Empty, Yet Colorful Void

Oh crap. This is not good. I'm already running out of ideas for posts! It's only been like two and a half weeks, and I'm already hitting the infamous writer's block. How can I even hope to succeed in continuing this blog. I was naive to think I could find some philosophical inspiration every day of my life. Nothing interesting happened to me today. I should have looked for inspiration. I should have gone to a reflecting pond, a graveyard, the roof of a building, something! Maybe I have to search for the meaning of life, instead of waiting for it. But how will I know if I've really found it. I may falsely convince myself of finding it, when I really just want to believe I have. Shouldn't true inspiration be natural, anyway? Is it wrong to read into every little tea leaf in our lives? Is it just human nature to believe in a larger significance, or are people truly called by divine forces to be inspired. Is it inappropriate and immature to pose questions on these kinds of blog posts? Probably. But I think if one can find inspiration within a lack of inspiration, anything may be possible.

Notice

Failure is awesome. In 1968, a chemist named Spencer Silver developed one of the most ineffective pressure sensitive adhesives possible. The glue was so terrible that it could not even hold two light objects together for even a short stretch of time. It wasn't until a decade later, when the adhesive was combined with a small piece of paper, that Spencer's product was transformed into what still today remains as one of the most common and almost iconic modern office supplies. Of course, not all failures are like that. But the point is that success is spontaneous and impossible to anticipate. Failure, however, can always be expected. The only way one can respond to it is to embrace it. When I say "embrace it", I mean love the crap out of it. Building a list of personal fails can increase the glow of one's success. It shows that one persevered and continued to try again and again and again and again and again and again and again despite their trials until they finally deserved the sweet victory they received. Everyone's time (success) will eventually come. But the farther you run, the better the ice-cream tastes at the finish line.

Professional-Crastinator

Simplicity is one of the best ways to justify an insufficient quantity.

Empty Soup Cans

I'm always amused by the endings of those romantic movies where the couples get married and the final shot is their car driving off into the sunset. The cliche, itself, has become a cliche. I've often wondered what I would see if the film was stretched just a few minuets longer, revealing what happens to the couple as they drive away. Did no one remember that the sun, though setting, is very bright and often considered a pain to drive straight into? How does the groom see where he's going when he's blinded? Even more unsettling then the previous notion, does the couple actually know where their going? If they're driving into the sun-set, that means they have to be heading west, which, in America at least, is never a good idea. Maybe they just keep going until they run out of gas and walk to the nearest hotel (which can easily be the exposition to a horror film). Regardless of where they're going, I also wonder what the new couple talk about to pass the boring time. It seems like it would be almost awkward:
"So.... I guess we're married now!"
"Yeah.... Cool."
I'm sure the experience is wonderful in reality, but when my day comes, we're playing Eye Spy.

All You Can't Eat

Nothing is more respected then when it is gone. At funerals, people declare positive, complimentary things about the newly deceased. These things would never have been stated during the individual's lifetime. It's only after death, that one's friends show appreciation, long after it's needed. Using this concept, I was able to develop an imaginary restaurant that, if one day were to exist, would no doubt be able to pledge a 100% guarantee that the customer's meal would be the greatest meal he or she'd ever dine. The concept is fairly simple. The restaurant, after a long session of paper-work, would confine the voluntary customer within a very small, silent, and solitary cell. The customer would be given no sustenance for five days, and would be subject to torture each day. At the end of the five days, the customer would be taken to the elegant dinning quarters and receive the largest amount of the highest quality of food. Around three customers could be admitted and served simultaneously each day. Admission would cost around $700 and kitchen staff would only have to fix three large meals a day. There would, of course, be a large number of violations against the law (hence why such a place doesn't exist), but the idea is pretty realistic. We often eat large hamburgers that hold no significance to our lives, but if some had not tasted such a construction of flavor nor had anything fall into their hollow stomachs for a week, that Happy Meal is looked upon, for the first time, with furious lust... For here or to go?

It's a Reasonably Distant Shot

People often take for granted how even the strangest concepts are socially accepted because of their inexplicable popularity. In Vienna, 1927, a confectioner named Eduard Haas III invents a peppermint candy that he distributes in small dispensers that resemble cigarette lighters. In 1955 the US company that gained control of the product, markets the candy to children, and places heads atop of the dispensers to make them more friendly. 11 years later, Joann Ganz Cooney and Lloyd Morrisett agree to develop a children's educational television program about several mutant creatures including a large bird and a pessimistic trash dweller living in an urban environment. 17 years later, a Japanese video game designer, named Shigeru Miyamoto, working at a mainstream arcade company in Kyoto, pitches an idea for a new arcade game that follows two Italian-American plumbers who navigate the sewers and kill turtles as they do so. Never ever restrain your imagination. I don't tend to be so straight forward, but this message calls for it. People who come up with the hair-brained schemes are the ones who leave footprints in history. Just like the guy who came up with the expression "hair-brained"... That just doesn't even make any sense.

Lonely Hearts Club Band

A very unique caterpillar with orange coloring and seemingly extraneous antennas was stalking me today. I know it's more practical to assume that I just saw different caterpillars of the same species, but this one was so specific in its detail that it would be less practical to assume this particular physical appearance of a caterpillar was so frequently seen in a single area. I found it interesting how it moved so slowly across the concrete, yet it reached its destination long before I'll ever reach mine. Caterpillars spend all day moving forward while most people run around in circles. In this way,we're more like hamsters in a wheel. I wonder if hamsters believe they're going somewhere when they run inside those contraptions. Do people go anywhere when they run? Most like to believe so. But even I feel the sudden chill that all the days of my life are just extensive repetition. I have no idea where I'm going. And if I knew, I may not want to go there anyways. But a hamster doesn't stop, so nor do I. That caterpillar may one day become a surgeon or a member of the Peace Corps. Maybe we should be inspired by the slow moving creatures to take a step off our treadmills, and walk into the future.