /&gt;Toilet of life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The toilet of life&lt;br /&gt;Flush out the crap&lt;br /&gt;Let love wash it away&lt;br /&gt;But even love can leave &lt;br /&gt;Residue&lt;br /&gt;You must wash it away&lt;br /&gt;But how?&lt;br /&gt;Tidy-Bowl&lt;br /&gt;The blue sea of &lt;br /&gt;Death&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-7600412978658884014?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7600412978658884014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/2000-flushes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7600412978658884014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7600412978658884014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/2000-flushes.html' title='2000 Flushes'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-630553877824837156</id><published>2009-02-20T20:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T06:29:57.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flashes from the past</title><content type='html'>Part of the process I have used to try and get back into the swing of this writing thing was to go back and reread some of the things I wrote once upon a time.  Some of it I like, some of it I don't.  I have been sharing bits and pieces of them with a few friends lately, and I think I am finally ready to throw them up here.  I wrote them for an audience of one... me.  Yes, they were written "for" a specific person (or 2 people in some cases), but not with the intention that they would read them.  As a matter of fact, I'm not sure they have ever read any of these poems before now (assuming they ARE reading them now - yes, I still kind of talk to them - no I won't tell you who they are.)  I present them here in no specific order, except to say that most of them were written during the same 2-3 week span.  They have been described to me as a visceral gut punch.  I like that.  It perfectly gets to what I was feeling when I wrote them, and how I feel now every time I read them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharing these is the closest I will come to sticking my tongue to a cold flagpole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-630553877824837156?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/630553877824837156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/flashes-from-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/630553877824837156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/630553877824837156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/flashes-from-past.html' title='Flashes from the past'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-4441907519921471516</id><published>2009-02-20T20:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:26:54.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've been thinking a lot lately about how many blog posts seem to start with the phrase, "I've been thinking a lot lately about..."    That being said, I've been thinking a lot lately about friends and friendship in general.  Not in a negative way, not necessarily in a positive way either.  More like, in a round-about, looping, perhaps even existential way.  I suppose if I were to narrow it down to one main question that I've been thinking about, it'd be "what is a friend?"  If I don't narrow it down, it'd be, what is a friend, what is an acquaintance?  Where is the line in the sand that separates the two, and how does one cross that line without kicking sand in everyone's face?  It's a lot of questions, I know, being one who's done my fair share of kicking, and had more than my fair share of sand kicked in my face, I can't help but ask them.  And this is by no means a one way street!  It seems just as easy to go from friend to acquaintance (or worse, to become no longer a part of someone's life - the phrase "dead to me" ring a bell?) as it is to go from casual acquaintance to close friend.  So how does it happen?  Is there one thing that a person can do or learn about you that qualifies them as a friend?  At what point does that transition happen? &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I said before that I've had a good deal of sand kicked in my face as I was thrust over that line one way or the other.  Anyone who's ever been to the beach knows how much that stings.  I've been a friend, I've been an acquaintance, I've been cut from lives, sometimes I've crossed back over the line, sometimes I haven't.  And each time, I can't help but wonder what it was that caused that transition.  Over the years, I have had a good number of friends, and a number of good friends.  I am not one to make friends easily, but when I do, I tend to open up pretty quickly and fully.  I wear my heart on my sleeve, and lately, it's been a short sleeve shirt. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Funny thing about friends.  They come and go.  Sometimes, they come back.  And I'm finding that often people who I once considered friends (and good ones at that) seem to now be casual accquaintances.  And more surprisingly, people who I would have considered acquaintances, or even friends with whom there was not a big connection (at the time) are turning into people who I value deeply now that I've had a chance to be re-introduced to them as adults.  We've all been asked many times "if you could go back to X (usually high school) and do it over again, would you?"  Most of the people I've talked to would say no.  Or more specifically, a resounding and emphatic, "HELL NO!"  I'm in the other boat though.  I would go back.  If only to try to strengthen some of the friendships I had back then, and to help the people who I now realize could have used an extra shoulder to cry on, or just an understanding ear.  For me, once a friend always a friend.  Well, there are a few cases where that is not true, but for the most part...   I will always be a friend to them if they need me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK!  