Those ugly things you call shoes

I came across this site: I Hate Crocs Dot Com. while I was surfing the web and found it really amusing. You'll find here several interesting articles from the utterly absurd to the mundane, mostly, if not all, having something to do with the ridiculous fad that is Crocs.

I can't say I hate Crocs, but you won't hear me say I love 'em either and I won't be caught wearing one of those funny-looking, hole-ridden, insanely colored, plastic clogs. I have nothing againts the people who like wearing these things, nor the masterminds behind this bandwagon(except maybe envy for the genius of selling out something horrible-looking as a fashion trend and making millions from it), but its popularity is becoming quite unnerving. It is an eye-sore afterall.

Sure, they're comfortable (according to patrons of the product). Afterall, they were originally developed as spa shoes. It just makes me wonder how comfortable the people wearing these are feeling while they're looking goofy with those plastic monstrosities adorn their pretty little feet?

Perhaps I'm just being biased. Maybe the people wearing the shoes really just don't care about how they look, and couldn't care less if they're part of the latest fashion trends or the latest fad. They go for comfort...

Maybe... but I just have this feeling that this world has got one too many superficialities and that we could be better off without adding another one.

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Perhaps things aren't meant to be...

There are times when all you want is to say goodbye, even though it's not yet time to say goodbye; or let go when things aren't supposed to be let go. There are moments when you feel like leaving, and will leave if not for some circumstances that prevent you from doing so, circumstances that tell you that the time is not right.

But when is the right time? And if ever this time should come, how will you know?

Two things people tend to do when things don't turn out as expected: we either find something or someone to blame or we just attribute whatever happened to destiny and say "it wasn't meant to be." The first reaction, looking for something to blame, is mostly common, but there are times when there is nothing to blame so we simply resign ourselves to thinking that whatever we wanted was not meant for us or that "the time isn't right." However unhappy we may be of what has become of our efforts, we choose to wallow in the failure of not achieving our goals.

Therein lies the problem, because we chose... we chose not to do anything. We chose to stay put and accept that destiny did not include what we wanted in her plans for us; we say "who are we to go against the will of the cosmos?" Yet what we don't realize is that we are always given a choice.

Everything that has ever happened in our lives is because of the choices we've made, not because they were destined to be so. Whatever we do and whatever happens to us, we have a choice and those choices are always ours to make, thus we cannot blame anyone else, but ourselves.

Not even destiny.

Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.

William Jennings Bryan
US lawyer, orator, & politician (1860 - 1925)

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Les moulins de mon cœur

Round,
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel,
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever-spinning reel
Like a snowball down a mountain,
Or a carnival balloon
Like a carousel that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple
Spinning silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of its own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half-forgotten dream
Like the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on its face
And the world is like an apple
Spinning silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind!

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly?
Was it something that I said?
Lovers walk along a shore and
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand?

Pictures hanging in a hallway
or the fragment of a song,
half-remembered names and faces
but to whom do they belong?
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair?

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning
On an ever-spinning reel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

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