The Story of Hope

Once upon a time, Prometheus, a powerful Titan, created the first woman: Pandora. Pandora was beautiful and pure, much like you and I. However, one day, Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and the other Gods of Olympus and gave it to man...

Even though Zeus punished Prometheus, the Gods decided to take out their anger on mankind. They each offered Pandora a gift. Zeus gave Pandora a special, sacred Jar, telling her that she was to not look inside.

It was a trap for her curiosity.

Inside the jar were vile, disgusting things: Pain, torment, evil creatures.... even death. Pandora could not resist the magical Jar, as it followed her everywhere. One day she couldn't take it; she opened the jar.

Death and destruction leaped out to reek havoc upon mankind and the earth.


Pandora reached to shut the jar up forever....but it was too late. Mankind lost control of chaos and death.

Pandora was so distraught she cried a pool of acid...
However, there was one thing left inside the jar after the lid was closed:


HOPE.


Mankind had kept the gift of hope. If hope was to be released, man would truly lose. So the Jar was hidden. Locked away forever.


Those who journeyed after hope lost their way, never came back, or just disappeared. But those who found it realized that hope was preserved, and they brought news back to the world.

"Hope is alive" they said. "And it will last forever.

Worldview Paper

Daniel Holt

Mr. Weems

DE Christian Worldview

29 November 2010

Personal Worldview

I don’t see the point in trying to even write this. I’m just going to go home and cry anyways. No one will ever see this or care. The worldview hold has morphed drastically over the past few months. I no longer see the world as a place of peace, love, or joy. There is only corruption and room for failure. I can’t say anything without it being overly criticized or drastic action being taken. Apparently, I can’t even think without being a danger to myself and society. Not my fault I wanted to kill myself, and wish I had. Look, I’m spilling my heart out for a stupid worldview paper that isn’t even half a page long yet. There’s no point. Guess I’m a nihilist. Life isn’t worth living at the moment. So I guess I’ll just end the paper here….

Know This:

"Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;

Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:

What is it else?"
 
     ~Romeo
 
No matter how the world destroys my soul, my heart is yours....
 

Not Wanted Anymore

For Stars, where comes the light of day?
Or raindrops sweet,
Nor flowers May?
When constellations form and shape
To see the height
And from night rape
Passing debris without second thought
O'er-lording all
Self-righteous brought
Cleansing from all space the "trash"
Of horror wrought
The sinful rash
Of evil, hateful, rancid rust
To "save" the world...

...Yet even stars soon turn to dust.

Together

I owe you my life. I wish the world could see us as we are, happy, unafriad, sailing through stars. United as one, forever we are floating along. Cuz we are together, together forever. <3

PROUD

It's Day 16!!!!! And I owe it all to one person-- my boyfriend.

Thats right I'm gay get over it! =P and PROUD BABI!!

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH SEAN!!!!! MUAH!!!!! <3

In Love with my Brother

"May she wake in torment!" he cried with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end. Where is she? Not there--not in heaven --not perished---where?---Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer---I repeat it till my tongue stiffens---Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living! You said I killed you---haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always----take any form ---drive me mad---only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! O God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"

--Heathcliff

Probably the most remembered passage in Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights, Heathcliff reveals his obsession and passion for Catherine. His mind curses her, yet his heart blesses her. How true the conflict of love and hate this is.

A popular song states: "Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, that's all right because I love the way it hurts." Rihanna couldn't be more right. I've been there, and it's painful. Yet you want the other person so bad, so passionately, you feel you need them there, even if they set you on fire.

That's exactly how I felt the night my heart had been torn apart....

I had found the love of my life.

That was the night my father came in my room, trying to ask me about something. A guy on facebook had added me, another guy, as his boyfriend. My dad wanted to know if it was true, and what on earth I was thinking.

Yes, it was true. I was thinking that I loved him.

I won't name him, so don't worry, you're safe. :)

I was not embarrassed, but just felt so much shame coming from my father, I could barely stand it. I shut down, put up walls, started crying. Eventually he left, too frustrated to even look at me any more.

I told my boyfriend, and he was devastated. He never wanted me to have to go through that again. So he left....

I had been positive he was the one, my soul mate, the one who actually loved me, no matter what.... And partially, thats true. He will always love me, and I will always love him, as a brother. In fact, now we are brothers. We have been through so much. We always joke we both "have the shovel" and can be there for each other as fast as we can.

