cellardoor_mnm

I am in Texas, or some similar place where everything is huge. I have just traveled across the Appalachians and the Smoky Mountains. Now I’m hiking over green green hills. England or Wales? Suddenly the hills are moss covered stony rooftops. I am afraid of falling off. Two peasants see me scrambling over rooftops. They laugh and jeer when I ask what I’m standing on. “It’s only the most famous cathedral in all of (Country name?)!” They roar with laughter.

I’m afraid to go farther, I might fall. But their laughter incites my pride and recklessness, so I jump to the next rooftop. They hiccup in awe and surprise as they witness this. No one is laughing now. I skillfully pick my way over the sloped roof. If I loose my footing, death is the only possible outcome.

Somehow, when I am almost off the roof, I fall right through! What I fall into is not a magnificent cathedral, but a great square stone hall that is used for raucous drinking. There is a large four-sided bar in the middle that is surrounded by stools and people milling about. People are rowdy in this place! Obviously I caused quite a stir by falling through the roof, but luckily no one was hurt by falling stones. They are all staring at me warily and whispering to each other. I think they are speaking a foreign language, but I somehow know it, and surprise them and myself by speaking in their tongue.

I pull out a bag of cash (gold and silver coins) and am about to order some fruity drink when the bar tender puts a square-shaped bottle of some top-shelf vodka and a shot glass in front of me. Whoever invented Vodka loved ethanol a lot more than I do, but I accept the compliment graciously and down the shot. It isn’t too bad! This must be what it’s like to always be rolling in the dough. Everyone in the bar is intrigued by me. Because of my obvious display of wealth, they think I’m famous or maybe they just hope I’ll buy them all drinks. Their all crowding around me, prying about my travels, when a door at the other end of the hall bursts open and some officials with their thug guards enter. “Seize him!” they shout. (I’m a boy?) There is no escape at this point. I am surrounded by people and I don’t even know where the exit is.

They take me upstairs to another part of the castle and now I am a little girl. I’m sitting at a long table with an enormous hideous man to my right, sitting at the head of the table, and there is an enormous hideous woman at the other end. There are three other children at the table, two boys and a small girl, and they seem to be taking some sort of test. The man and woman are looking on with a strange lusty greed in their glittering black eyes. One of the boys has this look of pure malice on his face, and they tell him to kill one of the other children. He is about to do it, too- with his mind, somehow. The other kids shout, “No, Peter!”

The man says, “If you don’t do it, we’ll eat you, Peter.” I look up in shock and notice his fingernails are sharp black claws. The woman’s hands are the same and she is tearing at the tablecloth in anticipation. I jump up and shout, “Come on, let’s get out of here!” and grab the other two kids and dash to the open door. The door accesses straight to a ladder that drops to the outside of the castle. For some reason, our captors let us go. Peter stays with them. (Good riddance! The boy had a look in his eye like Damien from The Omen.)

Even though they let us go, I feel like they are just doing it so they can hunt us later, as a sport. So we run to the woods. I find that the girl’s name is Mary, and the boy is Joseph. We scramble up hills in the misty woods, and slosh across a babbling stream. As we go, I notice a red fence that has been torn down and hidden under piles of leaves. Mary pants, “The man with the black face is hiding it so the children-eaters won’t know where they are.” That makes sense, tearing down landmarks to confuse the hunters. Who is this man with the black face, and why is he helping us? I’m picturing a Minotaur with huge horns when we reach the top of the river’s steep slippery bank and see an African man. Oh! “black face” and I couldn’t guess that he was just a black guy? But this guy is special. He looks like he came to this northern forest straight from the African savannah. He has his hair in three crazy little buns, and there are warrior markings on his face, and he is wearing a loincloth. I’m looking around for the rest of the lion-hunting party, but the children go right to him and he puts his great arms around them, leading the way to safety. He is like a guardian spirit, and I’m rubbing my eyes to make sure it’s not an illusion.

Don’t want to wake you
So peacefully slumbering there
Curled up and warm without a care
But your eyes coil out anyway.
“Good morning,” I say
Your eyes slowly unfolding
Bleary awakening

Head stays on the pillow case
But eyes swivel round ‘til you find my face

Kindly you peep at me
I can’t help but smile back
You look so strange, you see.
My one snail friend, forever you’ll be.

