Mitch

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Justin [/i] [B]I find it utterly amazing how people will turn 'God' into whatever they want him to be. I've seen and read tons of different views on 'God' (all of which are described as being the true god the Bible describes) and each and every one takes the characteristics from the Bible that please them and mix them with characteristics from somewhere else. I'll put it to you like this: I don't know much, but one thing I do know is that the God of the Bible is as He is described in the Bible. No matter how I'd like Him to be, no matter how anyone would like Him to be, He is what He is. Now I'll get to my originally intended point: I don't know much about genetics, but I think it's safe to say that there's as much concrete evidence(if not more) to support my beliefs in the God of the Bible as there is to support that homosexuality is genetic. Take that as you will. NOW, I do have one more thing to present: (Don't you love colons?) I will go as far as to say that different people have different things that they like. Not just sexually speaking, mind you, but generally speaking. Like I may go for girls with blue eyes, but the guy next to me may like brown or green, to put it simply. I think the same very well applies to people with homosexual orientations. Now, if that's genetic somehow, then I'm willing to agree with James. Either way, people are going to have different beliefs. No one can expect to change those beliefs through an online forum. I don't expect my mini-sermon to impact anyone with an opposing opinion, and in that light, everyone should know that getting mad and going on a rant at someone's apparant idiocy probably won't greatly impact them either. Let's try to keep this topic mature as we can, so that more debates such as this one can be had. -Justin [/B][/QUOTE] [color=red] I'm not sure if this post was aimed at me, or just us all. But firstly, God can be whatever people see him as. Like you Justin, you see him purely as the one from the bible. I say more power to you, that's your right. But I on the other hand don't even know for sure if I do believe in God, and I certainly don't see him as he is explicitly shown in the bible. So I can have my opinion of God and so can you. Just respect that. As for the arguing, my last post was not aimed at arguing at all. I was just trying to force my opinion out as strongly as I possibly could, and it seemed that that was the most intense and strong approach for me. If your post wasn't specifically aimed at me, then I'm sorry, but I thought I needed to clarify my way of thinking to you.[/color]

[color=red] This thread is fully loaded with different opinions. I don't care if someone thinks being gay is wrong, I don't care if even God says it's wrong. There has to be something right about it. With every bad thing there's something good. So if you people here want to classify being gay as a totally wrong thing, it isn't. To me being gay is far from wrong, it is something that a person cannot even control; yet they are discriminated against for how they are by something they can't control. That is purely illogical reasoning, no matter how many billions of different ways you explain or describe why it's wrong. If it's wrong, why isn't there a choice? Most things that are wrong have a choice, an opposite. You either do the good thing or the bad. But with being gay, as James said, it is believed to be purely some form of the human genome--genetics. So how can you prejudice someone for something they can't control, that they can't help, and that they certainly can't let go and just leave so it's gone forever. How can you do that? There's not one thing wrong with being gay, at least to me. It's purely something that God, genes, whatever you want to give your source--it's something that's given, not chose. If you go as far to say being gay totally makes a person who they are, then there's also an error in your judgment there. Being gay doesn't make a person. Someone can be gay and completly be normal. Some of you here are being much too harsh. Gay people are people, too. They live, they eat, they breathe, they have feelings. Put yourself in their shoes, just try to imagine. And what if being heteorsexual was wrong? Would you sway and be gay just so you could live rightly in society, and not be discriminated? Would you just follow the flow just so [i]you[/i] aren't prejudiced, discriminated against? I'm sure some would. There's not [i]anything[/i] wrong with being gay. It's something that's uncontollable, and it doesn't change a person for who they are and what they live.[/color]

[color=red] I'm not doing anything for Valentine's Day. But tonight I'm going to try and write my parents some poems for it and some people here on OB if I get to it. But I don't know.[/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Rain [/i] [B][size=1]*tear* That is so beautiful. I wish I had a guy who'd write poetry for me.. ... ...... ......... :p Cute.. and funny ^_^[/size] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=red] Fine, Rain, I'll try and write you a poem. I don't even know you, but I'll try. It might be awhile though, because I'm not really in the mood for some sappy happy things. :)[/color]

