<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:58:55.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uninsightful Insights on Living Life</title><subtitle type='html'>Or, the wild life of a Kenyan widow, thougts from an albino outcast, the crazed life of a madman,What's that on my head, wait it's my hair-the autobiography of Donald Trump, how to cope with hair loss,the secret lives of cleaning women, how to create an Indian costume in 5 easy steps,that puts a funk in my mojo, or whatever</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-114153965908745829</id><published>2006-03-05T00:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T01:48:21.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Relationships</title><content type='html'>Courtney Blevins,&lt;br /&gt;Dusty Bratzler,&lt;br /&gt; Jared Brown,&lt;br /&gt; Cory Enlow,&lt;br /&gt;Chris Harris,&lt;br /&gt;Levi Lee,&lt;br /&gt;John Orr,&lt;br /&gt; Tim Orr,&lt;br /&gt; Mark Payne,&lt;br /&gt; Sean Pilkenton,&lt;br /&gt;Andy Poplin,&lt;br /&gt; Josh Salee,&lt;br /&gt; Nathan Selvidge,&lt;br /&gt;Charles Solomon,&lt;br /&gt; Kyle Stevens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bobby Brummet,&lt;br /&gt;Jerry Pease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bixby Basketball,&lt;br /&gt;family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-114153965908745829?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/114153965908745829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=114153965908745829' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/114153965908745829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/114153965908745829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2006/03/relationships.html' title='Relationships'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-113566741244724636</id><published>2005-12-27T00:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T01:51:45.083-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weave</title><content type='html'>Ah groove ! I can't blog without it, this is no Barry Sanders, unstoppable, shake and bake groove, this is old woman, just had a slice of apple pie, just finished my quilt 20 years in the making groove. We all know how that feels. Fidel Castro has been living in this state of groove for the last 20 years, sitting around eating pineapple, grooming his moustache, promising his mother that he'll stop the communism thing before she dies, and then making amends with his priest in the confession booth for his numerous sins, most notably, lying to his mother. Anyway, Cuba is beautiful, but seriously, I'm a sucker for sports movies, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, it's the next best thing to playing. and I really miss playing. I am Americas next poet laureate, I've been writing the stuff like wildfire these days, all love poetry, inspired by one girl or another. I once read something about existence being a weave that holds all the pieces in place, we're each others strength, I am possibly in love with this idea. But, I don't know how real it is, anymore, I have come to think that no matter how much has been said about sharing your burdens, about the contentment that naturally will follow, it might be a sham. I can share my burden, I can let it out, I can scream it from the collective rooftops of the world, and yet, it's still my burden, it weighs me down. Burdens are the stakes which keep the tent low to the ground, that keep it from floating, and searching, and testing its parameters. My tent is weighed down, in the riverbed, and the water is rushing upon me, some wild herd untamed, unbridled, unhindered, and frightening. Above all, I'm scared. Of new possibilities, of old possibilities, and of people. People frighten me, I'm shy, and afraid of failing, of not living up to people's expectations, of not living up to my expectations. I'm unimpressive at best, and my esteem is bunk. I am drama personified, which is a queer statement from a masculine specimen such as myself, however it might be true, and many have secretly thought this, while trying to find fault in my inherently flawless persona. So, bully for you, insightful, and unimpressed, you were right. Go celebrate with the bubbly. I on the other hand, will not celebrate, since I have known, and have known that I've known for as long as I can remember, therefore I am pretty unimpressed with my not so news. Anyway, go ahead and mope, it's perfectly acceptable, as long as you can turn off the faucet when the tub is full. So, I'm tired, and I'm old, and I'm gray, I'm a wolf, lean, and conniving, and shrewd, I watch, and I learn. Actually, I'm packing on the pounds like a meatpacker, and I learn in a controlled environment. So, what is the moral of this story ? Well, don't go into it, whatever it is, without a plan. Because, you'll end up lost, and lonely. I have failed, and I have been unsatisfied. I am on the warpath for contenment. However, I care too much about girls, and everything that comes with. "Hey, did you read Chaz's blog last night ?" " Yeah baby, he finally broke down and admitted his fatal flaw, we all knew he had one, cocky son of a gun " " Chaz is the Gangsta Ghandi" "Flava Flave" Alright, you know, water cooler talk is all rumble. Anyway, The End. Love you all. Conniving brought to you courtesy of Dictionary.com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-113566741244724636?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/113566741244724636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=113566741244724636' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/113566741244724636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/113566741244724636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/12/weave.html' title='Weave'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-112754152455207865</id><published>2005-09-24T00:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-01T02:13:43.