He will always be my brother.

Yet he was my boyfriend, for one day, and I wouldnt change a single thing. <3

I will post more when I have the courage.
Love,

Danny

I was afraid to turn this in as my AP English assignment because of its content. Yet I (willingly) choose to put this on my blog, knowing it may even reach people from my school. I'm not afraid. In fact, I'm proud.

Poison, Peace, and Elevator Music

When a situation comes that requires a quick, rational response, people are prone to panic and chaos. Emotion. Tears. You can hear the strife on the 911 calls. Cries of pain and shock. Car crashes. Some people are even drawn to aggression. It is frightening.

Saturday night, I was one of those people.

I had gotten a text from a close friend in another state while I was at work. It read: "I'm such a stupid wimp, i couldn't even finish my stupid life. *screams*"

I panicked.

Looking back, I'm surprised I acted the way I did. I immediately called her, only to get her voice mail. I said if she didn't call me back I would call the police, afraid she was dead.

Normally, I'm calm, understanding, and "under control." Now, think of the exact opposite: Wild, confused, emotional mess.

She called me back a few minutes later. Although we were on the phone for 15 minutes, I doubt she said more than 10 words. (This, along with my phone dying, didn't help my stress level.) I used a co-worker's phone, all the while smashing chocolate with a hammer. (I work at a Chocolatier. I'm sorry chocolate, I didn't mean to hurt you.)

My co-worker offered to pray with her, even though she declined. We both suggested she call 1-800-SUICIDE, the anonymous suicide hotline number. She eventually hung up.

Well, since she didn't, I did.

I called the suicide hotline. The routed me to the closest crisis center. Elevator music played in the background. It sounded like something out of "Chariots of Fire," and my co-worker and I couldn't help but laugh. Of all times to play music with a tone like "You can do it!"

Once I was routed, a young woman picked up the phone. I quickly explained what had happened to the best of my ability, still frantic and hopeless. I was scared. She was so nice and caring and showed me I did the right thing. She encouraged me to keep pursuing her, and I gave the woman her phone number. I'm guessing she called and left her a message, because I eventually got a text saying "I'm gonna kick your ass through the phone. :) "

Afterwards, my co-worker suggested we pray. I looked at her like she was crazy. I was thinking "My friend is on the edge of killing herself, and you want us to pray? Are you crazy?" I wanted to be like "Screw that, I'm calling 9-1-1." But I let her. As we held hands in the back of a chocolate store, I could her the prayers of us and a million others crying out to God, "Help us." I cried.

We then went back to doing our jobs, yet never forgetting that night. The suicide hotline number is now listed under our emergency contact list at work, and I feel much safer.


1-800-SUICIDE is a national hotline dedicated to crisis relief. It is completely anonymous, and only acts on information given to them. To Write Love on Her Arms gives some of their donations toward this cause. 18 million people in the United States alone suffer from depression. Please, if you or a loved one are going through times of turmoil and need help right now, call them. They're always there, and I highly recommend them. They saved me and my friend.

1-800-SUICIDE
(1-900-784-2433)

Your story matters.

Rescue is possible.

Love is the movement.

Alejandro

So as you all know, or should know, Lady Gaga is my idol and my hero. Her works inspire my soul and her passion fuels my creativity.

I just watched her recently released music video for "Alejandro," and I am speechless.

It is so freakin' sexy. Gaga and her gang are as hot as ever!

It is a perfect representation on the fruitlessness of war and oppression. However, to me it also depicts life as a battle. What will you live for, fight for, and possibly die for? Love? Sex? Romance? Beauty? War? Hatred? Religion? Passion? Tradition? Freedom?

But don't take my word for it....

Watch it for yourself! (Click Here)

Shooting Stars

"The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope." - Renee Yohe

Where is my hope? I gave up on hope long ago.

Emily Dickinson wrote that "Hope is the thing with feathers / That perches in the soul / And sings the tune without the words / And never stops / At all...." Yet she also wrote: "Because I could not stop for Death / He kindly stopped for me." She rejoices in death and hope at the same time, as if they can co-exist, be synonyms,  be the same.

Are death and hope the same?

Renee Yohe is one of my heroes. To Write Love on Her Arms was started because of her story, her struggles. But I am not as brave as her. I am too lazy, weak, hopeless. She sees the stars and all their wonder...

