Nothing more, nothing less.

We get so caught up in our own lives, in the events that pass us by, in the people who surround us. We become so focused on our work, the latest trends, the current affairs. We lose sight of so many important things, the ones unseen, the scenery that remains constant even as we move incessantly. We forget to appreciate the quiet. We forget to truly look and reflect-- about ourselves, about the world, about life, in general. We forget too easily that it's not all about the grades or the money or the reputation. It's always about something more than that, some unspeakable greatness that is found in the smallest of things.

This video is just another reminder of how greatness surrounds us every day. How can something so simple, like fish in an aquarium be so astounding? This is what they mean by the Sublime in History of Art-- a scene that reminds us of just how small we are. And indeed, as onlookers are deeply silhouetted by the blue green of the water tank, we are forced yet again to acknowledge how small we are. In comparison to the vastness of the sea, the millions and billions of fish and other species in the world, we are but a mere 6 billion humans.

Because we are human, oftentimes, I think we forget that we are just humans. We have the capacity to think, to feel, to plan, to act, to judge. So, we think we are so great, so immortal and invincible. We believe we are the most intelligent beings, we believe we are right, we believe no one else could possibly know better than us. We feel we have the right to control everything, to hold power over others. But when it finally hits us that we are nothing more than human, the word than connotes a meaning much less than "powerful". It strikes us that yes, we are humans...and nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more, nothing less.

Under the comment section on Youtube, there was one who criticized this video and those who considered it to be beautiful:

"Horrible. It's never that crowded in the open sea. Poor animals. And all that only because they want to hear us humans saying things like you are here on youtube.

This is not beautiful, it is brutal."

This comment does bring up a plethora of questions, one of which asks, "What is beauty?" and the other which asks, "Can something be morally deranged and artistic at the same time?" This commentator seems to imply that because the entrapment and display of natural beings is a brutal practice, this scene cannot be considered "beautiful". That its artistic value is lost because it is tainted by some idea of right or wrong. Alas, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? Something that is brutal to one person has every capacity to be considered beautiful to another. Not to sound completely void of morality, but this seems to be fact. Photographs and paintings depicting the havoc wreaked by war are still considered to be art, to retain its sense of creative expression, even if they are portraying or were created in deplorable circumstances. Art, I don't believe, is necessarily bound by a humanistic sense of ethics; in fact, art is precisely that which cannot be defined or contained by human understanding-- artists will say that they do not create for the purpose of profit but that they create because they are driven by this innate drive to express something they cannot label or comprehend.

However, I'm really glad that this person showed us the other perspective of a scene many would call breathtaking and magnificent. There are so many sides to art, so many ways that it influences us daily and we do not even take notice of it. Art does a lot to move the public, yet we have become so interested in technology, the sciences of movement-- faster, stronger, better-- we have become blind to the art that surrounds us each day.

This video holds a lot of appeal for viewers because we become immersed in the scene. We become surrounded by the water that holds the sharks and the fish, we are enveloped by this sense of calm and tranquility, struck by awe and amazement at the beauty that faces us. We are just another human being in the aquarium, drinking in the magnificence that slows everything down. It's like we're in water-- we feel loose and at ease, we feel slowed down but not in a cumbersome way. And as we watch, mesmerized, it hits us that, wow... there's so much more out there than we fully appreciate or realize.

-----

Taken from Arts, Ink

Freaking Pride!

For me, guarding my heart means that I become cynical. Or, more precisely, that I act cynical. But in the process of acting, a lot of times, I become cynical. Not literally cynical, but…emotionally cynical. My guarded heart becomes just another horrible cheesy cliché about hardened, protective hearts that can't open up or let go or let others in. It continues the process of blocking others out, of keeping my thoughts and true emotions in, of shaking it of any … any possibilities of hurt, sadness, betrayal, pain, suffering. I just don't trust people.

I've come to the solid realization that I am just way too damn proud and insecure. How paradoxical. And by "solid realization", I mean that it's something I want to fix; I actually want to do something about it.

Shall I explain?

I'm proud because I'm insecure. I won't show my true emotions because I'm afraid of being judged. I don't admit or point out my flaws because I am afraid that they will be things that whoever I'm with won't handle-- that they will drive them away. I am afraid that someone won't love me if they knew just how fucked up I am. So to keep them, I keep up appearances. I don't like to lose, I don't like to seem weak, so I continually act and pretend in ways that establish my superiority and strength. That's why I won't admit I miss someone, that I would like them to visit, that I do want to see them, that I'm mad they won't come see me, that I'm frustrated that they won't spend time with me. It's why I won't admit that I'm mad, either, because I'm afraid that being mad over a thing like that will make me seem too clingy and needy, too hotheaded, temperamental. That I will seem like such a small person.