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Audrey Hepburn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Moon River, wider than a mile, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm crossing you in style some day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;wherever you're going I'm going your way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Two drifters off to see the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's such a lot of world to see. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We're after the same rainbow's end-- &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;waiting 'round the bend, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my huckleberry friend, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Moon River and me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;  Hold my hand and together we will walk, and having no direction, we will have each other. You can hear these words when you listen to this song, there they are, traversing the melody, residing in the notes, the rythm washes over these vagabonds of time, and rinses them of hurt. They are remnants of truth and simplicity, yet they strive for heights unnatainable, limits set by the masses void of vision, they do not look through their eyes, nor the eyes of others, they see only with the fervor of their beliefs, the inevitable truth for those who seek. They see what we would all see, if we had the courage to live.&lt;/div&gt;  Life, it's all we are given, we are life, and life is us, how would we know what life should be like, what it could be like, had we not lived. Find God, for that is where life resides.&lt;br /&gt;  I want to be a mariachi, a short passionate man with an overgrown moustache, mad fast fingers, and an abiding love for salsa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-112754152455207865?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/112754152455207865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=112754152455207865' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/112754152455207865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/112754152455207865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/09/audrey-hepburn.html' title='Audrey Hepburn'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-112166903805891600</id><published>2005-07-18T00:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T01:50:21.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eternity</title><content type='html'>I feel like blogging. Writing actually. Today I came to blows with my intense desire for perfection, I have realized that I don't appreciate when anyone is better than me at anything, in fact I loathe it, and I truly believe I could be the best at anything, it's blatantly selfish and uncaring, and it's driving me up a wall. I think our minds unconsciously protect our egos, they keep us from trying things, telling us that we're nervous, or we're to tired, useless excuses, in order to keep us from the impending imperfection. Ingenious. I don't know where my life is headed, I want to be a writer, and yet I don't think I could handle the strain it would put on my mind, I think too much, in fact I might not think ever again, intellect is useless, it means nothing in the end, maybe people shouldn't act like they have any, intellect is a great ego booster, and yet consequently it gives the boosted a sense of egotism, which is unbearable, it makes you want to move to cambodia, and get in touch with your chi, and meet the Dalai Lama, and shave your head, driving yourself to insanity, and upon arrival to the institution you discover the Dalai Lama is the house card dealer . Anyway, I'm aloof when it comes to women, I want to marry them all, I hear that some Mormons in New Mexico still actively practice polygamy, polygamists are just guys who could never make a decision, you have to feel for them in a way. Camp is looming, I'm struggling with my newly minted immense poularity, and the toll it takes on my spirit, I often calm myself down after long days of being chased by giddy young girls, and followed by impressionable little boys at camp, by wildly dancing to a song of my invention, and some hearty kosher gangster rapping with Justin Kovanis. I am nervous like Maria Shriver when Arnold wants a hug, she doesn't want to be crushed, me neither, I think my nervous energy fuels me, it makes me spontaneous, and combustible when the dances come, but afterwards, the emotional drop-off sets in, and I get wildly depressive, that's the origin of Counselors Corner, Penman helping me through my insanity. I love that guy, he may be geeky, and short, but I feel uncommonly comfortable around him, I feel like he understands me, something sadly Tupac never felt. Anywho, My sappiness indicator is showing a major malfunction. Truly though, while I'm in the mood, I may be sarcastic out the wazoo, and make fun of all of you, but if I didn't have my friends, I'd be a wreck, I live vicariously through all of you, my friends are a part of me, Donald Trump would fire me for that kind of sad emotional display. I'm worried that I don't cry enough anymore, maybe I've become entirely insensitive. Hopefully not. I don't know if I have a creative bone in my body. People don't take me seriously anymore, I tell girls wildly complimentary things all the time, with a flair that would make Shakespeare proud, and they just laugh them off, it's not the cat's meow, suffice it to say. I was contemplating today, marriage in particular, it seems to me that you need to make an effort to be the best possible person for your spouse, you should come into a marriage with the intention of never letting your wife down, and all the tools needed to fulfill that purpose, to do otherwise would be selfish. Chivalry is out like Cher, but somebody needs to bring it back, all things that embody respect and a thoughtful and unselfish approach to life should be encouraged. I love nostalgia. Anyway, I feel pretty farcical about being so serious, and sappy, and for using the word sappy, but who cares, there's a Donkey in numerous movies and he's probably going to bite. I'll end with the most beautiful song ever thought of, in fact it only has 2 lines, but they carry infinite wisdom, James and I were oft inspired by the unkempt beauty reflected in the lines of our greatest hit. "I want a Big Mac girl when I grow up, Her name can be Daisy or Buttercup." Beautiful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-112166903805891600?