[color=red] I'm all with what the 'sko man said. I'm getting sick of these fleshed-out, graphic-wonders. I'm not all too exicted about this FF, nor with FF online.[/color]

[color=red][size=1]Don't be surprised about how negative this poem is compared to the others I've been posting as of recent. This week hasn't been my week.[/size] [b][u]Walking Away[/b][/u] Standing here I wonder how I feel so drear Standing here My feet walk but I can't hear I've died standing here Watching as my hand Looking as the led falls Down. I walk my feet can't hear. Maybe it was I Out there just one star Trying to shine as my feet walked As my hands tried to feel Maybe it was I Walking now away here I touch the hard cement floor I see from nothing maybe gray Walking away I realize I'm living But I wonder why, I wonder why I've taken all the rays of yellow I can take I've tried to see something there in the future make Walking away I realize nothing's worth the time Walking I peer the familiar doors The familiar lighting and I walk away Maybe it was I but I'm falling somehow Dead like sunk maybe it was I My feet walk I can't hear My hands sway but frost is here I run my hands through my hair Wondering why anything matters Why I should even care Walking away is the easiest drought Letting it all fall seems right as I walk Away I walk but I tried to smile I was standing there and it was so hard I clank my feet as they try to hear I sigh it's all gone as I wish I could forget Feeting on my ground I stood so hard I tried to smile longer and now it's all gone Wish I could grab something so my feet would hear But I don't want love near Something's dead on the ground here Maybe it is I maybe it was I My hands move but they can't I tried to keep my hands strong guess I couldn't Wild dive what a gone cry Walking away don't try to stop me I'm alone I've always been so Walking away you love me when I'm gone But don't see the sun shine so wrong I wish I had something to feel I wish I had something to keep me gripped But my feet wander on his own And I'm dying as I'm dead from snow I'm living as I'm alive from stone Brushed and painted black as bone Walking away maybe it was I alone[/color]

[color=red] Stick with the banner you've got now, Aphy. The one you have now is neato. And the one you posted is kind of plain. It really doesn't catch my eye or keep me looking at it or anything. But it's probably better than anything I could do...[/color]:twitch:

[color=red][b][center]And All Because The Lady Loves Deus.[/b][/center] That was really...yeah. So here's your parking ticket? 100$? It says [center][b]Strong Enough for a Man, Made for a Mike Parked By Deus. 100 dollars.[/b][/center]...but wait, here in small print it says: [size=1][center][b]Hands That Do Dishes Can Be Soft As Your Mike Loves Danni, We Pass You This Time. [i]I Think, Therefore Don't Do It Again[/i]. Please Don't Squeeze The Cheerios. Don't Do It Again...[/center][/size][/b] [It was crazy, but I'll let it pass [i]this time[/i]][/color] [size=1]All quotes copyright The Slogan Name Generator, 2003.[/size] [color=silver] It sounds like a song, but I know it isn't. It was pure torture reading it as well, pure torture. The thing love does to people...I really am scared to let it happen to me...really am. :)[/color]

[color=red] It's pretty good. Short, sweet, succint. It stays with me like a ghost, and grows from the short end of the entirety of the poem into something more. It flows pretty well with the rhyming and all, and the shortness doesn't hurt it as in most cases it would. Good job. [i]More...more..more..[/i][/color]

