Not Time's Fool

A blog that demonstrates the power of love, literature, travel, education, music, and irony through fresh and insightful entries. Experiences define who we are and will be. Rather than try to capture the moment of experience, this blog tries to release its essence. It would be remiss of me to assign one label or in any way limit this living, learning, and growing blog. Enjoy my breathing words!



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  1. Brighton Beach in the U.K.

    Brighton Beach in the U.K.

  2. Maui, Hawaii

    Maui, Hawaii

  3. Pike Place Market in Seattle, my future home

    Pike Place Market in Seattle, my future home

  4. Columbia River (Oregon)

    Columbia River (Oregon)

  5. "What Jesus meant was this. He said to man, ‘You have a wonderful personality. Develop it. Be your self. Don’t imagine that your perfection lies in accumulating or possessing external things. Your perfection is inside of you. If only you could realize that, you would not want to be rich. Ordinary riches can be stolen from a man. Real riches cannot. In the treasury-house of your soul, there are infinitely precious things, that may not be taken from you. And so, try to shape your life that external things will not harm you…It is to be noted that Jesus never says that impoverished people are necessarily good, or wealthy people necessarily bad… What Jesus does say is that man reaches his perfection, not through what he has, not even through what he does, but entirely through what he is.’"

    From “The Soul of Man Under Socialism” by Oscar Wilde (1891)

  6. "I had been born in the working-class, and I was now, at the age of eighteen, beneath the point at which I had started. I was down in the cellar of society, down in the subterranean depths of misery about which is neither nice nor proper to speak. I was in the pit, the abyss, the human cesspool, the shambles and charnel-house of our civilization. This is the part of the edifice of society that society chooses to ignore… and I shall say only that the things I there saw gave me a terrible scare. I was scared into thinking. I saw the naked simplicities of the complicated civilization in which I lived. Life was a matter of food and shelter. In order to get food and shelter, men sold things. The merchant sold shoes, the politician sold his manhood, and the representative of the people, with exceptions, of course, sold his trust; while nearly all sold their honor. Women, too, whether on the street or in the holy bond of wedlock, were prone to sell their flesh. All things were commodities, all people bought and sold. The one commodity that labor had to sell was muscle…If I could not live on the parlor floor of society, I could, at any rate, have a try at the attic. It was true, the diet there was slim, but the air at least was pure. So I resolved to sell no more muscle, and to become a vendor of brains… I was in touch with great souls who exalted flesh and spirit over dollars and cents, and to whom the thin wail of the starved slum child meant more than all the pomp and circumstance of commercial expansion and world empire."
    — From “What Life Means to Me” by Jack London (1905)
  7.  Trafalgar Square

     Trafalgar Square

  9. Rainy Days are Made for Play

    This is my fourth week in London, and I can affirmatively say that I’ve fallen deeply in love. I never expected to fall in love with anyone of anything within a four-week span, but clearly I have. I’m here studying abroad, and sadly, I only have three weeks left. I never want to leave here regardless of the sometimes-gloomy weather. Last night my roommates and I were caught in a rainstorm on Brick Lane, which is in the East End of London. Four of us ventured over there at around 3:30 p.m. and didn’t return to our flat until about 1:00 a.m. During the day, Sunday merchants, delicious smell of herbs and spices, and ethnic music made for a culturally rich experience, and when night fell, we escaped the cold and rain in a creatively cool pub/ club called The Big Chill: I highly recommend it! We met some very interesting people: two native brits and their friend who grew up in South Africa, four young Irish guys who moved from Limerick to London, a very personable Australian chick, a group of British guys in their late 20s looking for a fun night, a group of singing Italians, and other quirky, hipsteresque-like people. As the hours slipped, we all grew intoxicated and befriended each another. Anyway, I was a bit distracted, and now it’s 3:00 a.m.—time for sleep. Carpe Diem!