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/112166903805891600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=112166903805891600' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/112166903805891600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/112166903805891600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/07/eternity.html' title='Eternity'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-112071374483871097</id><published>2005-07-06T23:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T00:22:24.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Myanmar</title><content type='html'>He smelt the coffee, as he crept closer he noticed that the object seemed to be getting larger, a conundrum to be sure, his head was furrowed from thought, he thought about the discrimnation against overly small south koreans, about how his mothers soup always contained a dash too much pepper, and and about how he had always been attracted to muscular scottish women, he had set out on this epic journey, a journey that could only be described as epic, in order to find himself, and now he was about to find something more, maybe something that dealt intricately with the depths of his being, or maybe.... A life sized portrait of John Candy !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been ridiculouly uncreative as of late, I have nothing on which to exercise my brainpower, it's quite possibly the most frustrating thing since the third installment of the Anne of Green Gables video series, which was highly dissapointing, yet one must add that it was moving in its own way. As always I will add that even though I have been called a manly farmer, I am still quite a woman, sad, sad. I miss everyone, and of late, I've particularly been missing the jolly company of one Marlin Bowman, so it might be said that I have caught the aging hunter spirit of Gina Gosse, she's a tiger if you ask me ! Anyway, I'm much too philosophical for my own good, I'm an old man. Funny how you can be an old man and a woman at 15, well, everybody's a bit odd I guess&lt;em&gt;. If you read this blog with an English accent in mind it will greatly help your experience&lt;/em&gt;. So much for me trying to be funny. I bought a Toad the Wet Sprocket tape and it was brilliant, there's this new guy Amos Lee with the smoothest sound you've ever heard, beautiful stuff. I feel ridiculously good right now, I don't know why. I think I have contracted a semi-chronich fear of dating, I don't know if I would have one thing to say, it would probably be pretty funny, but not from my perspective I suppose. Penman was always a tad too good looking to be on the market for long, though one has to wonder if he was aided in his courtship by a boost from his old friend caffeine. I've got the corner now Penman, Charles Solomon- Marital Advice Expert, it'll do you a world of good. Oh well, I don't have the stamina to keep going, so to all you men and women, or tigers even, Adios ! Oh, I'm not a fairy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-112071374483871097?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/112071374483871097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=112071374483871097' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/112071374483871097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/112071374483871097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/07/myanmar.html' title='Myanmar'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111484066327662560</id><published>2005-04-30T00:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:39:15.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Golden slumbers</title><content type='html'>If my titles had anything remotely to do with my posts, it would be a bit silly. I think maybe I get caught up in being too artistic, or too original, and it gets me away from the real meaningful things. No, I'm not still talking about my titles. I wish I was more focused, but to be focused, ultimately, I would have to have a plan, and well, I don't. Maybe if I was focused, I could get things done, and make positive progress like the pilgrims. But I think that by staying unfocused I keep myself hopeful, and positive, in a Don Quixote sort of way, for, if I were focused I fear I would be overwhelmed by the amount of life, the amount of moments, memories, and time that I have almost unconsciously wasted. Also, I am the biggest gossip in history, I know it's a shocking statement, but it's true ! There are so many reasons to be inspired, so many reasons to do the right thing, and not near as many reasons to do the wrong. So why do we have such a hard time doing the right thing ? Who knows, but I know that we can't do it alone, and maybe we should help others in this process, we all need help whether we recognize it or not, our problems seem so much simpler when we have someone to help us through them. I think the reason that most of the world is destined to fail, is that people are