[color=red] Inspiration for me comes as it comes, goes as it goes. One day I'll sit down and write away something just simply genious, aided by inspiration. Another, I'll sit down, and nothing will come, just the dull swish-swash of my pencil, or possibly the dull tack-tack if I were typing. Somedays I just can't write. Others I can. So inspiration is really hard to define into something more specific for me. I have my inspirations, but really, they all come as they go, and I let them go into a piece forever, or at least until it becomes forged into something different. So I can't tell you where my inspiration comes from exactly, but I'll try to give you some examples. Lots of inspirations come to me as I listen to some songs. The words in the songs I place in my mind, and it eventually will grow into something new, an inspiration. I might read something from a book, so an interesing quote that I like (Like Sara's lie one), and it'll just stick with me and scream to be written as a poem. Then there's the people in my life and even some I've met here on Otakuboards. Such as you Lalaith, Shy, Sara, Crazy White Boy--basically anyone here. I take their problems and I try to equate it with my feelings of the way it seems to me. Sometimes inspiration just comes out of nowhere, and [i]whack[/i], I've got something. Anything that bothers me, anything that I feel strongly about, those usually inspire me to some level. Raw emotions: Love, hate, apathy...all of it, that inspires. So it is really impossible to peg one thing, but I do get inspiration. At least I can say that.[/color]

[color=red] I didn't like that it was kind of...[i]unfocused[/i], yeah. But that's the way anarchy is, so I suppose that's the way the poem in turn decided to grow in your mind like. This poem is quite unique, I haven't read anything up to par with it in awhile, so it was a crazy, fast ride for me. But I didn't like those last three lines: [quote]X-mas time's a comin', Christmas time's a comin' Yo! Enough with the caroling! Zoom, zoom . . .[/quote] It seemed kind of out of nowhere for the context and the whole tone the poem had made up to that point. But, ah well, don't mind me there. So, all for all, it is a unique poem, weird in places, jumbled all about. But it wasn't too bad. 7.5/10. :)[/color]

[color=red][b][u]Rain Bird[/b][/u] The rain pours In stop it is falling After the rain Has poured blinded Into the side of the doors I take the sound of pat-pat And I wonder where In wetness the levee breaks And the door closes as The rain pours Looking to the clouds To the sound of whir-whir Where the rain wonders here And falls from the pasteled wind Blown wisps of heavy dew found In my hand I catch an after Drop of sweet rain that has Stopped falling Place it where the eyes Are tears and circles make What truths navigate the incline Drop you hand Bend it into the rain So you catch something And keep it wet forever yours Paint a cloud or two So the crayola with stencil And something is there for The rain to pat against while The sun melts away rained cloud The rain pours Save a droplet for The clouds to cry while I drop my hand From my window here I see dank and dark rain As fallen as gone is gone after Fallen it splats on my head And pats a pat against My window here I hear a rain bird tears As the rain winds down She sings a tune About visceral crudes Beautiful frozen buds of dew She sings a pat against my window Giving me a tempt to open And let her bless me with her sing Just for a moment, she encumbers me Asking, open up as she feels true My hand warms to her touch And I open just a crack, not too much Cupping my hand, I catch a decibel A keepsake for years after Time has come and Death is peered I keep her tear close To my ears and I Kiss her signing fallen As she still pats against My window here Tapping with here long Out-reached wet hand clear The rain stops pouring As dew melts and honey sours Becoming memory booming into Thundered drops of lighting Chained forgotten hear Everyday I sit on my window-sill I look out awhile wondering And waiting for the pat-pat Wondering when the clouds Will come when The rain will sing When she comes again I'll cup my hands in purse Take her warmth and kiss Her lava cheek's kiss Forgetting what she means As a drop that wetted and Painted with me something I'll never forget to see I know when the levee breaks As I shut my door I know where she sings Forgotten songs of evermore I've seen the levee break As I shut my door I know the rain She keeps me warm [/color]

