SIBLINGS:                   


         We live in a world where it's more likely to be hit by lightning, than be an only child. In fact, if you're reading this, there's a 85% chance you have either a brother, sister, or both. We can attribute this to "golden standards" perpetuating a family of four -a mother, a father, an older son, and his younger sister. That, and well, to put simply, we live in an age of heightened libido, ere go, more children being born, especially within the same family. And although the initial childhood may prove challenging with the ongoing bickering and sibling rivalries, there is a point where they come to mature and realize that those kinds of actions are best left behind, as they are a very important part of their immediate family.
         I am currently living through such a transition. In our childhood years, the Procreator pitted us all against each other, and thus, my brother, sister, and I have constantly lived in a state of hostility towards each other. In recent years, we've all come to terms with the fact that it is individually none of our faults for all of those years wasted. We are now all on generally very amiable terms, and I speak fondly with my sister, who confides in me a lot, which is rather refreshing. I even turned a new page with my brother, today. Ever since he swore off ties with the Procreator, he's showed that he's cared about my sister and I by supporting us from afar. I had a moving heart-to-heart phone conversation with him, today. We even both said "I love you" to each other. That's honestly a first. I just wish that things were this way earlier. No complaints, though. I'm just glad that they are a reality now.

                                                             AWARENESS:                            


    Unless for some reason you've spent the entirety of your day sleeping under a rock, I'm sure you've heard of "Kony 2012" at least once, today. " But what exactly IS Kony 2012, anyway?" you ask. Excellent question. And I'm dedicating this entry on spreading the awareness of this impending issue, as it was easily the biggest unveiling of my day. Kony 2012 is a recent, worldwide campaign to raise awareness for the arrest of Joseph Kony, the leader of the Ugandan Lord's Resistance Army (LRA), in which he forces native children to either become rebel children soldiers who kill their parents and civilians, or prostitutes. As of yet, Kony has brought up his own personal death toll to over 30,000. Kony has been listed as the world's foremost dangerous leader, as he has a  Hitler/Stalin-like following, and remains unopposed in terms of power in Uganda. And the number of violent deaths on his part has made him the premier target for eradication, concerning peacemakers worldwide.
      But there is a way to help. The first is to get informed. I strongly urge you (the reader) to look up "Kony 2012" on YouTube, and watch the very first result video. Yes, it is a half-an-hour long video, but it is both informative, heartbreaking, and utterly gripping. In our current state of the world, technology has allowed for us to make an actual difference. Social media has been spreading the word on a global scale, today especially. I feel it's important to keep up-to-date with the progress of this particular movement. Unlike previous campaigns to overthrow a powerful dictator, Kony 2012 is a legitimate, methodical, well thought-out example of preserving humanity. And unlike other "bandwagon campaigns," this one has made sure that it will be able to maintain a steady buzz by having city-specific awareness days all throughout the world, and a Global Awareness Day on April 20, 2012, when campaigners will cover every visible inch of their respective cities with "Stop Kony" posters at precisely midnight, for the rest of the world to see. Also, there are Action Kits that go on retail for $25 that come with Kony 2012 bracelets, awareness posters, and more. If you are serious about making a change that can preserve the future of the Ugandan people, I urge you to sign the petition to give a small, charitable monthly amount to help aid this cause. Thank you for your time.

                                                              FAITH:                             


      Today has been filled with quite a few questions of faith for me. Well for one, I should mention that I am a Christian. And a rather unorthodox one, at that. Due to a religious fallout at the age of 15, I've lost significant touch with my religious duties. Admittedly, the only times where I feel like I'm even partaking in something religious is when I pray before I eat a meal. A large part of the issue is my pride. I should backtrack a little; when I was 15, the Procreator stopped taking us (my brother, sister, and I) to Church on Sundays. I know this may come off as sacrilegious , but we were all okay with the thought of not having to wake up early to get all fancied up on a Sunday morning. We were young and naive at the time. I daren't ask the Procreator to go by myself, because she would lash out at me by saying that it would make HER look bad if her kids were there at Church, but she wasn't.
      This doesn't quite explain how my pride got in the way, however. Several months later, she had another one of her "revelations"- duly air quoted because every word and action she spouted was a complete and utter lie. We all saw through her facade. She would go on hypocritically preaching that the "disrespect" she receives (basically, any time we don't immediately give her what she wants) contradicts a Commandment. It doesn't, by the way. "Honor thy father." Not a mere mention of the mother. And subsequently, she tried to "renew" OUR (as a family) religious strength by urging us to go with her, but it was a ploy. She made her decision based on the majority agreement between the three, and seeing how we all didn't want to give in just to make her feel satisfied like she did something to strengthen our religious bonds, we continually answered no. And thus begun my downward spiral of faith. As mentioned before, the only religious thing I do nowadays is pray before meals, and my pride makes me do that in a hurried, secretive fashion, as to not have her see me and claim that I of all people was the hypocrite, since I can pay respects to my Lord (who deserves it) and not her (who obviously doesn't.) It's not like I deliberately want to be a man of bad faith. Poor practice has made it so. I've just been waiting for the right time to get back into my faith at a time that does not conflict with my pride. Selfish and foolish, I know. But I hope I'll be forgiven for my lack of diligence. Amen to that.