afraid of helping others, are afraid of leaving themselves vulnerable, maybe we don't have enough trust, who knows, but we have to embrace the akwardness of life, the uncomfortability, in order to change, in order to better not just ourselves, but others, the people we come in contact with. We can't not do something because it is unfamiliar, or uncomfortable to us, we have to strive to be the best possible person that it is in us to be, and we can never be that person, if we don't take action to become him or her. Our lives affect so many aspects of others lives, we can't just be good people, we have to actively help others, and help ourselves, we have to focus on what is important, we have to start living our lives the way they should be lived, and stop watching our time slip away. Every moment we lose is a moment we can never regain. Where is my mojo, I really have no idea. Golden slumbers fill your eyes, smiles awake when you rise...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111484066327662560?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111484066327662560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111484066327662560' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111484066327662560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111484066327662560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/04/golden-slumbers.html' title='Golden slumbers'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111385097818725630</id><published>2005-04-18T14:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:38:59.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>esto es un retrato de una cal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/27/5265/1024/lime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/27/5265/320/lime.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:8;"&gt;Handmade in Brazil&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111385097818725630?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111385097818725630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111385097818725630' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111385097818725630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111385097818725630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/04/esto-es-un-retrato-de-una-cal.html' title='esto es un retrato de una cal'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111372899773927948</id><published>2005-04-17T04:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:38:29.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm talking about you</title><content type='html'>I am inspired by beautiful women.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111372899773927948?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111372899773927948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111372899773927948' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111372899773927948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111372899773927948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/04/im-talking-about-you.html' title='I&apos;m talking about you'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111369627427364811</id><published>2005-04-16T18:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:38:11.896-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The unbearable lightness of being</title><content type='html'>Charles - Charles, are you ever posting again&lt;br /&gt;Charles - It's a mystery to me&lt;br /&gt;Charles - On a lighter note, I'm now a legend, and the first, that I know of, Honorary Penman, Moluf schmoluf !Although gaining this distinction took me asking for it, but I'm comfortable with that, so why shouldn't you be. Oh, I'm thinking about writing romantic prose, not, but man couldn't I, smoke being romantic, look what it's done for me. And no matter what Annette says, she's not a hippie, that's disgraceful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111369627427364811?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111369627427364811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111369627427364811' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111369627427364811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111369627427364811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/04/unbearable-lightness-of-being.html' title='The unbearable lightness of being'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111334134318143567</id><published>2005-04-12T16:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:37:52.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shimmer</title><content type='html'>Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooh. I was reading through a magazine, today, it advises "At, present Cuba remains off-limits to Americans, but if you're crazy enough to find your way there, the romance may be well worth the risks." Great advice. They also supply you with a 3 month calendar, pookyeh ! Anywho, enough idiocy for the moment, I'm sick of being serious, I mean it, I want to go scream, and do an Indian war dance, or go do a triple somersault-backflip-off the deep end, I can't even do a front roll, what ? School is fun. Well, no. I need to develop a personality, this is killing me. Counselors corner, Penman ? I've decided that I'm going to climb Everest, just for the sake of doing something. I want to shimmer, I want to shine, I want to radiate...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111334134318143567?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111334134318143567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111334134318143567' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111334134318143567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111334134318143567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/04/shimmer.html' title='Shimmer'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111319052145877227</id><published>2005-04-10T22:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:37:35.