Noah Balboas Hangout

Fall in love with me, Sweet dream, Fall into the pits of hell, I danced with you, In the halls of rainbow, Lights streaming past our eyes, Spinning in circles, Your dress, purple and red, And me, with my innocent hazel eyes, And our hands, clasped, On that cold evening, Outside city hall, Let's stay awake all night, High on coffee, And talk, While the world spins. The sun appears at a time so precious, We can yawn and sneeze and cry, At the same time. I felt every emotion that night, Like death was upon me, And every man, Has walked atop my frail body, It's ready, For you, In the pits of hell, I look up to a light that shines, We climbed the pines, And read the signs. My eyes are burning likes crosses, Because of you.

everything is coming around in a circular motion, it seems.  i'm on my way to nashville for sri sri ravi shankar's talk; apparently it is his first time in nashville.  i'm quite a bit excited for it; every time i visit "the sri sri" i feel quite uplifted.  in the past, i have found that seeing him uplifts my spirit, in some way or another.  things are going well in school and i have been thinking a lot about my major.  it is currently math education.  mathematics is incredibly interesting and i am so fascinated by curves and slopes and change over time, but it is sometimes difficult relating those things to practicality in the real world.  i do also come to a better understanding of the fact that people are using these things a lot every day in the real world. i find it interesting how people use 'the real world' to describe life after graduation.  i sometimes wonder what my life will be after graduation.  the future is always in the back o...

I read some English today for class. One sentence struck me like a lightning bolt: "But as a starting point for the evolutionary model, they are politically expedient in constructing an empowering narrative unfolding toward disciplinary status and autonomy based on progressively increasing knowledge and professionalism. (54, Carino)" I thought and thought, And decided, I do not know what this sentence means. I'm taking a Calculus class, And thinking about this sentence, Reminds me of Derivation, A complicated technique whereby one, Derives the rate of change of a Variable, With respect, To a Variable. This sentence, to a certain extent, Is packed full of meaning, And has, metaphorically, with respect to Mathematicians, A slope, a curve, and a rate of change. Every word activates different neurons and fires them off in different directions, And the sentence, wholly, activates something in the reader. In other words, it has an effect, Just as any mathe...

Self maintenance; tis' a gift to be simple... tis' a gift to be free.  The words like echoes of a distant chorus blast through the vocal mystery cave of the girl in the room next door.  Like an angel's mystical secret of healing: the musical tones and inflections of "I'll Fly Away" and "This Little Light of Mine" knock on the gentle glass door that is my brain waves, reminding me of Peace.  Two knocks on a glass window, or a delicious carrot cake made with Love... These are the things that keep me alive another day.  Like various bee stings on the Flesh of a Self made man, I lay humble.  A woman who has been through hell and back; she stands humble. The night bears on as I lay here writing with my metaphorical stinger, a pen.  Calls from loving relatives like distant echoes drive me to the cave that is my mind: like, refraining from writing down curse words because of the fear of blended desolation and isolation; like the connection between Uncle ...

I don't know... I don't know... I don't know... and yet, in certain aspects of life, I have all of the knowledge I could ask for.  Everything is a beautiful aspect of creation and of God, and yet what is it that we are looking for in the way that with think and the way that we dream.  What is it, what is it?  And if you call me mad, well, call me mad.  I am writing the way that my soul forgoes, the way my soul becomes, and yet becomes not.  This is the way of the world and yet it is not, it is the way of man.  What do I know?  Or rather, what do I feel.  Is it the Love from your soul or is the reflection of the Love from my soul.  This, I do not know.  Right now, I feel as though I know nothing.  What even is Love?  What is Truth?  And when will I come to understand these terms and concepts? Part of me feels better, when I transcend words; these are words, what is the point?  The universe is much bigger, much greate...