College at 43

Getting accepted, setting up financing, and finding a place to rent from so far away is an incredible challenge.  Not to mention all the hurdles in each of those steps.

Some days I feel the challenge could be too daunting for me.  I know better, but doubt and depression go hand in hand.  I have been overwhelmed the past couple weeks.  I feel too much, think too much, react too much.  All because I want something more from life.  I don’t want the burden of OCD for the rest of my days.  I have no idea how to stop it, but I have to find out.  There has to be a biological reason that my cells don’t act/react the same as other people.  There also has to be a way to fix that.  Emotions and feelings are cellular reactions.  They are a physical response to stimuli.  Therefor there should be a reasonable way to repair a mis wired or malfunctioning set of molecules.  If depression can be lifted, even temporarily, by any means, then it is logical to believe that mental disorders can be fixed.  Cured.  The body can be healed, I just don’t know how yet.  Some kind of plant?  My favorite theory is the use of nanites to scrub the cells clean and repair any damage.  If they can do that, then they could rewire them to behave normally.  These are the things I think about as I cook at work.  This is what consumes so much of my time lately.  I’m obsessing over having Obsessive Compulsive Disorder…to me, that’s funny.

Peace to you and yours, from me and mine.  I hope your troubles flee from you.  I hope your days go well.  I hope the suns shines on you.


Just a thought

I think we need better, more long lasting ways of curing depression.  Current methods are simply not good enough.  It’s either through suppression meds, or mostly illegal plants.  Neither of which have lasting effects.  Someone invent nanites with AI capabilities to clean off molecules of sticky proteins please.  Maybe they can use sonic emitters to shake it off, or make an advanced nanite that can use small tools like arms to pull off the junk.  This could also help with plaque build up.  One of you super smart tech people make this happen:D  Meanwhile I will continue to look into more biological means.

My “dissertation” on the sounds to letters and language. -JJB-

I was having fun the other night and ran across a fellow blogger

The first post I read of hers was a poem she had translated from one of her 2 native tongues, English into a desired language, German. It is as follows

Die Welt                                                           The World

Die Buame                                                     The trees

Die Blumen                                                    The Flowers

Der Wind                                                     The Wind

Sie Horen alles                                      They hear everything

Sie horen unsere Traurigkeit              They hear our sandness

Unser Flustern                                          Our Whispers

Und wenn du zuhorst                             And if you listen

Sie erzahlen Ihnen eine Million Geschichten           They tell you a million stories

Uber die Welt                                            About the World

That is the side by side poem, read each aloud and listen to the sounds of the speaker, rather than define the meanings of the words. Listen to how each other sounds saying it.  How does each sound feel?  What imagery comes to mind in the language you don’t know(in the case you know both, continue on to Google Translate use).  Each language was created by poets, as stated in the Trivium.  The poet of each the separated tribes of man had it’s own set of poet translators.  Each with their own motivations for existence.  Each having already been given some ideas from before the tribes went their separate ways.

Now, the next is what I heard.  Remember language, as a whole, is subjective, not objective as the Quadrivium is.  Translated on Google Translate using the German poem.

Arabic the sounds of the poem is, for the lack of better words, poetic.  I could feel each set of words describing the world to me.  Starting at the A, uplifting and soaring sounds.  Imagery was the sky, clouds, birds, then tops of trees. On to the more harsh, coarse words that sounded like bark. Followed by falling and flowing earthy words of grounding and rooting.  The Language of Description.

Chinese Simplified felt like the Arabic reading.  Traditional was more grounded and serious.  The latter being the Language of Caution, later altered to flow into Description

English was smashed gibberish.  It is the language of Chaos and Confusion.

French sounded like the poem was meant to be spoken aloud in this language.  The Language of Orators.

Greek every word had the sound of uplifting poetry in it’s own right.  The Language of Philosopher Poets. Perfect fit.

Hindi was interesting in that it was informative and factual.  The Language of the Keepers.

Italian was twisting even sounded encoded without knowing a single word.  The Language of Secrets.

Japanese was straight forward and insistent. Earnest and Truthful.  The Language of Honour.

Latin was weird!  It sounded like I was being read to, a basic non consecutive string of words.  The Heart of Language.

Norwegion was like a rallying tale, rising and flowing. Always forward, never lower or slower.  The Language of the Bard.

Russian flowed like a short story rather than a poem.  The Language of Speech.

Spanish was a beautiful ebb and flow of sounds.  Peaks and valleys that I wanted to follow.  The Language of Storytellers

Ukrainian was the sounds of struggle through words.  The Language of the Oppressed.


Thanks to the writing for joining this project!

આભાર મારા મિત્ર, તમે આ પ્રવાસ રહેશે?

as a nice little side note all that ^ up there ^ was garnered through basic life until age 43 and reading to page 16 in the Trivium: The classical liberal arts of grammar, logic, & rhetoric.  I just need more schooling now 🙂




Chapter 1, Part 2 of FFA

“And so it was.  The signal had been sent.  Each heard the call in their own time.  From the span of the globe, the stone’s call was heard.  The anima mundi was dying” “That’s the last thing I heard before I woke up from my torpor”, said The Alchemist to the Bearer.  The Bearer shrugged and smile.  It was simple enough to him.  He’s the one that said it, before hanging up his phone just, just days before.