Water droplets
running in streams across the car window
wind pushes them back
gravity pulls them down
some move in smooth straight lines.
others wiggle and dash
some follow paths
others forge new ones.
the bumps in the road shake them up.
Some merge together
others split apart
They all
start in the front and race to the lower back corner
They come and go, crossing the window
We are all
water droplets.

The park is empty
no high-pitched screams resonate across the street.
So I glance to the left and the right
Only a few souls around
But no one's watching.
Cross the chain-linked fence
"Squish"- my shoes go in the wet grass
Flip over a swing so the dry side's up
Sit down and turn the music up.
My legs start to pump
This is familiar.
Though I must lift them to keep from scraping the ground,
It feels like greeting an old friend.
With each higher swing,
my heart flies
The sun is glowing brighter on this golden January dawn.
I am 8 years old again
Now 6.
Now 5.
Higher and higher, now I'm touching the sky
My eye bursts into the clouds
I have just been born
I've done it again, I've glimpsed god.
I didn't know I could time travel
or that I had it all along, but lost it somewhere-
That god-vision,
The keys to enter the kingdom
right in my pocket.
But alas-
A girl drives by in her car,
head turned staring at the little girl
trapped in my adult body.
Self-conscious once more,
I slow my pumping
The song is almost over
So I grab my headphones
and jump off.

Breath in the misty air as it rushes by my face
Cold tears stream from the corners of my eyes
But I'm not sad
Dark trees materialize in the fog
The scraping of my board drowns out calls from friends
I twist, turn, and flip around with glee
Gathering speed, knees bent
Ready to jump
and then-
For a few seconds I am a bird, or a rocket
My heart jumps to my throat as I look wide-eyed at the earth below
Weightless, am I closer to god?
Board slams onto the icy snow
Back to reality
My velocity is frightening
I shoot to the bottom of the hill
Quickly unstrap and rush to the red line
Scooped up in the chair with buddies in tow
I raise my eyes to the mountain
Thirsty for another chance to touch the sky.

So I decided to do something new, or maybe- something old. What I mean is that I am now posting some things that I have written over the past year, so this post is not necessarily up to date. But I found it interesting, to say the least. Let me know if anything catches your eye. I'd like to hear from all of you Friends out there on the Inter-web:)


Experience

The painful beauty of a perfect love song
Comes from the fact that it could never encompass
The infinite joy of my love for you
Human emotions range to such highs and lows
I want to live through all
I want to feel the pain rip open my body
Only to experience the joy of being healed
I want to shiver alone in the cold
To know the joy of a warm fireplace.
I thank god for the chance to live



Driving

I’ve never been a good driver
Swerving off and on the road.
Ditch gravel mud puddle pavement ditch again.
So I was cruising along, going 70.
Singing along with the radio
Feeling the air with my fingertips.
Then Bam!
Caught some loose gravel
Skidded and spun out.
So many small complaints
Damn that gravel!
Who threw it in the middle of the road?
So insignificant, but now look-
I’m in a wreck.
Let myself slip
Into another rut
Taken you for granted.
Thank god you own a tow truck.
Tell me to take some time out to think
Stop spinning my tires.
Running around with worries
So I sit and contemplate my situation.
You patiently tie the chain to my bumper and drag me out of the mud.
Thank you



“Know Thyself”
-The Oracle of Delphi

I am: indecisive, hopeful, idealistic, never satiated, creative, bored, attention craving, immature, escapist, procrastinator, follower, avoidant, random, bad at: getting gifts (receiving and giving), introspection, reading sarcasm, reading people period. (including myself)

I yelled at my mom for joking around with me about a book I won in some drawing in kindergarten. She said, “Oh! Look what you brought home for me! A book about dragons, alright!”
I said, “It’s not Your book! It’s MY book. It’s for ME not YOU.”
I probably caught her on a bad day. Maybe she was PMSing. She usually wasn’t that sensitive. Either way, she gave me back the book.
When I followed her into the office after a minute, I found her crying. She turned away from me, she didn’t want me to see.
I think she was sad she raised such a little brat.
That was the first time I realized parents have feelings, too.
It shouldn’t have taken me until kindergarten to figure that one out.
The remorse I still feel about that day is indescribable. It still chokes me up to think of how nasty my little voice sounded, and how cruel I was to my kind mother who just wanted to joke around with me.
I hope I learned my lesson. I hope that I have been more sensitive to other people’s feelings since then.
I hope.

