First thing’s first, I was locked out of my account because I forgot where I put my list of codes to log in (typical) and the text code feature wasn’t working, so yeah, I couldn’t post during Christmas week. A shout-out to Kris, the Happiness Engineer that got me back in. You rock, dude.
I know 2014 has been absolute nonsense to some of us, sprinkled with the good things that propelled us forward. It’s 100% a possibility that is an understatement for many of people. Just thinking of last year, how close it is to this one still, rouses up some upsetting feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t like it one bit. Personally, sure I was conflicted here and there but on a more general level, a more connected-to-humanity-level I am disgusted with the senseless loss of life born of ignorance and hate, saddened and hollowed with the people lost from the air disasters and the boat ones and the train ones and those guys in the stampede in Beijing on New year’s day.
I don’t know what it takes to be someone to govern a country, city or town but it has to take a lot of brass. Every leader has his or her own agenda that affects ‘the people’ but I reflect especially on Russia and Ukraine, on whose affairs I’m not qualified on any level to speak on with any authority but that of a concerned and curious outsider, I ask not only those two leaders but all those involved in peace making in that conflict to do one thing: look at the people.
Yes, aid has pouring in as best as it could and I am at peace inside that people sill care enough (what does that tell about my outlook on humans? A post for another time probably). Again, I have not a clue about the mind numbing effort it takes to organize and make treaties and attend talks and make decisions affecting the lives of billions. But for a moment, can we all just step back from the political and religious extremism (I am not pointing fingers here) that usually start all this clusterfu-
Look, just step back, okay? Boys and men, and the girls and women in the battlefield. No longer fresh faced and ready. Angry and blank. Hot and cold. And look at the children huddled under rippling blue tarp in a hastily put together shelter some places familiar and those others foreign, alien; lost family members, festering wounds, chapped lips and spasming bellies, meticulously portioned food; mothers and fathers sick with worry, elders with bleak eyes and maps etched deep into their faces, souls ready to skedaddle out from their ears.
I am not saying that these leaders aren’t seeing because they most obviously doRead More »
The night I’ve been cloaked under has lasted so long. The seasons come and go before my eyes, like watching the world go around from my bedroom window. I’ve driven people away yet I need them close. I … I am a tangled mess, like old hair stuck in the bristles of a brush.
A snowflake tentatively approaches me, as if knowing that I’m too hot to touch but still wants to feel the burn. That impulsive snowflake melts before landing on my face. I’m too hot even for me to bear.
And when the cool fall breeze breathes along my body, it chafes at my skin.
Who will love me when the morning nears? After the witnessed darkness of my nights? Who will love me with the sun decides to shine, illuminating the drying trail of tears? Your beautiful face comes to me shining in the pale moonlight.
Do you think I have anything left to give? Does that molten emotion still flow in the husk of me? It’s a question you’ll have to be brave enough to seek. But I’d swear it to you, your memory is what’s been keeping me alive. Come closer and let me gather you near. Come a little bit closer like you used to do. How else can I make you feel my love?
I’ll never claim to have an organized mind so it may come as no surprise that I still can’t sort out what to scratch about next. I find that it helps to amble aimlessly until I scan on some interesting bit as I breeze by the internal mental landscape of my head. Here goes.
Being young and having the means at the ready to be almost anything you want to be is, at it’s core, a depressing state. Oh, why I’m fortunate but even then life isn’t a field of daisies. It’s almost another year and I’m not at the least anxious in awaiting my A Levels results, it can’t be good. What do I want to be when I grow up? Am I grown up? Age is no definite marker in maturity but I believe I’m almost there. I’m good with my hands. I’m my family’s masseuse and I’m constantly being told by a few members and some friends that I would do very well professionally.
I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot but certain persons don’t think it suitable for me. I have to play to my strengths and consider advice as it comes my way. I’m beginning to even bore myself here with all this dreary talk of my future, but it is what it is. I want to have a little book shop on the side whilst teaching English, eventually as a foreign language. I want to have a tight group of friends who’ll love the person I am despite my earthen scale of faults. Perhaps I watch Friends too much.