                                                  ETYMOLOGY:                      


     Etymology: the study of the composition of words. The mere mention of the word brings a smile to my face. It's such a brilliant thing, etymology. It is ingrained into the roots of my love for words. You see, as etymology is the study of the origins or original sources of words, it takes well-versed minds to decipher such origins. One must have a thorough understanding of both prefixes and suffixes in order to break the word apart. Sufficient training in Latin is also a secondary requirement for etymologists, as a vast majority of the words in the English language have Latin origins. While musing upon the idea of etymology today, a thought occurred to me: "Words didn't just appear from thin air. People must have created base words, expanded upon them and kept adding to the ever-expanding list." This made me wonder - what WERE the first words in existence? To whom do we owe the pleasure of these original words? And most interestingly, whose to say that I myself can't come up with my own additions to the English Language?
   Today, I spent quite some time doing just that : compiling a lexicon of illegitimate words that I created myself. An "Illexicon," if you will. As of now, Volume One of my Illexicon is complete, although the list is subject to many more additions. I conjured up a list of ideas, scenarios, feelings, actions, and subjects that did not necessarily have their own respective word allotted for them in the English Dictionary. Those words are the basis of my Illexicon. Here are a couple of examples:


Humdagger: (n) One who voluntarily spreads lies. (v) Humdagger --> (n) Humdaggery
Sheshel: (v) To formally gather in secrecy. (gerund) Sheshelling, (n) Shesheller
Mediocrates : (n) One who strives for mediocracy in life, (adj) Mediocratesean
Curwey: (v)  To conceal something before another is able to see it. (gerund) Curweying, (n) Curweyist

I thoroughly enjoy the idea of creating your own Illexicon. In fact, I encourage you (the reader) to compose your own Illexicon, granted you have a fond predilection with words. My goal is to have at least one word from my Illexicon become household, and even featured in an updated version of Merriam-Webster. It would be wondrous if I were to have left an etymological print on the world before I died.

                                                     STRANGERS:                        


     I only detest that this word was coined the way it was. Whose to say a stranger is really strange? Whose to say that someone familiar to you doesn't have the ability to be stranger (heh, look at how words have multiple meanings) than a stranger? I have come to the conclusion that this term is offensive, a large percentage of the time. A vast majority of strangers are just normal people leading normal lives. And y'see, everything is subjective in its own scope- I can be a perfectly normal human being with no out-of-the-ordinary traits, but if we have not yet familiarized ourselves yet, to you, I am just a stranger. There are admittedly a few big red flags that can determine whether or not the term "stranger" is an apt label; if the person: wears a fanny pack, smells like a rotting corpse, is naked, walks around barefoot, screams at small children, masturbates/pees in public, and/or humps inanimate objects, you have ALL the right to deem them a "stranger."
      And for the record, certain rules that you're told when you're younger are in dire need of revision. I'm sure we've all heard of the completely cliched parental rule of "don't talk to strangers." Honestly, nothing could be more preposterous in application in real life. If we were all undyingly obedient, the whole world would be unable to interact, and we'd be reduced to a species of hermits and closet-dwellers. I would have been a social outcast (or even moreso, I should say). I would never be able to find love in the world because I could never communicate my feelings to a person because they are a stranger to me. Job interviews? Forget 'em. Wouldn't be able to chat up the man behind the desk simply because I've never met him before. A new baby brother, you say? Guess he won't be having an older brother to look up to, because he's a total stranger to me. See what I'm talking about? You would get nowhere in the world if you actually adhered to this omni-flawed rule of thumb. How about we amend that rule to "Don't talk to suspicious men in windowless vans who offer you candy"? Would've saved me some childhood scars. Just kidding...mostly.

