An English Writer's Mind

In here I wanted to share an essay I wrote about Thomas Hobbes and how if he would have lived in a period where England wasn't in a civil war, he would have viewed the same results. Social Fragmentation     Many would state that war reveals just how primitive humanity really is. When an individual has views different than those of one's own, conflict often arises. Thomas Hobbes argued that humanity is savage by nature, thus in the need of governing as the only other alternative is chaos. Within this governing state it is in the best interest of all people to follow the rule of the head that controls, unless it is at the cost of lives. Only then should the people rise to reestablish order and end tyranny. There is reason to believe that Thomas Hobbes' views were influenced by the English Civil War and the rift in religious beliefs. Still, even if Thomas Hobbes had lived in a time of peace, there is reason to believe that the concept of Leviathan would have still existed...

Wow! I just got accepted to Sonoma State. I'm both excited and conflicted.

I received some really great news I received from my campus. I was asked and offered a position on being a judge for a poetry and short story competition held by the campus community. It's a great add-on to my resume, and I'm looking forward to seeing many people's work.

St. Patrick's Day A holiday Where all are content and merry. From coastal bay To inland way All faces are flushed to cherry. So give away Your joyful ray To all this anniversary. From Bombay To an Irish alley Let make it extraordinary.

Puffins, Puffins,             Where do you go? Puffins, Puffins,             So foul to swallow. With your beak, I was sparked with curiosity;            I followed with delight, With words not meek, you are an atrocity,           You left me to gripe. Puffins, Puffins,             Why did you come? Puffins, Puffins,             Truth is, we are done. You cannot swim, you shrivel and prune,           The taste I cannot bare, Like a trash bin, rotting food in June;           Never again, this I swear.

It was the time in September's date, That I decided to go upstate.                                   It wasn't fate That I visited the golden gate; But twas a result from a frozen wake. How ruthless the darkness set That it would not let me forget Reasons for my waking sweat. Broken apart, the ties were severed, It was the end of this endeavor.                     Left weak as a feather Bound and feeling under the weather; Intruding past, with nothing to tether. Hope did come to make its way In showing forth a better day Halting thoughts from going stray. Death's bony fingers pulled me to hell, But friends helped me get well,                    No longer will I dwell And what caused it all to fail; I escaped my mind. My prison. My jail.

The Darkest Hour The darkest hour doesn't come in the dead of night, But the moment we lose the will to fight Where we forget what is right And lose sight Which then brings a blight That takes away the light that shines bright Causing fright that leads to hate and eventually spite. Our darkest hour comes when we lose hope. When we can no longer cope Like a tightrope Afraid to fall down the slope So we sit in darkness, in agony, and mope.

The trickles of rain cast upon my body, That feeling of cleanliness and refreshing zest; I scrub gently, with soap upon my breast. When the droplets stop, I feel an oddity. Why now must the sharks of brown cry? The moment that I far from dry, A true inconvenience To allow this deliverance.