Sunday, October 25, 2015

Is people watching ethical?

This semester I have the great fortune of taking an ethics course from one of my favorite professors (and, really, people as well). A few weeks ago, we slowly started to dissect the origins and basics for various theories and we came across a certain predicament within hedonistic utilitarianism. Here, the theory states that happiness reins all and that we should maximize it no matter the costs.

As a starting point, I seemed to agree. I like happiness. I think I should be happy. I think you should be happy. Heck, I even think my obnoxious neighbor with the booming Arabian dubstep should be happy (and, yes, as I found out that is a thing). But, does a line exist? My professor brought up the shower scenario. Say that I, in all of my true-to-form glory, step out of the shower in my apartment. My neighbor (not the one with the dubstep) sees this event and continues to watch for they are gaining pleasure. From this, the hedonist would say that the neighbor’s action is morally sound because he gains pleasure and there is no adverse effect on myself. However, that makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Something doesn’t sit right.


Then, I applied this to one of my favorite past times: people watching. Here, I am gaining pleasure from analyzing the unsuspecting victims around me and they receive no adverse effects. This is oddly similar to the shower situation, yet so many of us still do this. Granted, we could take this to the extreme and say that the effects rise when stereotypes sneak into society, but let’s not go there. So, now, I am dumbfounded. Is it unethical to people watch? Should I end one of my favorite time killers? What shall I do?

Saturday, September 5, 2015

The Beauty in Everything

A few weeks ago I touched down in Colorado after an adventurous five weeks in Turkey. This trip, though speckled with a tourist thing here and there, mainly served as a business venture. During my stay, I assisted in the commissioning of a geothermal power plant. I worked and lived in a country where I knew none of the language, few of the customs, and a handful of people. When I try and talk to others about the trip, I tend to over exaggerate the hard parts of the journey to make me sound impressive. But, as I reflect on some of my memories, a certain image comes to mind.

To preface this, I should talk more about what I did. Everyday I woke up around 6:30 and left the hotel for the job site around 7:30. For the next ten-and-a-half hours (minimum) I would feel the Turkish sun in the middle of a corn field. Towards the end though I did spend a lot of time battle an inner exhaustion at the control table. This continued for five weeks with only four days off. On a particular day I was, let's just say, completely done. After about three weeks in the field the thrill of telling operators to aƧ and kapat the valves had become pretty repetitive. It ceased to keep me awake. I stood at the OB-31 separation station and longed for my power naps on the control room's toilet. The brine rain started to fall from the silencer and I not longer cared if the pumps started or not. But, my sister tasked me with releasing the air from the emergency dump valves and it hit me. I stood on the grates of a platform and realized that beauty exists in everything.

I took this picture to remind myself:


It's not much now, but that moment reminded me to stay positive over the long journey of commissioning. Now, as I return to school, I constantly picture this moment to stay sane. The beginning-of-the-school-year stress has come into play and I am quickly remembering why I no longer have a passion for my major. But, beauty exists in everything. The equations no longer thrill me, but the implications do. I have the power to change the world with only a calculator and a G-2 pilot. As I attempt to coast through my last year and onto law school (hopefully...) I want to remember that though things really do suck, I can find the beauty in anything.

Saturday, May 2, 2015

What's Next?

The A-toZ Challenge has officially ended and I keep asking myself: what's next? I want to continue on my poetic journey, but a couple of things will change.

First, I want to explore more topics. The challenge was a great start, but I not aim to explore all of my world, and not just part of my identity.

Secondly, and I think more importantly, I want to put out one solid poem at least once a week. Starting on the 10th of May, I want to publish one poem on this blog every Sunday. I am hoping this will allow me to focus on one crafted poem than spread myself across a bunch of different ones.

Someone hold me to this.

Thanks for sticking around!


Thursday, April 30, 2015

Z - At-to-Z in Review

About a month ago I
began a journey to start writing, no,
creating poetry through a simply challenge.
Day after day I wrote and
erased countless words in my
faded yellow pages to try and
gather my thoughts into a few
hollowed sentences.
I challenged myself from initial
jitters to some much needed,
kind words to finish the
long journey of daily creativity.
My poetry advanced, I think, and
now I mustn’t
obsess over the small details or
quirks lining my thoughts.
Right now I don’t know where I
stand or where to go. I keep contemplating next steps or
tasks laying ahead on the
unwanted path of defeats and seldom
victories. But,
with a pen in hand and an
x before the dotted line, I’ll take
you along wherever this
zoo of a life takes me.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Y - The Missing Color

Red: passion
            The look in the eyes of the attorney
            fighting for the removal of the
            second before our citizenship.

Orange: uncomfortable
            That color too bright for average
            yet too bland to mix with others.

Green: nature
            For we are fighting to feel
            harmonized and natural
            into their world
aren’t we?

Blue: calm
            Calm before the storm.
            Ability to lean on each other.
            Survivors of suicide.

Purple: royalty
            Are we not queens?

Yellow:
            Where are you?
            I see you stitched across
            the Speedos on the nude beaches
            and three rungs down on our flag
            but where is your meaning?

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

X - Where's my X?

Was it in my slightly tightened jeans
or just in my general sense of style?

Could it have been my voice inflections
or maybe when I threw some shade?

Did I crook my hand a little too much
or did my hips give away my lie?

I try to hid and cover
the x
splattered across my barren chest,
yet your aim still hits
as you identify my marker as a
faggot.

Monday, April 27, 2015

W - We?

How can we fall under
the umbrella term of
community
when we can’t even
agree or settle on
minute details like
basic survival?