[color=red]I treked away, reverting to my quicker Hedge cat form, holding the scroll between my tightly clasped teeth. After going a safe distance away, I nestled quietly inside a solemn ravine, reverting back. After drinking a few sips from the small stream emanating from the ravine, I placed the scroll in between my legs. I shut my eyes. The vision was instantaneous as it had been before, and just as jumbled. I tried to focus on one image of it, one piece, but I only succeeded in further distancing myself from concentration and answers. But how sharp all these images I had begun receiving in my meditations were. So sharp, so meaningful. And I knew it all had to do with the scroll here in my hands. It all was about the scroll, yet I had barely scratched it and deciphered it. I opened my eyes, taking a break. Meditation was becoming harder and harder everyday, but I knew I had to figure out what all these visions meant. I had to. Even though my head was pounding, my hands were shaking in bone-crunching melody, I had to. "I have to," I said, my voice echoing and prancing sullenly about the dull, quiet ravine. Then all I heard was the water trickling again. Silence. I shut my eyes again. I put my hands on my forehead, putting all of my integrity, every last retch and bone of my body into my thoughts, my motions, my essence. And then for a second, a brief and concise moment, there was something. A large crater, and then something else appeared, too. It looked something like a heart, but it wasn't. It appeared to have soot and lava upon it, while at the same time it appeared to have buds and branches, stems and boughs. I managed to hold the image a while longer, and somewhere far away I sensed myself shaking intensely as I put all of my will in staying focused on this one image. But that was when I heard a voice, a hushed, low, sly, voice, and I opened my eyes.[/color]

[color=red]...I'm sorry to say, but I can can't close this :cross:... I'm not all-powerful. My closing and such powers only go to the forum I moderate [Otaku Lounge] So...anyways, I don't like the poem. I don't even want to think all that much about war and all, so er, yeah. But the poem itself is crafty, I'll give you that ;)[/color]

[color=red] Sin wasn't [i]that[/i] hard. As long as you knew what you were doing and kept in-tune with the game throughout it all, it wasn't that hard. But I would say he's harder than Yunalesca, yes. Especially the last fight with Sin before you go inside of him was annoying, until I got holy on Auron, Yuna, and Lulu, then it was really easy. Just sit there and cast holy millions of times until he's in his grave. But yeah, I'd at least make sure you haven't a second grimance, and look at how well along your characters are on the Sphere Grid, what weapons they have, ect, ect. Holy--don't leave home with out 'er.[/color]

[color=red] As always, you show a nice talent. your poetry's enjambment (stopping in between lines onto another) really makes it feel like the poem is quite alive as it moves along. I like that, it makes it have a flow of its own and makes it seem sort of wandering and thought-moving and provoking. Also, you used lots of prepositions to begin new lines, which gave it a narrative, and, yet again, a moving feeling. Some substance. So I think this is now one my my favorite works of yours, and I hope to see more.[/color]

[color=red] Expect me to post tomorrow. Just thought I'd strain some of your anxiousness :) I'll either edit this post, or post again, depending on if another has posted. So yeah.[/color]

[color=red][size=1] No problem Juu, and I have another. This one's for Shy...[/size] [b][u]On An Island There The Words Will Come To You[/b][/u] On an island there In the broad, sun-lit horizon We'll walk in the sand together; Never feel bad anymore. We'll feel the grains tickle our feet In the ocean, the golden sun will Drift in an endless ray of light; You'll never feel sad anymore. You and I will drift together We'll feel the wake in and out As everything becomes gone memories; And I want us to feel it, too. It'll be a place to call our own Where the grass is ours to blow And the water's all we'll see together; Never letting anything hurt anymore. We can't find any words to say Everything's wrong to the world's gain As we drift away. On an island there We'll never need any memories. Here the world is gone On an island we'll find words To say. Here on the island We'll drift our own. On the island there We'll never forget the Waves that brought us wonder; We'll never feel the pain as we drift alone. You can't find any words to say The world won't let you live the words; It won't let yourself be what you be I want to help see the words called your own. Here on the island We'll laugh, spend some time Where we'll hear the words spoken forever; We'll never feel bad anymore. The waterfall will flow Sparkling water will speak Your way As the island Rivers us time forever. Someday, that island there It'll be our haven to stay And we'll never care About what never mattered back then Anymore; We'll forget the past. When we're drifting our way To the island there You'll aid my way And I'll help the words say. When the island comes We'll remember forever And you'll never feel bad anymore Even as the island sinks ashore. Even as everything falls apart You'll find those words to say; It'll all come to you Everything will glow in the sand true. The breeze will blow through our hair; The sun will shine on something great for share And on the island there You'll find the words to say. The water will be clear; Your ears and mouth will hear; And you'll find the words to say On the island there.[/color]