                    ...but all I can see are black holes....

"Let's pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars. I could really use a wish right now...."

"Why Can't I Own a Canadian?"

"Why Can't I Own a Canadian?"


NOTE: I DO NOT OWN THIS

October 2002

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?


I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?


I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.


Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?


A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?


Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?


Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?


I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.
Your devoted fan,
Jim

(This was taken from http://www.humanistsofutah.org/2002/WhyCantIOwnACanadian_10-02.html)

"Love Is..." -Michael Crichton

"Most of the people I know confuse love with possession. It's easy to see why; it's built into the fundamental assumptions of our culture. "You're mine," says the popular song, "and we belong together." Hardly anyone stops to question the sentiment.

As soon as we feel love, we immediately attempt to possess. We speak confidently of my boyfriend, my wife, my child, my parent. We feel justified in holding expectations about those people. We consider that perfectly reasonable.

Why? Because all our concepts of love ultimately derive from romantic love — and romantic love is furiously, frantically possessive. We want to be with our lover, to have them to ourselves, to feel their eyes on us, to consume their minds and bodies...to possess them.

So strongly do we equate love with possession that we may even feel if someone doesn't want to possess us, they don't really love us. Yet I would argue that what we call romantic love is not love at all. It's a kind of emotional storm, an overpowering, thrilling attraction — but it isn't love.

Because real love isn't possessive. It can't be. We'd all agree that love involves giving, not taking. Yet the desire to possess actually springs from the lover's own need — the need for approval from the beloved, for support from a parent, for straight A's from a child, for status, for financial security — for something. A possessive lover is overly focused on what he's getting, not what he's giving. The lover may dignify his dependency with the name love, but it's a lie. How can you really love somebody when you're dependent on them for things you need? That isn't love, that's just manipulation to keep the needed stuff coming your way. Robert Palmer sings about being "addicted to love," but nobody really is. People are addicted to their needs.

And love isn't the same as need. It just isn't.

Of course, a loving relationship will produce interdependencies. But all too often, the pleasure of freely giving changes to a fear of possibly not getting. It's just that this person — your husband, your girlfriend, your child — is suddenly so important to you. You worry about what's going to happen. What they're going to do. And at that moment, love stops.

People sometimes wonder if they're feeling real love. These same people never wonder if they're sexually aroused, or sad. Then what's the problem about recognizing love? Most often, because they're sensing a conflict: they're feeling the depth of their need, not the heights of their love.

There are ways to know real love. It feels calm. It's steady, and it can easily last a lifetime. It's nourishing — people grow under its influence. They become who they really are, and now what someone expects them to be. Real love isn't blind; on the contrary, people feel understood, accepted for who they really are. It's healing. People recover.

So whenever you hear that love is blind, or love can't last, or love is destructive, you can be sure that you're hearing a description of lust, or desire, or need. And it's an accurate description, because needs really are transient and destructive.

But love is something else entirely. An emotion of deep caring that asks nothing in return, an emotion that is fulfilling without any expectation at all, is so rare that most people in our society can't imagine it. They can't imagine feeling it, or receiving it. They may even come to believe it doesn't exist. But it does.

And it's the best thing there is. "
 
-Michael Crichton, 1988
The preceding is of no way owned by the author of this blog and is the sole work of Michael Crichton, author of many novels, including The Andromeda Strain and Jurassic Park.

Nails

I was at youth group. People were singing. I was sitting down, as usual, thinking about how much I hate God. One of my friends stood next to me in the isle, noticing how down I was. When our youth pastor got up after the song, he nailed my feelings to the wall:

"I know the whole message today was about how God proves throughout the Bible that he is a good God, but while we were singing, I couldn't get this question out of my head: what is it that keeps me from believing that? So, I think we should take a minute or so to just... think about that...."


When the next song started playing, my friend sat down next to me. He asked if I was ok. When I didn't respond, he put his arm around me. I looked up, reached around my neck, and ripped my necklace apart. I tossed it to the side of the bench....

My friend got me up, brought me into the other room, and talked to me. He asked me questions, I told him what was wrong, and showed him my arm. Then he did something I will never ever forget. He showed me his  arm. His clean, scar-free, muscular arms. The exact opposite of my red, marked-up, beaten arms. He told me it was a miracle he didn't have scars. All over his arms. Like me. He said he had been there, and knows exactly what it feels like. The most traumatic thing that happened to him was the recent death of his grandpa. He would go into his room and just bleed, write FUCKED UP on his arm, deep cuts.