                                                      NOSTRADAMUS:         


      Nostradamus, you silly bird. What gives your Doomsday Theory any more veracity than the impending threat of Y2K? And what on earth prompted you to come to such a conclusion? Nevertheless, the widespread rumors of "Nostradamus Day" or simply "2012" have reached a global scale. But whose to say this iteration of the death of mankind is legitimate? I digress. I should say, however, that this premise has become the main premise of a new series that I concocted. Y'see, I tend to make up a lot of shows in head, primarily American Animes, but for once, I wanted to delve into field of scripted television. This led to my creation of a series I like to call The Remainders. It's an action/mystery/survival show, somewhat in the vain of Lost, except the storyline isn't riddled with mind-numbing complications.
      The show spans a total of four seasons, each season containing 10 episodes, and each episode being an hour long, for a total of 40 hours of airtime. The first three seasons follow a different pair of protagonists in a different setting of the world, where they have both come to the conclusion that they are the sole survivors of the world. Season 1 is set in New York, Season 2 in Paris, and Season 3 in South Africa. The plot begins on January 1, 2013 (each episode will indicate the date, and each season will repeat the same dates with different characters and scenarios up until Season 4, where everyone is up to the same point in time), a few days after Nostradamus' prediction came true. Season 1 follows the survival story of Pierce Chenrey, a 24 year old former CIA Agent and Brenda Haplon, a 24 year old accountant who has little faith in men, due to all her past relationships. The two have to outlive the throes of a "Postradamus" New York, where they are sole human survivors, and few animals are left alive. They manage to befriend one - a lovable dog named Heston, who becomes their one source of happiness in this dull, abandoned world. While traversing through a forest that was primarily unscathed by the cataclysm (thus is still home to many animals), Heston is bitten a poisonous snake and dies, right before they find an abandoned airplane. During the season finale, they decide to use Pierce's piloting knowledge to go to the place where a mysterious transmission was sent, urging them to join "The Remainders' Convention."
    Season 2 follows the survival story of Rory Nebeaux and Matilda D'noir, a pair of Parisians who believe fate and love have brought them together in a world where only they (believe they) exist. They quickly fall madly in love, and decide that it is up to them to find some way to repopulate the world. Eight months into Matilda's pregnancy, they find a strange computer that was also sent a transmission informing them to come to the mysterious "Remainders' Convention." Season 3 follows the story of an American doctor, 42 year-old Jack Pinsley, who now lives in South Africa, and a young, light-skinned boy, Lutir, age 17. After much traversing, they meet a third survivor with whom they immediately distrust, Olayinka, a female tribeswoman who is incidentally Lutir's age. After many bouts with the remaining wildlife, Pinsley gets an unknown email on his laptop telling him to gather his group of survivors, and head to Italy for "The Remainders' Convention." Season 4 is set in Italy, where all the protagonists of the first three seasons meet up and interact for the first time. They are greeted by "The Oligarchy," a group of three Italian survivors, Dante, Vicente, and Lucia, all who sent out the transmissions for The Remainders' Convention. It is later revealed that the Convention is a ploy to have the other survivors killed off and allow The Oligarchy to repopulate the world and share the crown of world domination. Blood is shed and a few protagonists die along the way, but the original pair play a big part in the resolution of the plot, which I will not spoil.
     To say the least, I can say I found some inspiration from Nostradamus's ridiculous "prediction." Perhaps I'm not giving him due credit. For all I know, the world COULD on December 21, 2012, seeing how that's Snooki's due date. Food for thought.

                                                      INTERACTIONS:                      

    Interactions occur between humans on a daily basis. Some are pleasant, some are disappointing, and some are just downright sad. No matter the case, we as a species crave social interaction for the mere fact that we enjoy a sense of companionship and confidence. This is, of course, stems from the assumption that you do indeed have people to associate yourself with (I've met a few hermits in my days). Simple interactions could include a quaint conversation with a decent stranger, rowdy afternoons and/or nights with your best buddies, or that inherently awkward eye contact that you make when you pass your ex. Like I said before, interactions ARE varied. It's rather important that one finds social interaction on a daily basis, lest one is to regress into a being of pure solitude, who actually finds a sick sense of contention by being perfectly alone.
      I can't say I identify with this lone wolf figure, but in all honesty, I've been slowly coming down with Hermit Syndrome. In the past week alone, the person I've interacted with most (dare I say it) would be my own Procreator, albeit at no fault of my own, as she enjoys any and all opportunities to inject a healthy dose of herself into each and every day. Other than that, I can honestly say I only remember interacting with cashiers at respective stores and restaurants that I've gone to please this darn woman with "sustenance" (and by that, I mean junk food). This worries me. Even now, as I type these very words in this dimly lit, ungodly, unforsaken room, I feel the symptoms of the Hermit Syndrome setting in. I must curtail and nip this problem in the bud as soon as humanly possible. The last thing I want to look like is a broken soul who no longer needs and/or believes in shaving, and whose best friend is his dimly lit bulb. I refuse to become that. Luckily, tomorrow seems to be JUST the fix I needed. I'm rounding up the boys and heading to the city for a day of aimless exploration, which is precisely what the doctor ordered. I just pray that I won't have to postpone this occasion like previous get-togethers. I NEED THIS. I can't revert. I can't become a man who fears sunlight. I can't become Edward Cullen.