Anyway,
Signing out, this is Michelle FUCKING Marinich, a girl who loves life.

Yay! i did it, i just sat here and wrote a song. Ridiculously simple melody and lyrics, but who cares? I am happy about it just the same.

November 15, 2007
Finishing off this bottle of wine and thinking about how selfish and superficial I am. Sure sure, all my good friends will tell me I am really not like that, and a good person, and I shouldn’t beat myself up, blah blah blah. But I’m really not feeling too bad right now. I’m just observing the facts. I am not a perfect person, and I’m not even really above average, when it comes to morals and standards. Then again, what is average?
But that’s not the point.
The point I was trying to make was… Ooooh! Shiny object!
Sorry.
Anyway, I would like to point out that I am a shithead. And I Wish I was all these things, like an artist and a poet and a musician, but I put no effort forth. I am too wrapped up in school work and when I am not doing that then I always want to be either with people, or just do nothing.
Dammit why did I have to run out of wine?
Ok, ok, I need to stop WHINING.
That is all for now.
Maybe I’ll try to come up with something creative and not so emo that I want to puke.

It's amazing how tired stress can make you feel.

I finally realized, a month after reading that book, The Perks of being a Wallflower, it was actually pretty good. We all just want that to go on “that perfect drive to feel infinite.” Lately, life has been getting me down pretty bad. I really need to take a step back and realize that some things are just not that important (like working all the time, or my conceived idea of “success”) and that my life is not doomed if I am not happy or doing well at the moment.

Right now I wish I could see the future. Or at least a few visions of possible futures that I could choose from. It would make things a whole lot easier. But the truth is, no one knows what the fuck is going to happen in life, and everyone has to be a little afraid. I do sort of envy the few who don’t worry and just think that things will be ok. Just like in that one-hit-wonder with the guy whistling and singing “Don’t worry, be Happy.” What a smartass.

I am horrible at making up my mind, but according to Billy Joel, that is just one aspect of being a woman. So I’m allowed to change my mind. That’s probably the best thing ever, for me, because if there were some sort of discipline or criminal offence for being indecisive, by now I’d probably get the death penalty.

It's so ironic how when people care how they will be perceived by others, it never works out. They come off wrong, just all wrong. And when you couldn't care less what everyone thought of you, people like you. At least, the people that matter do.
Ahhh, le Sigh...
bonne nuit, world.
buenos noches, amigos.
so long

So.... It seems like insomnia is the only thing that can ever get me to write in a live journal.
I can never sleep the night before a trip. I'm too riled up. I probably shouldn't try to sleep at all. I'd be in great shape to take my airport exam tomorrow.
Yeah, that's right. Airport exam. My professor is such a hard-ass that even though we are going to the national Chemical Engineering Conference, and she is a chemical engineering prof, and she is going to the same conference in the next week, she couldn't cut us any slack. Not one inch. So I suppose we are supposed to be grateful that she's not just giving us zeros.
Anyway, enough complaining. I did choose to go to this thing, after all...
Hopefully I will learn a ton about different fields, grad schools, companies, yada, yada... and I heard that Salt Lake is awesome. Mostly I just want to goof around with Krissy and Chad.
I will miss Stephen.
And Ash and Erin.
And my long lost childhood friend, Andrea, who is coming to State this weekend.
In other news: I am one step closer to becoming an adult. It's terrifying. I will accept a job offer tomorrow morning. Oh, boy.
I am way more excited now that I wrote all that out, and hence will probably not sleep at All tonight.
I am a ball of nerves and energy.
Man, I wish I could race you right now, because I could Smoke everyone of you. Bring on a marathon, because sprinting won't do. I need to run for miles and miles, it's the only way I can win. Endurance.

(Not wanting to misrepresent myself, let me clarify: I can't actually run a marathon, even though I my cardio-vascular health is above average. But I FEEL like a could. In about 20 minutes flat. Then I could make myself a bacon and runny-egg sandwich full of protein. And laugh in your face as you eat "Special K Slim and Trim" Bars, or whatever.)

So long, Michigan Friends and Lovers (Actually, Lover.) I shall return shortly, after the big drunken chaos has passed.
<3

I just watched a movie called Serendipity about two people who met, spent a few hours together, then went their separate ways. Both had fiancés, and right before their weddings, they decide that they need to find each other because they are soul mates. The movie was romantic and predictable, and they magically found each other and lived happily ever after. It was their destiny. Life was not just a series of events, coincidences, it was a great, sublime plan bringing them together.