ENOUGH!   I have been working on and off on this one for a couple of days now, and I'm not happy with it.  I am still going to put it up, because it DOES express where some of my thoughts have been.  On the other hand, I am no longer in the groove of that train of thought.  If people want me to be a part of their lives, or want to be a part of mine, I will greet them with open arms.  If they don't?  That's their choice to make.  But I will always be here for any of them that change their minds.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post stinks, but here it is.  I could refine my thoughts more and undoubtedly make them much more eloquent, but frankly, I am done thinking about this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-4441907519921471516?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/4441907519921471516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-been-thinking-lot-lately-about-how.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/4441907519921471516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/4441907519921471516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-been-thinking-lot-lately-about-how.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-697140927099831054</id><published>2009-02-20T20:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T20:17:06.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow Redux</title><content type='html'>ok, so for the past week or so, I've had a line bouncing around in my head.  I'm not sure where it came from, and I don't know what it means, but I wanted to do something with it.  More accurately, IT wanted me to do something with it.  The other day I finally sat down and let it do it's thing.  I liked the first version, but then I went back (on a friend's advice) and took another look at it.  I'm not sure yet, but I think I like this second version better.  By the way, that line?  The one that insisted I write it down and let it go?  It is the last line here.  I hope at some point to use it again, maybe as an opening line to another piece, just to see what would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Untitled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I force myself to blink&lt;br /&gt;away the tears&lt;br /&gt;to shut out the world&lt;br /&gt;to sleep&lt;br /&gt;to dream&lt;br /&gt;to stop dreaming&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I see &lt;br /&gt;nothing but darkness&lt;br /&gt;where am I?&lt;br /&gt;who am I?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I rub my eyes&lt;br /&gt;to clear my vision&lt;br /&gt;to make sure I am awake&lt;br /&gt;alive&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;a light&lt;br /&gt;a glimmer of hope&lt;br /&gt;warm, comforting&lt;br /&gt;yet somehow disorienting&lt;br /&gt;out of place&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes again&lt;br /&gt;praying that when I open them&lt;br /&gt;I will see nothing&lt;br /&gt;scared to see nothing&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Still there&lt;br /&gt;farther away, yet somehow closer&lt;br /&gt;moving, bending&lt;br /&gt;that light&lt;br /&gt;warming me&lt;br /&gt;taunting me&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;as I take my first uneasy step&lt;br /&gt;toward the light&lt;br /&gt;I wonder -&lt;br /&gt;what is at the end&lt;br /&gt;of a rainbow in the night?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the people I sent the first "draft" to asked what it meant, and if it meant I was scared...  to be honest, when I sat down to write it, it wasn't about anything more than that one line.  It had no meaning.  At least not that I intended at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess if I were to place a meaning on it now, it would be about what I went through the past few months.  I closed my eyes to shut out the world, and tried as hard as I could to shut down my brain and stop thinking about things, cause the more I thought about them the more they hurt.   Then the flip side of that is that I didn't want it to stop hurting.  If it didn't hurt, would that mean I didn't care anymore?  If it didn't hurt, how would I know that I could still feel?  That I was still "alive?"    so yeah, in that sense I guess it's about fear.  Fear of losing touch with myself. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Then the light would be the end of the tunnel.  Be it death, redemption, hope, finally getting over it and moving on, whatever...    So the rainbow in the night perhaps is all the wonderful things that came from that experience.  Changing branches, reconnecting with some old friends, making some new ones...    I can chase the end of the rainbow, but will I ever catch it?  Do I want to ever catch it?   I am getting over things and moving on, but at what cost?  What is at the end of a rainbow in the night?  Or am I better off not knowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-697140927099831054?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/697140927099831054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/rainbow-redux.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/697140927099831054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/697140927099831054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/rainbow-redux.html' title='Rainbow Redux'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-5539879489400041607</id><published>2009-02-20T20:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T21:03:52.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some more Snapshots....</title><content type='html'>“The great accomplishments of man have resulted from the transmission of ideas and enthusiasm.”&lt;br /&gt;(Thomas J. Watson, Sr., former president of IBM, who was born on this day in 1874)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;and the great accomplishments of woman have resulted from the need to fix what the man has tried to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(who says I'm not a feminist?  