Bio
Name: Daniel Robert Lance Big Plume
Nickname: Saturnyne
Birthday: May 3, 1980
Age: 26
Sun Sign: Taurus
Moon Sign: Sagittarius
Chinese Zodiac: Monkey (Born)
Height: 170 cm
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Status: Single
Favorites
Color: Blue
Food: Chicken
Animal: Cat
Anime: Sailormoon
Show: CSI
PJ's: Sweatpants/ T-shirt
Pokemon: Porygon
Website: NHB Radio
My Linux Desktop
Current Moods
Song: Dog's A Best Friend's Dog
Links
Official Sins Of Science Homepage
Space-Kitten.Org
Wing Commander CIC
Tears For Fears
Contact
Email: saturnyne1d@netscape.net
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Monday, February 10, 2003
7:16 AM I am sitting here at a friend's computer at 6:03 AM beginning this entry. As I am, I picture myself sitting in my room at my desk, pen in hand and staring at a blank sheet of paper. On that paper, the words that are the end all and be all summary of my life, love, thought, emotion and being are supposed to be scrawled out in beautiful handwriting, a depiction of all that is in my spirit and in my mind. But when I see that piece of paper, it is blank. And it is because I haven't tried. My mind seeks new activities. It seeks enlightenment and yet, it also seeks solitude. I am, as Neil Tennant says, "looking out the back of a house at the edge of town". I am looking off into a vague and unfamiliar landscape with a horizon that I wish to cross. Instead, I drape myself in the warmth of seclusion and soothe my guilty soul with words that make it naught but a victim. I have cried about the hurting, and I have jumped for the joys. I have laughed with the jokes and I have been reverant for the loss. I want to write music, but I lack the means or the ability. I want to shake the foundations of the world with my voice, but I hold my throat silent. So then, I know not the joys nor the sorrows. I live a limbo, a vast expanse of dust, tumbleweeds and far off horizons. It is so easy for me to make blame. To say that I have not done enough for myself. To say that my father never loved me enough that I would want to move forward. To think that I am a victim. Or at least, a victim who deserves to be pitied. I don't deserve pity. I deserve guidance. I need guidance to get this soul to the place it belongs. And in a world where there are so many willing to guide me, I choose to do it on my own. So then, where does that leave things? Where does that leave my life? Am I not living? Have I not lived? Have I not had a complete life? Have I allowed myself to know what it all is? It's a mystery that eludes me. And even though I struggle to solve it, I am hesitant to find out the answer. Perhaps it all lies in that mansion. The one in the mountains. Or maybe in that forest. Or this apartment. Or on this computer. Or maybe the answer is that there is no answer. That it's a pointless venture that leads only to madness. If all were so easy, none would suffer in this world. Happy birthday, Jaymie.
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