I think fate is a fun thing to believe in, but is it really that romantic? Let’s say there is some great hand that plays around with human beings and some were meant to die, and some were meant to fall in love. Where is the romance in that? We are just puppets on strings, it doesn’t matter what we think or do.

I think life is just coincidences and what we make of them. What’s so wrong with that? Why do people feel meaningless when told that their life is just a bunch of random circumstances brought together? You yourself are what gives meaning to all these random things. Good and bad things happen, call it luck, or whatever you want. Life isn’t fair. Not even close. But sometimes, we get a wave of feeling that things were just Meant to Be a certain way. Like the series of events was supposed to happen to you, at that time, for some reason that may be hidden. What I’m going to conjecture is that feeling isn’t true. The real reason we feel like there is fate is that our own thoughts, hopes, Will are all contributing to our circumstances. If two people are meant to be together, it isn’t magic or destiny, it’s their choice. They chose each other. They decided to be with each other, to love each other, and to be content with each other and no one else. No greater hand is involved. What could be more romantic than that? If I find someone I choose to love, and they love me back, and I can be happy with this person and ignore the fact that there may be plenty of people in this world of more than 6 billion that are just as well suited for me, then that is romance.

I am torn away from my Harry Potter book, for a few hours. It's torturous. JK Rowling is a saint. She deserves those millions, for every blessed minute I and all her other readers have spent alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I haven't finished the book yet, so I can't give any definitive sort of review, but I love these books.

I wish magic was real, and I was part of the Wizarding world. I want to cast spells and be best friends with the book characters and learn from greats like Dumbledore. I want to have a brave mission to defeat evil. To save innocent lives and have adventures with a noble purpose. But alas, who doesn't?

Life isn't fair, as the cruelly truthful Mr. Rogers taught me by shattering my dreams many years ago, "There is no such thing as magic, only Illusions."

Thank god for all the people in my life. I’ve been somewhat anti-social lately, but it’s not that I don’t appreciate all the people in my life, it’s just that I feel the need to retreat, just cut off for a while. Even though I haven’t been totally social lately, I realize that I still have way more freedom and hang out with friends way more often than I did in high school.
Maybe it’s just because it’s summer, and I used to spend summers basically alone, or with Angela (who I miss) reading Harry Potter and other books, doing gardening and other work, and sometimes hanging out with friends. I just need more downtime. Which is why I absolutely should not by sitting here writing right now, because I have a chem. Engineering final tomorrow!!! So- back to the grindstone, but afterwards, I’m going to do Absolutely Nothing useful or productive for the next four days
Ps, XX is a wonderful beer, especially with extra lime :)
PPS: I love my friends. I appreciate you all in different ways.

Summer classes are great.

I really love having only 8 people in my engineering class, we get along, do our homework together, and can ask the professor as many stupid questions we want.

Summer classes are supposed to be intense, and it's hard, but also, I really like the fact that I can focus on only 2 subjects, actually spend a lot of time on each one.

Plus, East Lansing is Beautiful in the summer. I went running and found a gorgeous trail that runs along the river... So I followed it for a while, and ended up at the Potter Park Zoo! There were school buses full of kids on a field trip.

If the weather was like this all year round, I'd never want to leave.

Ok, so Andy inspired me to write about my theory about what happens (or what I think might happen to me) after death.

My view of death throughout my whole life was pretty standard, Christian, you go to heaven if you are good and get to fly around in the clouds with the angels and... play bridge? go to listen to God the Father preach and maybe pal around with Jesus? Everybody's super nice, because hey, they're in heaven, they had to do Something to get there, right? Heaven, basically, sounds Nice, but that's about it. Comforting, the thought of endless bliss, but what's the Point? Boring!

On the other hand, if you are horrible and sinful you go to a flaming lake of molten rocks. Ouch!

Why is the afterlife so polarized? There are only good people and bad people. It must really suck for the people who are just OK, not quite special enough or devout enough to make it up there with St. Micheal, so they just get tossed in the lake. Man, I bet they wish they did just a few more hours of charity work.

That's why I always LIKED the idea of purgatory. The Catholics depolarized the universe at least a little by admitting that there are shades of gray, and those who not Super bad or good get stuck in a holding basket until someone says enough rosaries for them.