oh yeah, I do!)&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A man is not paid for having a head and hands, but for using them.”&lt;br /&gt;(Elbert Hubbard, writer)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unless you're Pee Wee Herman or George Michael, then he's arrested for using his hands on his head.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man is not paid for having a head and hands, cause if he had no head he wouldn't be alive.  If he had no hands though, THAT he might get paid for.  He'd certainly get laughed at, then he'd sue for defamation of character, then he'd get paid. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what else a man can get for using a head and hands?  Arrested.   Particularly if he's trying to break down a door and he uses his hands and someone else's head to bust a hole in it.&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”&lt;br /&gt;(Nelson Mandela, first President of South Africa)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an even better glory would be in falling, but never actually landing.  Or for those of you "in the know," falling, but distracting yourself a split second before you hit the ground.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “You can destroy your now by worrying about tomorrow.”&lt;br /&gt;(Janis Joplin, musician)&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;                &lt;br /&gt;You can also destroy your now by stepping in front of a wrecking ball.&lt;br /&gt;Or in Janis' case, with a bottle of Southern Comfort.&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of Janis, maybe if she'd done a little more worrying about her tomorrow, she would have had one.  I'm just sayin....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-5539879489400041607?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5539879489400041607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/some-more-snapshots.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5539879489400041607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5539879489400041607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/some-more-snapshots.html' title='Some more Snapshots....'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-960746467565850472</id><published>2009-02-14T11:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T11:11:19.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Alexander Smith, poet)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.  Love is the discovery in others of that which we are missing in ourselves, and the appreciation and delight in the recognition thereof.  We love others not despite what they themselves might be missing, but because of those things, and how we are able to fill that part of them the way they fulfill us.  For we cannot love until we know ourselves, both what we are and what we are not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-960746467565850472?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/960746467565850472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-valentines-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/960746467565850472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/960746467565850472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s day'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-7980007297398961183</id><published>2009-02-14T11:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T11:10:11.775-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy birthday Abe!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;“Be sure you put your feet in the right place, then stand firm.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(16th U.S. President Abraham Lincoln)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you're not sure whether or not your feet are in the right place, first try putting you left foot in.  If that doesn't work, take your left foot out, then put your left foot back in, and shake it all about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, how funny is the image of old Abe Lincoln doing the Hokey Pokey? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in in Liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men do the Hokey Pokey and turn themselves about.  Because that my fellow Americans, is what it's all about!"  &lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-7980007297398961183?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/7980007297398961183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-abe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7980007297398961183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/7980007297398961183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-abe.html' title='Happy birthday Abe!'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-5657520925811312876</id><published>2009-02-14T11:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T11:08:14.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SNAPSHOTS (the beginning)</title><content type='html'>ok, so at work we get regular e-mail newsletter kind of things called Sovereign Snapshots which all start off with a quote. Usually inspirational or motivational. Well, one morning, I read the quote, and as is my nature, made a snarky, sarcastic comment about it. Thus was born my Snapshots thought for the day. I take the quote and add my own addition or commentary to it. &lt;br /&gt;here are a few of my Snapshots Thoughts of the Day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.”&lt;br /&gt;(Babe Ruth, legendary baseball player) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unless you have a baseball bat. then it's easy.