[color=red] Thank you very much, Shy, I'll take all you've said when I rework the entire thing. I guess I do have a habit of using really long sentences, and that's something I'll have to learn to grow out of. Once I get the final version, I'll certainly be posting it. Thanks again, Shy. This all you've said is really going to help me.[/color]

[color=red] Much better this time 'round. All though it still is a little tad too short for my liking, and could've been a tad bit deeper, this isn't that bad. 7/10. ;)[/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by MathGuy2 [/i] [B]H? That 5050 problem should be famous to everyone with any more interest in math than enough to pass the class. If I remember correctly, [font=Symbol,Greek]S[/font]k=1,n = n(n+1)/2 - that was in my geometry book. Juuthena, you mentioned that the math teacher wanted, in effect, 100! (100 factorial [product of 1 through 100])? That would be on the order of, oh, estimating as 5!(10^10)...(90^10)(100^5), approximately...3*10^147 in scientific notation. almost 150 decimal places. I used pencil and paper and a four-function calculator. Tell that to your teacher. Er, sorry about that. Here's one for your math teacher: Prove this limerick. "Integral z-squared dz / From one to the cube root of three / Times the cosine / Of three pi over nine / Equals log* of the cube root of e." *The natural log, "ln". He/she'll only be able to do it if he/she knows (and more importantly, remembers) calculus. On to something more interesting: this is my math teacher. (On a .[/size] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=red] Uh...erm. I didn't understand [i]anything[/i] you said up above, lol. I feel dazzled. And I feel...somewhat over-blown in my mind. :cross: [/color]