Anyway, I digress too much. Beyond heaven and hell, my new viewpoint of Death (or Life, you might say) is just my concocted fantasy.

I don't really believe in any sort of everlasting soul anymore. I think it's a cool idea, to think that I'm going to last forever, but also just sort of egotistical. I think the only reason anyone believes their soul will last forever is because they can't deal with the concept of the world turning without them. Non-existence is scary because everyone thinks, deep down, that the world revolves around them, and if they don't exist, then what's the point of everyone/ everything else?
So I believe in a sort of transcendentalist-buddhist oversoul. The part of me that is connected to and a part of the entire universe and every other person and object; every molecule and every thing that does not exist. When I die, that doesn't change. There will be no more Michelle Marinich, no more collection of my thoughts, feelings, my intellect or body. All the parts I am composed up will disintegrate, but it doesn't matter. There is still this everlasting life that I came from, am a part of now, and will always be a part of.

This view is sort of my ideal situation, I have no clue if it is true or not. It makes sense to me, but then I don't know if one can use intellect to judge what happens "on the other side." I guess that I just assume that the world would follow the same rules whether I'm dead or alive, and that means there is no such thing as Just good and bad or black and white.

I have this wonderful vision of my dead self breaking up and just dancing around with air molecules, getting sucked up by the plasmodesmatta on leaves (is that even what they are called? Shows how much I pay attention in bio.), becoming part of the earth. It's turbulent, ever-changing, it's life. I like it.

i'm procrastinating! Procrastinating, Procrastinating!!!!
I HATE the work I'm doing right now, i should have remembered from 6th grade how much I fucking Hate science projects. I love science, but doing a science project is just about the most stressful thing in the world for me, because i dont really know what i'm doing and i'm worried about the questions people/judges are going to ask me, and it just makes me feel stupid, AND, why am i worrying about it in the first place, because i don't give a shit if i win or get honors or something, in fact, if that happened, i'd be all embarrassed about it.

I also HATE working with MATLAB, gay-as-hell computer program of CSE 131. tedious. i'm sick of staring at this screen. maybe engineering is the Wrong field for me, oh god what am i doing???

i should just be an artist in the desert and live in some friend's basement as a charity case, as i originally intended.

BANG BANG i want to smash my head and just knock myself OUT.

Ahhh its so relaxing to be home. I had a great time with Stephen in Chicago, The art museum was AMAZING!!! So many famous works that I got to see for the first time in real life. Loved going to eat deep-dish pizza with Ashley, Ian, and Jill (and Stephen of course). We stayed in an awesome hotel, thanks to Stephen’s aunt. Who knew, there’s some rule against under-21 yr olds getting hotel rooms. Good thing the lady let us slip without a hassle… Ate Dim Sum for the first time, fun way to eat ChineseJ even though we wasted our time going to the science museum because the body exhibit was sold out, so one useless (relaxing) taxi ride, a bus ride, and a 500 block walk later, we jumped in the car and rocketed off to home. I… love Stephen, I’ve learned so much from my brilliant boyfriend. Almost 6 months have past since we’ve been together! Love my mom, really glad I found her some cool presents in Chicago, because so far no one has done a THING to celebrate her birthday… She’s not bitter or anything, but I think it makes her a little sad. But I will wrap her presents and bake her a cake tomorrow, so I’m excited about that. Also, I get to hang out hopefully doing Nothing this week (Oh crap, other than trying to get a summer internship…) and then Maybe- this weekend go snowboarding with my sis! YAY schools out! (for this week, at least. Thank god.)

I feel like there is a way out of all the drama of life. Right now I'm in a really good place, probably the best I've been in my entire life. It is the best feeling ever, because there is a constant reassurance that I am loved. I think about the causes of human drama, most of them stem from just wanting connections with people, Supposedly there is a way out of all the drama, but I feel like for most people, the thought of giving up drama is scary, because that's what there whole lives are made of. If they let go of the drama, there is nothing, it's boring, nothing to get excited about. But that kind of becoming empty is actually the key to inner happiness.

My current situation leaves me wondering if i have achieved that internal peace, or if I just have this peace and happiness given to me by someone who cares. If he was taken away from me for some crazy reason ( I don't think it will happen, just speculating), What would become of me? Would all my joy in life disappear? Of course I'd be grief-stricken for a long time, but would I EVER be able to pick myself up and get on with life? Would I even want to? Or would I want to stick to my ego, my identity as the one who had love and lost it for good?