&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”&lt;br /&gt;(Mark Twain, author) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when a small person tries to belittle your ambitions, they are really just trying to bring them down to a level where they might be able to actually reach them. Cause being small, it's hard to reach ambitions that for the rest of us are easily within reach. Unless they have a step stool or something, but how practical is that? We really expect them to carry a stool around everywhere just to reach "averaged" height ambitions? How fair is THAT?? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe it's just me, but the really great people make me feel totally inadequate. The sort of great people make me feel like maybe I could be great, and the terrible people make me feel like I'm already great. But the really great, well, they make me feel like I need to carry a step-stool around.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”&lt;br /&gt;(Nelson Mandela, first President of South Africa) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, not much I can say about this one. It's actually a pretty good quote. Then again, I don't think conquering the fear is what makes one brave. I think the bravery is in ATTEMPTING to conquer the fear, despite being afraid. Because one can fail to conquer the fear and yet still be brave. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid (that is the stupid man, or the man who has had too much to drink and/or smoke), and not the man who conquers the fear (that is the strong man, the wise man, the powerful man, the lucky(?) man). No, the brave man is he who feels great fear yet decides on his own accord to tackle it and try to triumph over it. Thus courage is the recognition of one's fear and the audacity to meet it head on in spite of itself.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We can throw stones, complain about them, stumble on them, climb over them, or build with them.”&lt;br /&gt;(William Arthur Ward, author) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or we can throw stones at the people who complain about stones, so that they have something to complain about. Then when they try to attack us, they'll stumble on the stones we threw at them. And we can build something that they will have to try to climb, at which point we can throw more stones from our new higher vantage point. Then they'll complain again, and we'll just laugh and throw more stones.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Success is getting what you want. Happiness is wanting what you get.”&lt;br /&gt;(Dale Carnegie, author)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Power is making the people want what you have, giving them just enough to make them want more, then taking it all away. &lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing is an obstacle unless you say it is.”&lt;br /&gt;(Wally Amos, businessman and founder of Famous Amos cookies)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, you can't very well overcome an obstacle unless you recognize it as one. Otherwise, you're not really doing anything special, are you? &lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Faith is taking the first step, even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”&lt;br /&gt;(Martin Luther King, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, a good way to break your neck is taking more than the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase.&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I trust that everything happens for a reason, even when we’re not wise enough to see it.”&lt;br /&gt;(Oprah Winfrey) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, this is a very smart quote, because if you're not wise enough to see the reason, so most likely aren't smart enough to know if whatever reason people tell you is behind it is true or not. Oprah saying this is kind of like a weatherman saying that it will be partly cloudy with a chance of showers. See, you expect clouds and rain, and when there aren't any, you're pleasantly surprised and say that the weatherman doesn't know what he was talking about. But did he say there WOULD be rain? No, just that there was a chance of rain. Is Oprah saying that everything does in fact happen for a reason? No, she's just saying that she believes they do, and that anyone who doesn't feel that way, well, they just aren't as wise as she is. This is also kind of like people saying that everything that happens is "God's will" and "His plan." And when something happens that is not easily explained, well, then "God works in mysterious ways." It's like the ultimate political CYA! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything happens for a reason. If you can't see the reason, it's not cause there isn't one, it's just that you're too stupid to see it. Very Oprah, very Oprah indeed.&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;“There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction.”&lt;br /&gt;(Winston Churchill, former British prime minister)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you're in an old west movie and the bad guy (or good guy, depending on who you are) loads his shotgun with dimes...  then there's a whole lot wrong with change, regardless of which direction it is in.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The best preparation for tomorrow is doing your best today.”&lt;br /&gt;(H. Jackson Brown, Jr., author)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Actually Mr Brown, I'd have to argue that the best preparation for tomorrow is surviving today.  Cause if you aren't alive to see tomorrow, it doesn't much matter whether or not you did your best today.  And what ever happened to the idea of tomorrow being a brand new day and starting all over again?  If your tomorrow is based your performance today, then it isn't really a NEW day is it?  It's just a continuation of today.  And if you don't do well today, or have an off day, well, then there's always tomorrow right?  