More lost notes.

I found another crinkled piece of paper in my room, dated 4/11/07. I would have been 15. It reads:

Scribbling notes right now. Write now. Inspiration? I'll think of that later. I was wasting my time earlier, so I left for this. I'm thinking regardless. I need beautiful sounding words. And I used to walk like a sage. I felt elevated. Now I feel frustrated. Consumed in my rage. Consolation brings relief, and makes me smile. Am I incapable for some or is it just my sound? I need beautiful sounding words. Abandonment gave me this setting. Inspiration came and works through me, pulsing. Seeing familiar traits. Circles, rings, other round things. Halos turn to spirals. Direction unknown. Where are we going? With this. Sing to me in simplicity, affect with driving strength. Act out descriptions or move on your own. Fantasizing. Dreams are enticing. Excitement is rising. Calm down. Keep to yourself. It's too meaningless to settle. Act on impulse, but fight for the worthy. Internally organs beat with a fury, the outside is still. Once the movement was of a sage. Explanations of events suggest otherwise. Convinced, a new role is assumed. That was me. Now this is me. Everything close. Everything near.

Solidifying Insecurity into a Personality

His sense disappeared
A lost line inside himself
Scarred by the failure

Taken on a ride
Mutual, we're alibis
Memories that fade

Left for one to choose
And trapped in indecision
Hopelessly impaired

Clean an empty house
The past has been set in stone
Nervous gestures made

So much left to say
Waiting for the perfect day
Without Confusion

Written 10-23-07

A name

I am not particularly attached to my name. At least I do not delight in the way that it sounds when spoken aloud, or feel pride in the familial implications of the surname. However, I am at times fascinated by the idea that within a name, one possesses the representation of his identity in its purest form. Once a person becomes classified by his activities, such as the job he has, or by his features, say, by having a wide face or an athletic physique, he loses the individuality he began with and becomes a mere comparative example to people who possess similar qualities. A name represents purity—the purity of the individual. My name is Ian Thomas Lynch, and though I may not be the only person to bear this name, it still serves as a referral to my unique identity when applied in the right context, and from there, one is free to hold his own ideas of what it represents. And though it is my mission to define my name so that it becomes the most accurate representation of my identity, I refuse to embrace vague descriptions that attempt to diminish the true associations one makes when regarding my name. So when contemplating such matters as my purpose in life and what it is for me to do in order to achieve self-fulfillment and satisfaction, I often like to consider who it is exactly that will be making that action, and who will be affecting the future.

"The Windowsill" August, 7, 2008

And I fly,
The bird in the air,
There’s wind in my hair.
And through all, make haste, travel,
To those of whom you care.

There’s pain in my chest.
This city offers no consolation.
This cell provides no comfort.
If I’m not longing to be there,
I’m longing for them to be here,
Or everywhere at the same time.
“Only in dreams you see what it means”1

And I’m a sight to behold.
Though sleeping awake, I am unaware,
Or was unaware, till reality called me back.
And I see now how dreams are the escape,
The sedative, the tranquilizer,
The soft luminescence I choose to admire.

Our love, our love that transpired,
A longer duration I have left to squire,
Of youth, home, and family all quickly dissolving,
My ties to things past force me to acknowledge,
Their brevity, their dependence to that fugitive dimension,
Perpetually abandoned to life beyond apprehension,
Yet in vain do I struggle to conceive my future,
Against fate my will yearns to mold this new creature,
To a form I can recognize and proudly proclaim
It’s this I envisioned whilst alone those summer days.

1 Rivers Cuomo

Lamentation, Inspiration, avoiding only Condescension

Curse the obligations and curse the indulgences.
I miss you dearly, introspection,
But I have not the time nor the peace of mind,
To welcome you back into my life.

I miss you, too, misinterpreted confusion.
Thought to be angst,
Thought to be inexperience,
Words failed me, and I could not defend you.

I miss you most, love of life, purest life.
Appreciation of the ambient pleasures,
Directing me inward, and above.
Replaced by community attractions,
A lifestyle of distraction.

Suffered the fall,
Engaged in the struggle for security--by insecurity.
Return to me now.
I will not abandon you again.

Declaration of a Recluse

The light may filter through here
But the sound is kept out.
I create that here.
I create the wind that circulates,
It's all that remains when I meditate.
Then I open my eyes to darkness
Commend the light for feebly filtering through.
It will never find a home where I am
And I don't need it to know that I am in the center.
I am the God of this universe.
I am all that shines in this place.

Germany

So I relocated to Berlin, Germany. I just flew in today. I've never actually been to Europe before. Some of my initial observations are for one, that the people are pretty beautiful in general. I was pretty surprised. Also, the people here seem pretty confused about what language to speak in at any given time. Like, I would imagine that no matter how many languages you speak, there would still be that one base language. I don't know about that here, though. I sat in at a lunch in a Mexican restaurant and the people I was sitting with kept switching between English to German to Spanish and my one tour guide said his native language was Hebrew, though I didn't hear any of that. I'm ashamed. All I know how to say is la' chaim, or however that's spelled, and my German's not much better. I sigh when I think about how I took four years of Spanish to just come to a country where everybody speaks fluent English as a second language. Anyway, I'm going to check out the night life in about a couple hours as I'm 6 hours ahead of Eastern US time. I've got a bike to ride and I'm going to be working at a construction site for 10 euros an hour--pretty insane if you ask me. Anyway, I'm a little jetlagged so I'll be taking a nap at this point. Tchus.