He told me he had hated God. He said he's seen people go down the tubes, throw away their lives, go to drugs, go to alcohol, run to sex. He said they were ok for a while. Yet their lives always made a turn for the worst. Looking at me, he said, "It's ok to be mad at God. Your life will be ok for a while, be fun, look good. But pretty soon," he said, pointing at both our arms, "this happens."

We went back into the main room because youth group was over. He told me he was always there for me, always able to talk to me. We now both had someone to talk to. He looked at me necklace, and asked me why I chose it. A rose. "It's the most beautiful flower, and the ugliest when it dies." I honestly chose it because a part of me hoped it would symbolize true love, hope. Yet there it was, broken. My friend lifted his necklace, a brown, beat-up cross. He told me it was his grandpa's.

He lifted it up over his head and put it around mine.....

"Whenever you look at this, remember: there's a nail here, a nail here, and a nail here. The person under those nails died for you. He loves you."

He then proceeded to tell me that he would yell at me, out of love, if he ever saw marks on me again....

Break

My world has officially fallen apart....

dhPhotography


....The only question is how I am going to put it back together....

Loveless

(My new song... I hope to put it to music soon....)

Loveless


I can't believe you missed it
Those sad and sorry eyes
All those strangled sobs
And all the tears I cried


I don't know if you heard me
But I knew that it was you
I felt those knives
Inside my heart
Their whispers all say so


[But] now I'm left here, lonely
Hanging on for life
Crying by myself
I see, finally
I'm left here
Loveless
When will you see
You left me loveless
To see the scars with pain
And search the stars in vain
Forever I'll be loveless


Once again I've failed you
So I let go of all hope
I walked out, down the driveway
And heard you lock the door
No whispers anymore


So... [chorus]


I believed you
Sorry if you heard me
But I knew
Inside my heart
I'm left here
Finally,
Loveless
You left me
And
Forever I'll be
Loveless
[Whisper:] Loveless.... <3

MY LIFE.... Yeah, that's exactly what I said....

I have to write an autobiography for one of my classes: Career Research. So, of course, I turn to writing my ideas down to sort out my pathetic life.... Or in this case blog about it.

I don't even know if I'm going to put this on my blog. I mean, who wants to read my rants about my pathetic life??? I'll probably just put my autobiography on there and leave this to the voices in my head...

Ok, what to put on there. I was born on September 30, 1992 in a pathetic Winter Park hospital. I don't even remember my first house; we have driven by and all I wish to say is that it is small pathetic excsue for a shack and that my mother screamed that they painted it an ugly peach color.

When I was two, we moved to my current house. A remote area in Lake Mary somehow drove my parents crazy over the house. It's blue with white trim, and it's the only home I have. I love that house. All its beat up floors, all the falling apart fixtures and rusty doors, all the dust and wear from use. To see how much a person values their possessions, look at its war scars; The new floor boards, the freshly painted siding, the fixed bathroom tiles....I fear I may soon not be able to call it home any more...

I am now 17 and a junior at Orangewood Christian School. How in hell I survived is a mystery...

My parents are not really the "traditional, moral" parents. My mom was divorced with two children. She was adopted into a wonderful family, who's parents soon got divorced. Her mom remarried, and he became my grandpa. My dad was the oldest of his many siblings; I keep losing track on how many there are. His dad died in Vietnam, and his mother remarried. Her new husband died soon after I was born.

I have three siblings and one niece. One older brother who lives in Chicago, one older sister with a daughter who is five, and a younger brother who is 13.

My family is foundationally Christian. I don't know if we are specifically one denomination or another. I just know we're NOT Catholic. I had grown up in the church and Christian schools: sunday school first, then the boring lessons, then the dragging sermons, and then the drudgingly long Bible classes. At first I enjoyed them. What was this new fascination I observed that everyone else had with God and Jesus and heaven? Soon my attention began to wane and my fascination along with it. All I heard was "Repent Repent Repent." Which translated into "You Suck You Suck You Suck." Sure, God loves me anyway. Ok I can deal with that. But why would God want some sucky person like that??