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cosmo</title><content type='html'>Again, haha. I was pondering over lifes persistent questions, when I realized how little we ever listen to what's right within us, or God for that matter, an example, if you will, ministers often point out that we shouldn't watch movies with inappropriate content, even if we think we can handle it, and we write it down in our notes, and we take it in, and might even vow to change, but we don't, ever, we might even go out that night and watch one. What are we thinking, I know I've done this, we all have, do we even listen, what we're doing is wrong, and yet we keep on doing it, why, and it's not just an isolated case, guys know they aren't supposed to look upon girls in the wrong way, and yet however well they might hide it, they still do, we know it's wrong, why do we do it, there is no logic in it. It's hard, sure, but if we keep close to god, if we seek him and ask for his help, he'll give it to us, it's all about self control, isn't it, we have little self control when it comes to doing things we want to do, and the only way we can gain self control is by seeking God, and by trying our hardest to do what is right at all times, maybe we're afraid that if we do this we can't have any fun, but if we don't do this it will tear us up inside, do you ever feel that guilt for doing what is wrong, I know I do, is our fun worth that guilt, is it worth possibly losing a spot in the kingdom, or even if we do make it, it seems to me that the more wrong we do, the lesser our position will be in the kingdom, is it worth sacrificing that for our pleasure, hopefully not. We have to listen to God. We like to think that we're better than most people in the world, their actions are sickening at times, and yet on a fundamental level, oftentimes we're not that different, we just hide it better. It's scary to think that we're anything like some of those people, because we shouldn't be, and we have it in us to be so much better. Let's get it together, before we don't have the time to. Oh, the craziness !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111319052145877227?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111319052145877227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111319052145877227' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111319052145877227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111319052145877227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/04/cosmo.html' title='Cosmo'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11602314.post-111147456373068637</id><published>2005-03-22T00:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T11:36:46.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uno</title><content type='html'>First post. I'm going insane, it's a thought that often crosses my mind, no, not really insane, just temporary loss of sanity, but insane nevertheless. Ignore the whole internal contradiction of the preceding sentence. Here are some thoughts, I don't know if I've ever fully understood what's going on at any time in my life, everything that's happened, I don't know why, and that's to be expected, but go deeper, do you feel mad at yourself for not feeling enough, do you still care about the trivial things, are you any better or worse, does life matter to you, or is it a routine, do you have any real hope that tomorrow will be better, I know that all too often the answers to all of these questions is no, why are we the way we are, will we ever change ? Even when I was up in Wisconsin last week to mourn the death of a true friend, the only real feelings I had besides the ones of loss, and sadness, that I felt at the funeral, were "wow, Sarah Gosse is really attractive", or something to that extent, I was up there to mourn the loss of someone I loved, and yet besides the funeral, all I could think of was, does my hair look alright, or another Thia Difley/ Mike Thomas/ Chris Reed/ Moody brothers joke, or I wish this girl liked me, or some other harmless, yet altogether meaningless thought. Do I only care about myself, I don't think so, but I am in danger of becoming that way, I am doing nothing with my life, I have a constant fear of failure, concerning everything, I have all these dreams, all this potential, and yet I see know way of fulfilling them, or it. God has given me so much more than most, and yet I have done so little with it, I guess I'm just sick of myself. I have to change, I will change, for there is nothing else for me to do. I will get closer to god, to my friends, and I will find a way to make things work, because I have taken everything for granted so far, and yet I have so much to be thankful for, and I don't have a really great line to put here. That's about it. And if you were wondering, I didn't have a point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11602314-111147456373068637?l=charlessolomon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/feeds/111147456373068637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11602314&amp;postID=111147456373068637' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111147456373068637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11602314/posts/default/111147456373068637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://charlessolomon.blogspot.com/2005/03/uno.html' title='Uno'/><author><name>charles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07782604783629662466</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://www.mexico-with-heart.com/mex-images/philosopher.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
