Advisory: I sort of choke and swallow hard before posting an article like this on the eye of paradox, in spite of the fact that I have a history of being rather candid about my experiences as a “transgendered” individual here and on deviantart. I know that many of these posts have the potential to hurt me,...
Writing is the embodiment of aspiration. It begins with the will to overcome the unanswerable statement of a blank page. It proceeds in the blind ambition of being read and comprehended. It strives to commit to a more permanent memory the thoughts and ideas of the writer. As often as not, the written word is as quirky...
I am well acquainted with the depths of despair; that place where words hurt in every way and never more than when they give the faintest glimmer of the only thing that could possibly be worse than despair: Hope. Hope makes you drag yourself through the hell you’re trapped in when you’re so broken it’s a miracle you...
My eyes opened and this is what I saw. You can in yourself be anything you desire. You create yourself from a point. You define your own existence. A soul defines itself. What words cannot define, they can characterize, so that the truth may be recognized as it is encountered. The existence of a soul is absolute, at...
“A story is as good a way to organize your thoughts as anything else,” she points out, poised in the shadows in the doorway. I quickly conclude that she is playing the part of my conscience. That, or devil’s advocate. Either way, she’s me. I cannot say she does not really exist without implying the same of myself. She...
Who am I? Why am I here? What is the point of my existence? These are questions we all ask at some point in our lives, and we can go our entire lives without knowing the answer. I suspect that a lot of people try to avoid thinking about it, not knowing how to begin answering, and I wonder how long a person can go...
I do not often get comments on my blog; if I exclude the pingbacks, spam and my own replies, I’ve received twenty-two comments from ten different individuals since I started the eye of paradox two years ago. Four of those people have identified themselves as transgendered, and like every transgendered person I’ve...
On April 27, 2008 at 12:36 am, I began a post—this post, actually—but got no further than the title. I don’t know if that was because that title summed up my feelings so well that there was no point to writing any further about what was on my mind. Yesterday, those words came back to me at the conclusion of A Glimpse...
On any given day, a small handful of people find their way to the eye of paradox. Some of them probably just glance at an article to see if it’s relevant to the search that brought them here. One or two might actually read something. Once in a blue moon, someone leaves a short comment. Taken all together, I do not see...
I rarely have time to write or draw, and as my friend keeps reminding me, I’ve little hope making a living as an artist or writer. I have to agree, knowing that even brilliant writing and art takes a massive investment of time and effort up front. That seems to be a recurring theme in my life, however. I have never...
A person looking at my blog might get the impression that I do not get much writing done, and it is true that there are a lot of things in my life that get in the way of me writing most of the things I want to. The inside dope is that much of what I do write, I am not sure I want to share. Does anyone not afflicted...
The best representation of a thing is the thing itself and yet there are things that we experience great difficulty recognizing in their true form. The truth is one of those things. In speaking of the truth, what we have is a word—and as a representation of a thing, a word provides a label for a concept that is...