Right Mr Brown?  Perhaps in some contexts (school, etc), today's performance does impact one's preparedness for tomorrow, but again, don't survive today and no amount of preparation will help you tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Think not of yourself as the architect of your career but as the sculptor. Expect to do a lot of hard hammering and chiseling and scraping and polishing.”&lt;br /&gt;(B.C. Forbes, founder of Forbes magazine)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;and then expect your hard work to not be appreciated until after you are dead. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And isn't it good to know that B.C Forbes of Forbes magazine is telling you that your career choice is in fact set in stone once you begin?  &lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe.”&lt;br /&gt;(Muhammad Ali, boxer)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;No, I think it really is the mountains.  Or at least the trails up them.  Personally, I would not get worn out having a pebble in my shoe if I were sitting at the bar watching someone ELSE trudge up the mountain, I'd actually feel pretty darn good about myself!&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If we all did the things we were capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.”&lt;br /&gt;(Thomas Edison, inventor and businessman who was born on this day in 1847)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If we all did all the things we were capable of, and were used to doing all the things we were capable of, why would we be astounded?  What is so astounding about doing something we know we can do to begin with?  Now, if we all did things we were in no way capable of... THAT would be astounding!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-5657520925811312876?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5657520925811312876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/snapshots-beginning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5657520925811312876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5657520925811312876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/snapshots-beginning.html' title='SNAPSHOTS (the beginning)'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-2805165647921123433</id><published>2009-02-14T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T10:55:27.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>warning....</title><content type='html'>So I feel it is time to offer you a disclaimer before I really get going with this thing.  I am not an eloquent writer.  I am certainly not a talented writer in the “I should write a book” sense.  Some of you are, and I wish I could say things half as well as you, but then I wouldn’t be me would I?   &lt;br /&gt;There was a time when I did a fair amount of writing.  It wasn’t a good time for me, and I’m not sure the writing is any good either, but in re-reading it now, I think it still captures who I was then (and to a large extent still am – despite Alice’s observation in part 1) and what I was going through at the time(s) I wrote them.  I am going to put some of that stuff on here for a few reasons.  One: Because I have told some of you (if those of you I told this to are actually reading this, otherwise nevermind) that I would let you read it.  One-A: Because I made someone a promise many years ago.  A very good friend gave me a journal to write things in with the promise that when it was full, I would give it back to her.  I don’t think I will ever actually fill it (and considering most of my writing is done when I’m trolling the depths of my soul, that’s a good thing), and I’m not sure that she’d want it anymore even if I could fill it.  But that book saved me back then.  I have never been good at expressing my feelings except in writing, be it poetry, letters, emails, etc…  Having that place to put those feelings, and knowing that no one could judge me for them unless I wanted them to, was precisely what I needed.  &lt;br /&gt; Two:  It might help get the creative juices flowing to sit down and rehash and re-type some of that old stuff.  &lt;br /&gt; Three:  You cannot truly know who I am without knowing who I was.  As much as I would like to go back and change the things that caused me to write them, those “experiences” made me who I am.  There is of course more to it than that, and maybe someday I will get around to discussing some of those things in more depth, but for now let’s just say that while I do not wish to GO back to yesterday, I do wish to LOOK back to yesterday and learn from yesterday in order to ensure that I will be here for tomorrow.  And more importantly, to make sure that the me of today and the me of tomorrow are people I’d be proud of and would want to introduce you to.  Many of you knew the Brandt of yesterday, some of you even knew the Brandt of day before yesterday, and yes, I was a different person then, but for better or for worse, I am still me.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer #2.   There’s one thing I like as much as I like quotes… tangents.  And bad puns.  Ok, two, there are two things I like as much as quotes, tangents and bad puns.   And metaphors.  Three!  There are three things I like as much as quotes, tangents, bad puns, and metaphors, often cheesy, obscure, over-used, at times impossible to follow metaphors.  And derailed trains of thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-2805165647921123433?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/2805165647921123433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2805165647921123433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/2805165647921123433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/warning.html' title='warning....'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-5721897879266395978</id><published>2009-02-14T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T10:54:42.