I feel like Stephen has helped me in a deeper way, more than just fleeting happiness, more than something that would dissapear if we were separated. I've grown. I've learned more than I can write down in a live journal, let it suffice to say that we've taught each other a thing or two.

I look at my friends, some of whom are going through some tough times right now, and certainly a lot of drama, and wonder how I could give them some of my inner peace. Is this something you can teach? Is this something you get from experience? Is it something they would even want or accept from me? Or are they too addicted to the drama to let it go? just let it all go...

oh how good it is to be loved by you.... shoodoodoodoowa...

I'm a cornball. I listen to country sometimes. I get mushy and cliche and my rational, normal self is slightly disgusted with me. What can I do? I am no longer a faithful servant to my mind, but now am sometimes overtaken by the confused, capricious master of emotion. and yet I am able to observe all this from a third, higher viewpoint. How strange. (this is where you could use some strange quotation somewhere between a period and a question mark, similar to when you say "I wonder" as Stephen says.)
I must go be the guinea pig for the spicy-as-hell-indian chicken. yum yum!

Am I kidding myself? I mean, in all reality I could be making the classic mistake that anyone in love makes. First time you fall in love, you think everything will be great and you'll be together forever and you plan out your entire lives and make sure that they fit together.
Are you supposed to make sure ahead of time? Or does that just lock you into something that won't work out anyway because eventually you'll find some major pieces of the puzzle that just don't fit together, no matter which way you turn them?
Maybe trying to fit every piece together ahead of time is a sure-fire way to break up the puzzle before you really get in too deep. Is that a safe guard? Is that the best way to go about it? Should you just go with how you feel right now and never think about "What if?"
What if something happens. What if it Doesn't Work. What if you suddenly find yourself out in the cold all alone, and even worse, the whole future that you planned out is shattered. Not only do you have the pain and vulnerability of heartbreak, but your road map is torn into shreds.
Should you iron out every single issue and expect all the pieces to fit? Or is there no such thing as the perfect match? People will always disagree about some things. All the successful married couples I've seen have their share of disagreements. (Successful married couples are much harder to come by than you'd think.)But all the disagreements always sort of seem trivial in comparison to how much they care about each other.

I've always thought people are stupid to compromise too much if they aren't married. That's what dating is all about, you try someone on, and if they don't fit, you find someone new. That's the beauty of the system! We're young and have no reason to stay in relationships that aren't working now, because there is no reason to think they will work out in the future.
Girls who change everything about themselves for their man are stupid and weak. They change their friends, pastimes, hobbies, clothes, etc. I HATE the mindset of those girls. It's so short sighted. You think you are going to be together forever, so you have to make this work. Get over it! get out of your tiny little viewpoint and see the big picture. Which is, basically, that you are Not going to stay together, because sooner or later one of you is going to realize that its pointless and break it up. Or worse- both of you will be so attached to the relationship, that even when it is clearly a pile of strings and garbage, you won't let go. Then you will both end up stringing each other along for eternity and eventually all those little puzzle pieces that never fit in the first place are going to itch you so bad that "trivial" differences will turn into pure loathing.

I am not thinking about stopping my relationship, only wondering if it is right or even possible to "make the pieces fit" at this point. Should we figure out Exactly what we are getting into ahead of time? Or should we just let issues gently bubble to the surface as time will have them? Or is this a very dangerous approach? What if you are so embedded into a relationship that by the time some huge bubble bursts in your face there's nothing you can do about it? You're stuck.

On a somewhat different topic- What is moderation? It's such an issue of pure relativity that it seems impossible to define.
My moderation might be hugely in excess or deficiency for someone else. If my life mantra is "All things in moderation, and none to excess," then what does this even mean? Can I strike a balance between the people who influence me and just be the mean of all of these? Or is it something you can decide completely on your own? I tend to thing that epistemology based on secluded, purely individual thought is unrealistic. Everyone thinks things based on their experiences. Everything that has ever happened to me in my life helps me define "moderation." So, everyone that I've ever observed or known is just added to my inventory of the range of possible behaviors and beliefs. Everyone's range, and hence, their middle ground, is different based on their life.

Is there one great truth or many? Will mine ever agree with yours?