I totally rock!

You have your orders!  Rock out!

Rock out like you finally worked up the courage to ask the girl of your dreams on a date, and she said sure.  Rock out like after that date, she told you she likes you, and kissed you.

Rock out like you scored the game winning points of the Super Bowl.  Rock out like the wood just got polished.  Rock out like the biggest wave just crashed into you, and you stood stock still.

Rock out like you found out you are accepted for who you are.  Rock out like you just prevented a major war with a few words.  Rock out like the earth is slowly burning.

Rock out like no one is judging what you do.  Rock out like you just figured out women, the universal mystery.  Rock out like you got a 4.0.  Rock out like you got promoted.

Rock out like you got a raise.  Rock out like you just prevented someone close to you from commiting suicide.  Rock out like you found 2pak, John Lennon, Micheal Jackson and Sasquatch in a small cave in Croatia.

Rock out like you just got married.  Rock out like you just one a tough case.  Rock out like your song just hit platinum.  Rock out like your song is top 100 for a decade.

Rock out like you got into college.  Rock out like your college won the National Championship in every sport.  Rock out like Titanic was sinking under your feet, but you escaped with your life and a valuable artifact.

Rock out like you made Broadway.  Rock out like you died, but you knew eternal paradise was waiting for you.  Rock out like you just ran out of oatmeal, but you still have Fruit Loops.

Rock out like your allergic to fruit, but you eat it anyway.

Rock out like you're Chase Hansen.

You're afraid of what?!

I'm afraid of strippers: Toplessophobia.

I'm afraid of devils: Lucifamichaphobia.

I'm afraid of Hitler: Blitzkreigaphobia.

I'm afraid of tubs of pudding: Toomuchgoodnessaphobia.

I'm afraid of people who are afraid: Phobophobophobia.

I'm afraid of Red Stripe Beer: Bootoomuchofagoodthingophobia.

I'm afraid of leaving a cord over a heating vent: Nastyplasticsmellophobia.

I'm afraid of nice men in suits: Insaneasylumaphobophobia.

I'm afraid of Victoria's Secret: Hothothothothothotimmodestophobia.

I'm afraid of blogging: Alpiniandaimyodotblogspotdotcomophobia.

I'm afraid of Mr. Nelson: Goodenglishteacherophobia.

I'm afraid of second-to-the-left marble pillars: Beautifulstonophobia.

I'm afraid of blue night lights: Creepyglointhedarknessaphobia.

I'm afraid of bishop's daughters feeling uncomfortable around me: Allysmootophobia.
Not really.
Faroffbogeyphobia-The fear that somewhere, in private, someone just picked their nose.
Katanasofdeathophobia-The fear of samurai or ninja swords.
Nobunagaodaphobia-The fear of suicidal Japanese rulers of the Sengoku era.
Hideyoshitoyotomiophobia-The fear of suicidal Japanese rulers of the Sengoku era's loyal retainers.
Gunsnrollingstonophobia-The fear of overrated, overplayed rock bands.
Nuclearphobia-The fear that WWIII will happen with the accidental press of a button.
Xenonophobia-The fear of stupid Disney Channel Movies.
Somethingwickedthiswaycomesophobia-The fear of Shakespeare.
Virginophobia-The fear that someone slipped alcohol into your beverage without you knowing.
Introofdarknessthenrednessthenwhitenessboopophobia-The fear of Toby Turner or Tobuscus.
Hackophobia-The fear that a hairball the size of a tennis ball will land on your head when you step outside.
Beastophobia-The fear that you will never be loved because you are hairy.
Blankophobia-The fear of not knowing what to write.

Life is afraid of Death, Death is afraid of Fear, and Fear is Unafraid

I sit inside a boat.  The boat creaks and groans with each wave that hits it.  I look at the river I'm on.  It is glowing unnaturally, and it looks like molten silver.  I look around, seeing nothing else but darkness.  The boat travels on.

I've been traveling for thousands of years, or maybe a few seconds.  A chill runs down my spine.  I realise that I hear whispering.  It is faint, but it is there.  I again look around, hoping to see something.

The faint whisper stops.  I shiver again.  I search the darkness and make out a distant shoreline.  I see blurred dots moving around.  I will the boat to get closer.  I look on the other side of the boat.  There, I see another shore.

Gradually, the shoreline closes in so the river is much thinner.  I see wigwams made out of bones.  Sad little huts, with no windows and no inhabitants.  Or so I thought.

I jump as I hear loud moans and groans.  I whirl around, searching for the source.  Ghostly figures appear out of the huts.  They aren't creepy, they just look like shimmering forms of real humans.  I recognize no one.

They stop groaning and look at me.  My shivers disappear and I'm filled with an odd warmth.  They don't seem scary at all.  I look forward, tearing my eyes away from the shore.  I jump, though not nearly as scared as I used to be.

Standing in front of me is a woman.  Her form changes, reflecting the women I thought most beautiful.  My first thought is 'This is Aphrodite.'  I quickly shake that notion from my head.  I'm dead, and Aphrodite isn't real.

This woman is on the front of the boat, and I start to stand from the bench I'm sitting on.  She advances, shaking her head softly, and fixes me with a look I hadn't seen for a while: attraction.  She is wearing a beautiful golden dress, and my eyes water when I look directly at it.

I can't take my eyes from her face, her features, and her dress.  She again starts forward, and my eyes follow her.  She sits down next to me on the bench, and I can't stop staring.  I have an urge to do something impressive, maybe sing to her or demonstrate physical strength.  I don't feel like that would be enough.