And then I use my own wrongful actions as excuses for why I can't or won' t open up to them: "Oh, if I can't even talk to them about something like this, how can I approach them about deeper issues?" in addition to the fact that I just am too afraid to open up because I'm still afraid of judgment. And I don't want pity and I don't need solutions. Sometimes, I just want an ear to listen to me and a ready shoulder to lean on and someone to wipe away my tears. I want someone who will not judge. I want to know that I can trust them to be open-minded, that they will still love and respect me even after knowing all of my faults.

This is most likely why I continually felt (and to some degree, still do feel) so inferior to and disrespected by certain people. Perhaps due to my own insecurities or their projected personal opinions concerning our respective majors, I felt that they did not respect me as an intelligent person of worth. No matter what they said, no matter how much they praised me (seemingly patronizingly), I couldn't shake off this feeling that they did not mean it. I think I let it consume me too much because, like Ruth said, anger is a lot easier to handle than hurt.

Now, I want to change. I want to/need to stop being this person. Granted, it is good to be cautious, to make sure my heart doesn't fly too far away, that my hopes don't outrun me, but…it is also good to learn how to be more human, more humble, more accepted, more accepting, more risky. I need to learn how to risk my heart, to endure hurt, in order to grow. Jesus came down for us and he held nothing back. If we're supposed to live our lives like him, then it makes sense for me to learn how to let go. I need to let go of my pride, my selfishness, my self-centeredness, my insecurities. Because sometimes it's hell, to live like this.

If I'm going to be in a relationship, I might as well give it all I've got. I wasn't always this lazy person who half-asses things. Typically, I give it all I've got. Why shouldn't I do the same, especially for relationships? Romantic and otherwise. God knows it's going to be hard to bite down and just reveal all of my atrocities to the world, but how else am I going to break down my stubborn spirit?

What I want:

I know you don't tell me things I don't already know, but I wish you told me things that I want to hear. For once.

The majority is not always right.

As humans, we have the tendency to follow the actions of others. Whether those actions are good or bad, right or wrong, naturally, we begin to assume that whatever most of the people are doing is what we ourselves should be doing as well. While this clearly has negative effects, it could be said that it possesses positive ones, as well, especially in those cases where the majority is doing right and good. However, this instinct to follow the many, more often than not, leads to the loss of critical thinking and judgment. We no longer know for certain why we do that which we do, for what reasons, what purposes, if this or that is truly what we believe or want to do, or whether our actions and beliefs are defined only by the desire and burden to follow the majority, rather than our own personal beliefs.

In church, it's so easy to get caught up in the majority. After all, if everyone else is doing it and saying it's God's Will, how can anyone else say otherwise? It must be right, it must be true; this must be what I'm meant to do, what I'm supposed to do; this must be how I'm supposed to be, how I'm supposed to feel; I must do this regardless because they say it is written, they say it's God's desire; it's in the Scripture, how could it be wrong?, they know what they're talking about, I don't; I should strive for that spiritual level; I should enact all these applications to my life to be just like them, to serve God, to be like this or that, to feel like that or this, to want something or another, to hunger like him or her, to serve like that person or this person, etc etc etc etc etc etc etc etc etc etc etc!

Is this right? How do we know?

The thing with that is that we never know. One person will always say one thing, another will say another, the next a new thing; it's the same with churches. Churches, as much as they're meant to be holy, are just as unholy and flawed as any other institution because they are run and maintained by people-- people, yes, who (hopefully) have good intentions and mean better, but who are, nonetheless, mere mortals so flawed and tainted by a myriad of things. There is always a majority of the people who do things and say things and believe things one way, and as a member, many times, we feel the obligation moreso than the desire to do and say and believe and be just like them.

But why? Is it because we truly believe that is how life should be led, how we should serve, what we should believe? Or is it because we are told that that is how we should be? And if the answer is the former, then can we say for certain that it wasn't influenced by the latter? Just how much do we reflect on the reasons for which we are a certain way and the purposes behind which we do certain things? How often do we truly believe in our hearts that the majority way is our way? Or do we fool and guilt ourselves into thinking it because that is all we have ever learned or known? Because we feel sacrilegious or un-Christian or ungodly to even imagine doing something different? And if the last is so, then why do we feel this way? Is it a perpetuation of that natural human desire to stay with the majority? Is it due to our exposure to a certain culture, a way of life and thinking? Is it because we feel compelled to believe that the church is always right and we must always be led by it?