If you made it this far I commend you. I refuse to go on about religion any longer and bore the heck out of you. Not that you weren't bored already.

In second grade I moved to a public school for one year. It was tough, but not as tough as life would be later. We were just kids back then and didn't understand ANYTHING. I soon moved back to my old school. Third grade, 9-11 happened. Fourth grade, I made some friends. Fifth grade, they all turned on me. After threats on my life, we decided to move me, and later my younger brother, to Orangewood. I stayed there through eighth grade. Then came the life-changer. Boom. (Yeah, pretty dramatic, right? Ok, it sounded more like this:)

"Guess what?!?! You're going to public school!!!!"

Now, don't get me wrong. Public school can be great for those who know how it works. I was this stupid, innocent, retarded freshmen who knew NOTHING about the real world or high school. So, I was doomed from the start. This huge transition, although only for one year, tested my morals, my "religion," my beliefs, my standards, my self-esteem, and my emotions.

I was diagnosed with depression the end of sophomore year....

Depression has basically ruled my life for at least the past three years. Pain. Sorrow. Hurt. I cannot remember when it started. Possibly in middle school, definitely in high school. I have been sad, tired, hopeless, and suicidal. I finally told my youth pastor and a great friend after writing a suicide letter one night; they saved me more than I can imagine. However, along with other major problems I don't really wish to discuss, the depression got worse and worse and worse until I finally couldn't take it any more.

So I ran away.

My friend picked me up and we left a note at my house saying I was safe and not to worry. I told them I was depressed and suicidal. I drove to a friend's house and spent the night. My phone, however, died after getting so many calls and text messages.... I guess somebody cared....

That wasn't the last time I ran away. I have constantly been running, both physically and figuratively. I am scared of change, scared of being truly happy, scared of hate and sorrow. I am terrified of myself. But no one can run from themselves....

We went to a recommended therapist, who I still go to to this day. In fact, my appointment is tomorrow. I love him. He is amazing, wonderful, kind, and caring. I can't wait to see him.

My mom also took me to the doctor, who prescribed prozac for my depression. I started at 5mg a day, and am now at triple that.

Soon after I started cutting.... It is a way of escape for me. A release. Sometimes a way to actually feel something instead of just being numb. Feeling the sharp sting of pain revives my focus to here and now. I can only see the blood, not the sorrow....

Today I have been free from cutting for who knows how long. A week. A month. Who knows. I lost track.

I met a lot of friends on facebook from a non-profit group called To Write Love on Her Arms. We constantly message each other and encourage each other. I love them to death <3

So here I am. Lost for lonely love to find....
~Daniel

Hi, My Name is Danny and I'm an Addict

I just finished listening to my youth pastor's first sermon on iTunes. (I had missed the actual sermon because I had to work. I am so so sorry Zach. I'm coming to Go Project on Sunday. <3)

I am in shock....

Just.... shock.....

The way he spoke, although maybe worded differently than his normal dialog, sprang from his heart and leaped straight into mine.

I encourage every single person out there, whether you're a Christian or an atheist, a Jew or a Muslim, a man or a woman, straight or gay, young or old, to listen to this. It made me feel LOVED. That I belong, that I can be free, that there is hope. That everyone struggles like I do.

I choose to do what Zach said he almost did in his sermon. I believe I am ready.

Hi, my name is Danny and I'm addicted to:

-Sorrow
-Sexuality
-Tears
-Attention
-Drama
-Romance
-Hate
-Pain
-Self-Image
-Self-Loathing
-Pride From Others (Specifically my parents)
-Music
-Success
-Belonging

What Zach says is right. We need fellowship. We need each other. We need light. <3

Here's the link to download his sermon. It's absolutely free and doesn't cost you anything. I put it on my iPod. The title is "Hi, my Name is Zach and I'm an Addict."
http://www.orangewood.org/share/sermons/

As Zach would say, "So glad it's all about grace."

Rivers of Revolutions

Happy New Year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My new year's resolutions are numerous, but I wish to post the major ones here; they can be summed up, like most of everything in my heart, as one word: love.


-To find love. I will strive to find the love of my life, my soul mate, my other half. I know they are out there. I will find you, I promise. <3

-To love others. I will unleash as much love and compassion and mercy on others as possible.

-To love myself. I will obtain a healthy level of self-respect instead of self-loathing.

What are your resolutions?