[color=red][size=1] This one I had to write for Journalism I. It's only a rough, and I'm going to rework it for certain, but here she is:[/size] I hated it then. I hate it now. But back then, it was different. It was a different kind of hate. One that seemed half full of fear, half full of something else. Half nervousness, half just a wish I didn't have to take it. And this was the time, for better or for worse. For greater or for latter. This was the time I would take it, even though I didn't want to. After he had checked the turn signals and made sure everything was in good working order, the driving instructor and I entered my grandpa's van. We began. I started the ignition, but it was so far away. Everything felt so far away. The only thing that I heard or saw, the only thing I felt or faced was a fear all around me. Even as the engine roared to life, as I moved from P to D, I seemingly only felt nervous, and purely, utterly, and wholly a persevering affliction of a try at concentration. I footed the accelerator, and we skirted off, a shadowy silhouette upon the lightly snow-covered ground. The instructor asked me a few random questions: What school do you go to? Are you in any sports? What grade are you in? How old are you? Do you like it here? And I answered each, each time wishing he would be quiet, even though I knew he was just trying to calm me. We drove for awhile, him telling me where to turn, I keeping my concentration as saturated as I could. Finally, after what seemed like a painfully long and tiring wait, I finally came to the part of the test which I was most unsure about, most scared about. "Parallel park right between those two cars there," he said, pointing. My heart escaped somewhere into the trenches of some lost tomb as I pulled a few inches ahead of the frontal car next to the gap. I moved the transmission to R, turned my wheels, turned my head, and backed in, hoping and wondering at the same time how well I would do. To my acute surprise, I didn't do bad at all, and I did it all perfectly. Glad that the worse part for me was over, I felt easier, a divine sense of satisfaction and relief, like I could do anything. I pulled away, leaving the space between the two cars empty once again, and came to a stop sign. I put my left blinker on quickly, and glanced left and right, checking for any cars. None. I then pushed the accelerator, and watched blandly and blankly as the van's tires slid in a stall on the snow, slowly and painfully, the van stood, momentarily stuck. I floored the accelerator and finally got over the snow. Embarrassed, I continued to try and act cool, not wanting to feel completely stupid and crushed. I drove on, finally returning back to where I had left. It felt so good to be done, like a heavy and beating weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Turning off the ignition, I turned to the instructor, waiting for him to give me the one thing that mattered then. He let out a small smile. "Mitchell, you passed." [/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by BabyGirl [/i] [B][color=deeppink]. Yeah, that really gets to me...I wish some non-smokers could just relax about it [though most of them are cool with it]. We just don't all need to be preached to ;) As I continue rambling, I think it also really depends on age. So many of the younger members here are SO against "bad" things like driking and smoking, which, admittably, is a good thing if you have the willpower to never do those things. However, you don't need to think that you're going to be damned for all time if you try it once. Maybe it just makes me feel ridiculously old [even though I'm not!] when I talk about the things I do and everyone else comdemns them :shifty: Blah blah blah, I think I've said enough for now ^_^[/color] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=red] I condemn no one for smoking. It's just that I really hate to think where they might end up in life. Every cigarette smoked is life shortend, life that that person deserves [i]gone[/i] forever and ever. For never to return, each cigarette takes that, as you fully aware take it. My Mom smokes. My great-grandma used to smoke. My Grandpa used to smoke. So many people in my life have smoked. Everyday I tell my Mom, I ask her, I flat-out tell her she needs to stop smoking, because I'm going to hate seeing her when I'm older hooked up to oxygen, breathing heavily, all because of smoking. I also cannot stand it when my Mom smokes in the same place I am. I literally hold my breath and hastily leave when she's smoking. I [i]hate[/i] second hand smoke. My great-grandma's already sitting in a nursing home, hooked up to an oxygen tank because of what she did in the past. What she let cigarettes take from her, what she let all smoke away forever. My great-grandma's pretty much a shut-in now, but my family and I try to see her everytime we're up there, and tell her she's a good person, that she's still beautiful. But looking at her, it really dawns on me how much I really want my Mom just to [i]stop[/i]. Just stop. But I can't force her to stop, I can't help her unless she makes the decision herself. Unless she takes the prerogative and takes a step forward, with her mind turned the right way, and herself thought out and found. It's only her that can make that change. Not me. No one. So all I can do is tell my Mom to stop, and hope she takes it true someday. I can't possibly imagine how hard it would be to quit, but if someone else's done it, then it can be done. So on the subject of cigarettes, I hate them. [i]Loate[/i] them. They are such pointless things. All they are good for is tying someone into a rancid, cold, absolutely life-robbing death. But for those who smoke, I see it as something that will hopefully change. And I see that they have a right to do what they want with themselves. So good for them. As long as they know what they're doing.[/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Etarah's Maverick [/i] [B][color=teal]And guess what. I don't care! too many goddamn times have I stuck my *** into a bad situation, only to get either the crap beaten out of me, or the piss out of me. Then, when I turn to writing down my feelings, the very things that create ALL of my goddamn poems, I get criticized. Well, it's a double-edged sword, i guess. Thanks for the...er....CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.[/color] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=red] You made a bad poem. So what? So have I... At least I'm truthful, and I gave reasons. I could've said nothing, and just said it was horrible. As I said, it is short, and you could've gone deeper, used some symbols to portray what you were trying to say, gone deeper into it, and made more descriptive words... Bleh. And you are welcome for the [i]constructive crit[/i], man. :p[/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Semjaza Azazel [/i] [B]If anyone said or spelled out lol in person, I'd probably punch them in the face. [/B][/QUOTE] [color=red] [b][i]lol[/i][/b], my thoughts exactly. No, I never really hear internet lingo being spoken other than on the 'net. I know, I get out so much.[/color]