As if she could read my mind, she says "There is no need."  Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, "What is your name?"  I realise my throat is parched.  I gag for a few seconds, then finally choke out my answer.  She laughs, a joyful, warm sound.  I feel as though I swallowed a warm cinnamon roll, or as though I stepped in the hot tub.  It is the greatest sound I have heard while on this boat.

She asks me more questions.  I can't answer.  I feel something wet hit my arm.  I immediately close my mouth, and she laughs again.  As though from nowhere she pulls out a crystal goblet, and pushes it gently into my hand.  I drink, and drink, and drink.  I drain it in a few gulps.  It tastes like horchata, like chocolate shakes, like Kool-Aid, like Crystal Lite, like all my favorite drinks.

She laughs a third time, and I think she must be crazy.  No human ever laughed at me like that.  She puts her hand on my face.  Warmth spreads throughout my body yet again.  Her hand is like the softest fur.  She gently turns my head to face her.  She has somehow gotten more beautiful since I last looked.

She scoots closer, and I lean back slightly, not sure what she's doing.  She asks what my death felt like, what fears I had, and what I liked most about life.  I told her that so far, death was more wicked than my life, if this was death.  Her eyes twinkled.

She scooted closer, once again.  Her hand was still on my cheek, but I felt her other hand gently grasp mine.  She scoots very close, and I can count all of her long, dark eyelashes.  Her eyes change color slightly, and she is almost nose to nose with me.  She leans the last bit and her lips brush up against mine.

Feathers.  Fur.  Anything soft, I swear her lips were softer.  Her eyes were closed, mine open.  I could smell each sweet smell emanating from her.  She was the human form of sweet, of soft.  I closed my eyes, and slipped away.

I wake up, and see silver directly above me.  I realise I'm drowning.  I can't breathe.  I can't understand whether I was dying while in the boat or whether that was real.  I couldn't remember anything but the lady.  I couldn't remember anything more.  I screamed with the last breath I had, realizing nightmares had come true.

Highway to . . .

I walk A L O N E.

It is such a sweltering, humid day.  This must be Las Vegas with humidity.  I'm drenched in sweat.  People pop up in front of me as I walk.  They all talk with their spouses and children.  They laugh, enjoying one another's company.  The spouses kiss.

I walk A L O N E.

I see old high school students I used to know.  They, too, laugh with boy/girlfriends.  I never had one.  I walk alone.  I walk past an abandoned skyscraper.  Pale leaves rustle past, pushed by the slight gale that springs up.  The sun shines harshly, yet goose bumps arise on my bare arms and legs.  I sweat more.  It freezes on my face, stinging me.

I walk A L O N E.

I realize the pale leaves are pages from a book I never wrote.  A book I never published.  A book that was just a fragment of the imagination, but was then ripped to shreds by reality.  As I realise this, I realise that I am again alone.

I WALK A L O N E.

A mountain rises up in front of me.  It, too, is pale and oddly shaped.  It is a mountain of books. I see broken cameras and other electronic devices mixed among the books like trees and shrubs.  When I realise this, the mountain ignites.

I lope through the mountan of burning books and knick-knacks, fearing the flames.  I feel the intense heat, but I don't burn.  The flames lick my body, warming me, yet the breeze still keeps me chilly.  Sweat drips off my shivering, shaking body.

I walk A L O N E.

I'm on the other side of the mountain.  Wails of misery and tortured screams carry to my ears, causing me to jump.  I see whole armies being massacred, murdered, shot, blown up, and crushed.  I hear the pitiful howls from the families of those soldiers' families.  I see the newly parentless children crying.  I see the newly widowed husbands and wives, howling with their families, begging for another day with their spouse alive.

I walk A L O N E.

I see orphaned children hiding, too scared to even cry, for fear they, too, will meet the same fate as parents, friends, brothers and sisters.

As I walk alone, I too, cry.  At last, I come to the end of my road, where I see a golden bowl full of water.  I try to take a drink, and it evaporates.  I look in the bowl.  The water reappears.  I look at my reflection.  All I see is a dirty, grubby, despised man.  There is anguish and greed carved into the features of his face.

I look into the sky, sensing the sun being completely covered by more than a cloud.  All is dark.  From behind me, I sense a presence.  I turn, and see a light.  A light brighter than the sun.  I see it, then my eyes close, and I am senseless.

I'm thinking. . .

I'm thinking about you.
I'm thinking about like dust thinks about the wind.
I'm thinking about you like L O N E L Y P E O P L E think about other people.
I'm thinking about you like DEPRESSION thinks about SUICIDE.
I'm thinking about you like ham thinks about cheese.
I'm thinking about you like eVaNgElIsTs think about preaching.
I'm thinking about you like Styx think about sailing AWAY.

What is LOVE?

Well, for my first answer, I'd say love is a chemically hightened emotional feeling for someone.  But, science would say it's more like this: A thought your brain is sent from your heart, triggered by endorphins.  Musicians, however, would say many different things.  What is love? Love is a drug.  It is a feeling that your heart decides to make without the brain's knowledge.  It is a feeling of longing, of happiness, of faith, of virtue, of mercy, of charity, or of kindness.  True love is what keeps two unlikely individuals together, it is something which burns even when all other emotions have gone.  Love is a light that wants you to go, but when you try, the bulb dies.  Love is something a monkey thinks is a fairytale.  But, when you see that one person's face, that whole idea of love is changed.  Love is a sacred pact, which can be for family members and friends, and especially spouses.  I think, last of all, that someone who feels love can never feel as much despair as those who don't feel love.  Please, remember to love.  It is essential to life.