Why are we so afraid to be independent? True, independence and 'rebellion' have become, as of late, a trend in our society-- this desire to be different, the want to be unique, the fad to go against the grain, etc. Nevertheless, apart from all that, in solely a personal and religious context... Why are we always compelled to believe that there is only one way to go about things? How come we are so afraid to call out and disagree? And when we feel differently, why do we subsequently feel ashamed? Are we brought up to believe that disagreeing with the church is heresy? Perhaps.

We fail, a lot of times, to realize that being of the same religion does not necessitate being of the same opinions. We as Christians hold the same core of beliefs and the same goals but that does not mean that there will not be differences. In the end, only God knows, so for the moment, it would be nice if everyone stopped pushing their own dogmas and beliefs as the only truth, the only way, blah blah blah. And if we're different, so what? Who among us will dare to say that we are more Christian than another? More faithful, more holy, more touched by God? Who among us has the right to say that? No one.

Therefore, if you're different, go you. Don't be afraid to be who God made you to be.

And don't ever forget that the majority is not always right.

MJ

Michael Jackson died nearly a week ago and everyone still keeps talking about him. Why is there so much hubbub surrounding the death of this man? Yes, he was the King of Pop, yes, he was a celebrity, yes, he was a controversial international figure. But he was also just a man.

Thousands of people die everyday and do we even turn our head to even acknowledge their deaths? Do we pay this much attention to the old man across the street who dies from old age? Or the 12-year old girl who passes away in her hospital bed after 5 years of chemotherapy and countless surgeries?

No.

So, why him? Why any of these celebrities? Yes, they had fame, they had money, they had issues of their own--yet, minus the first (because even un-famous people have money), they're just people. Ordinary people who deserve some respect and privacy, even or perhaps especially, in death.

By wondering about these conspiracies, by trying to analyze their method of death, their intent-- maybe it was poison, or perhaps suicide, maybe it was malnutrition, etc etc-- who are we trying to satisfy? Are we seeking justice for the dead or just more fodder for our daily gossip? Who CARES that he never adopted his children, that he paid the surrogate mother, that he included or did not include certain people in his will, etc etc etc???

It sickens me that we, as a society, become so interested in a person only when that person holds some infamy (not even just fame, but infamy), when they hold some kind of perverse appeal to us. We don't ever move our focus to much more important, more deep issues, more people in need of aid and saving-- not unless it becomes a trend, the latest fashion in a tidal wave of "do good, feel good" campaigns. Unless it's celebritized, advertised, mediatized. Unless we make it into the latest form of start gossip.

It's no wonder that nonprofit organizations have such a hard time getting their concerns out, reaching out to the masses of people. When the masses refuse to even hear the tinkling of a bell unless it means some juicy gossip or some cheap thrills they can live vicariously through in their otherwise mundane lives, it's hard to connect the greater issues and causes to humankind. Simply put, they just don't care. Critics fault campaigns like the ones run by Benetton or Product (RED), but if commodifying the social matter is the only way to get across the poignant message in this capitalized, superficialized, and polemicized society, then why wouldn't these organizations turn their vigilant human rights endeavors into corporate, entrepreneurial efforts?

There is no denying that Michael Jackson was a legend. He still is, because his music surpasses even his mortal life. He died. His family, estranged or not, legally adopted or not, in his will or not, is most likely grieving a loss. His fans are grieving a loss. He was big-- national-- global. But he was still just a man. Who said death was the great equalizer? Throughout history, we have seen countless differences in the way society treats the deceased based on their ethnicities, socioeconomic statuses, genders, ages, etc. In the 21st century, this new millenium, death is as equal as it ever was. That is to say, not at all.

Idiot.

I was an idiot to have thought that anything had changed.

I'm still waiting on my 1 John 5:14, God.

Veux- tu dire que ce que je te demande n'est pas à ton désir? Qu'est-ce que c'est que tu désire? Plusieurs fois, sans arret, je te dis les mêmes choses, je te crie les mêmes mots de douleur, et...tu me donnes quoi? Rien? Non...j'attends toujours ton miracle, j'attends toujours ta promesse jusqu'au bout...même si je meurs sans l'avoir vu.

Deception.

God will change it,

or so they say.

It seems as if we’ve been waiting

forever

and

no change

has come to pass, no difference

is visible.

And the scars– Oh! the scars…

They still remain as bloody wounds,

the salt from the tears stinging

these long,

deep

stretches

of heartache

and sorrow

clear

across our chests– visible

only to those who look very closely, so very closely.

Only to those who know enough to see.

That is to say, no one.

Au moment où on pense que tout a changé, on se rend compte que rien n’a changé.