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm just sayin....</title><content type='html'>If you know me, and/or if you stick with me long enough in this thing, you will know that I like quotes.   I really like quotes.  A large portion of this blog (and hopefully an ongoing one, unless you tell me otherwise) will be quotes and my reactions (serious and not) to them.  We get a daily newsletter via email at work, and each one starts off with an inspirational or motivational saying of some kind.  I have taken to adding my two cents worth and forwarding it along to some of my friends.  I want to make them a part of this blog because, well, it’s my forum and I can say anything I want, so there!  If they are not successful, and do not get any feedback, I will stop posting them, and rest assured, I will most likely not put all of them on here anyways, cause frankly, not all of them are that interesting or worthy of comment/ridicule.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of quotes.  A few months ago, when I really needed them, I stumbled upon what have become two of my favorites.  The first is from Dr Seuss of all places, and has made me want to go back and re-read all of his books as an adult to see what other gems of wisdom might be hiding in those pages. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second is from Alice in Wonderland, and pretty much sums up what I’ve been working very hard to do for the past 15 years, and will continue to do every day from now on.  Again, many of you have heard me say these over and over, and I apologize.  No wait, I DON’T apologize!  I am tired of apologizing for who I am and the way I say and do things.  They are good thoughts, and I am pretty sure I am not the only one here to whom they speak.  So, without further ado…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “Don’t cry because it’s over.  Smile because it happened.”  &lt;br /&gt;- Dr Seuss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “But it’s no use going back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” &lt;br /&gt; -Lewis Carroll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And now, because I do like quotes oh so much, here’s one more for the road: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”  -Dr Seuss  (see, told you he was full of insight!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-5721897879266395978?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5721897879266395978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-just-sayin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5721897879266395978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5721897879266395978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-just-sayin.html' title='I&apos;m just sayin....'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5004481733465192988.post-5173066827737386975</id><published>2009-02-14T10:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T10:39:30.775-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain?  What are you doing Brain?</title><content type='html'>So I’m sitting here at my table with a glass of scotch and a warm laptop trying to start this, my blog.  Not because I feel I have anything important to say, or at least not anything important enough to make you read.  I am doing this on a dare.  A double dog dare in fact.  Sort of an “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” kind of thing.  So here I am, dutifully typing away lest it become the dreaded triple dog dare, which invariably leads to having your tongue stuck to a cold flagpole.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t help but feel like maybe that’s exactly what this process of blogging is all about, daring yourself to lick the pole and see what sticks.  For when we lay ourselves out like this post our thoughts and feelings, it really is like having our tongues frozen to a flagpole.  The warmest and softest parts of ourselves exposed for all to see, leaving us vulnerable to a good swift kick in the ass or two.  Not that we don’t all need that now and then, but it hurts nevertheless.  And what’s worse than getting kicked and sucker-punched when you can’t fight back?  Having everyone laugh at you simply because you dared to try.  You dared to be brave, to do what so many others wouldn’t.  Or couldn’t.  And yet there you are, the laughing stock of the schoolyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for me, I grew up in Southern California where it never got cold enough to get your tongue stuck to the flagpoles.  So with that small comfort in the back of my mind, I am taking the dare, walking up to the flagpole and sticking out my tongue.  Laugh if you want to, cheer if you want to, follow me if you dare.  It’s a small act, but a huge leap of faith.  I can’t promise it will be fun, and I can’t promise it will always be safe, but I CAN promise it will be a wild ride, and if you are willing to join me, strap in and crank the radio, cause here we go….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5004481733465192988-5173066827737386975?l=brandtsbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/5173066827737386975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/brain-what-are-you-doing-brain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5173066827737386975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5004481733465192988/posts/default/5173066827737386975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brandtsbrain.blogspot.com/2009/02/brain-what-are-you-doing-brain.html' title='Brain?  What are you doing Brain?'/><author><name>Brandt's Brain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00788393826919215883</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_S-fChKSo64c/ScLenuF4cBI/AAAAAAAAACc/4hVKHqYFLKY/S220/brandt_zw.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