“Where do we start?” asked The Bearer.  “Southern California, to my best estimate.”  was the reply he heard as they continued walking toward ticket counter.  As they approached the counter, they could both tell this poor ticket counter girl has anywhere better to be than here.  She hadn’t looked up from her media device until The Alchemist had cleared his throat.  “Where would you like State Hopper Airlines to sweep you off to today”, the young woman droned.  Might as well have been reading the ingredients on a shampoo bottle.


My true life goal. My Quest.

I believe that some iteration of the fabled Alchemy Stone exists.  In some form of a combination solid molecules of plant, animal, and mineral with that of sound and temperature.  That it should be possible within this planet to locate each of those individual parts and to bring them together to actually heal the human body, rather than treat, or medicate it.  Be it the Al-iksir, or any other mythological names it has been give, but we have been unable to discover.  Along this quest I will find the cure for our “mental illnesses” or more literally, stabilize the relation ship between our own cells in harmony with one another(reactive or deactivate the proper cellular receptors), in order to create a more stable internal person.  You heard it here!  When I find it, you read it first!(Picture this as my digital autograph to you all)  All joking aside, this is now the journey I am on, the first steps have been taken, the next 5-10 years roughly planned out ahead of me.

^That is all from the mind of a 43 year old man that has battled depression all his life.  That same man has had his own internal breakthroughs and wants to find real cures now to reach every person on earth.  Just 2 month ago I was an angry line cook with a great family and good life, but I lived in a consistent state of perceived misery.  I felt I was trapped, no hope, no way out.  The quest was presented to me and I fully accept it.  Whether it take 10 years or 100(lets be realistic, more like 40ish, I’m no spring chicken) I will spend every moment I have seeking this solution.  I will learn the science to prove or disprove what I believe.  I will then obtain the proper credentials so that people can trust all my hot air. I will not be swayed by “it can’t be done” “Alchemy is in the past for a reason” “Alchemy and Medicine are the same thing”  I have been held down and held back for too long.  Now it time to soar in the clouds.

For all of my gamer friends out there.  It means I have maxed out my cooking skills and it’s time to get back to the story line.

Do there exist many worlds, or is there but a single world? This is one of the most noble and exalted questions in the study of Nature. -AM (some of his manners of thinking are archaic at best, but his overall meaning is what matters)

Chapter 1, Magnum Opus

“It is my burden, this Magnum Opus, that I must bear to cure our people” said The Alchemist looking to his long time friend and assistant “I need your help, I can’t carry the false stone we carry on my own, it’s just too heavy.  Will you help me shoulder this stone, while we search for the real one?”  The Bearer laughed loudly, as though he had just heard the best joke ever told.  “You are asking?  Really?  Since, you know, we have been on THE SAME QUEST FOR DECADES”  he ended his laughing tirade with a roar.  The pair let the conversation dissolve into the nights mirth.

The following day was full of bustle and elation in the house of the Alchemist.  His mind was awash with old, forgotten memories and truths.  With new ideas, and the best part of all, a new quest, he was in a hurry to get the quest started.

“Stop being so impatient, dear” his wife said, placing a consoling hand on her husband’s shoulder.  “We have to wait for your friend to be ready, right?”  “You’re right”, he sighed.  “But I’ve been in torpor for so long, I have wasted so much time.  I can’t help but champ at the bit.  I’m ready, and the Ainma Mundi is not getting better on it’s own.  The real Alchemist Stone is the only way to fix this mess!”  His eyes were full of fire and life The Wife had never seem before.  She was both soaring with joy, and terrified at the other possibility.  The false  lapis philosophorum had corrupted his core for so long, made him into a monster…caused so much pain and suffering.  Her tumultuous emotions aside, she know she needed to show only strength right now.

“We leave for India within the day, why is everyone dragging their feet”, asked the Alchemist.  “It’s like this honey”, The Wife comforted, “You woke up and started on a dead sprint to get started.  It’s great you are this ready, but you forgot to eat breakfast, you’re missing a sock, and I think almost everyone could agree, you need pants on, almost.” The Alchemist just stopped in his tracks, looked at himself in the standing mirror in the hallway and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.  “You’re right, but I still say pants are overrated.” They laughed together a moment, before they went back to preparing.

“Do you really think the Syamantaka will be one of the keys?”  The wife called out, half rhetorically.  “I just woke up, how should I know.” He replied, chuckling.  The suddenness of the campaign and the speed it came together was almost overwhelming for his newly awakened body and brain.  You see, The Alchemist is not the same as you and I.  His core can be moved from vessel to vessel, to suit the needs of the operator.  The last suit his core was imprinted in was a shell that had been secretly corrupted by Avicenna Ibn Sina. They were seeking a more stable center stone to imprint his core on, before taking the battle to Avicenna.  He absentmindedly rubbed his left breast muscle, his “heart”, or cradle of life.  The previous shell had left some nasty scars on his core, when it was finally able to burn out of the shell.