Friday, August 13, 2010
All I think, this is grace. This is grace.
I am captivated.
Cocooned in your beauty.
In your smile. Your laugh.
Time passes but my hands don’t see it.
Don’t feel it.
All they feel is you.
You’ll softly graze my cheek.
I’ll patiently extend my fingers.
I’ll cradle you.
For you are delicate.
I’ll breathe you in.
For you are air.
As the light hits your face.
All I think.
This is grace.
Monday, August 2, 2010
For some reason when I reread this post to myself, it seems like it’s full of complaints but let me clarify this. This is what I want. I want to live. I want to feel… I want to feel something other than anger. I say I’m in transition because I’m becoming the person I am meant to be. I take a glance at myself in the mirror. I see the old me underneath those newly developed wrinkles on my forehead and around my eyes. Recently, I’ve been thinking. Recently, I’ve been laughing. Even though I am older, and maybe a little bit wiser, I still see myself. A more distinguished me. But with change comes fear. And with fear comes self-destruction in one way or another. Everyone is involved in sabotaging their own lives every once in a while, especially when things are strange and unfamiliar. The strong are those who are able to acknowledge it, accept it and move on with their mysteriously wrinkled faces.
I am in transition.
I am in unfamiliarity.
I am in uncharted territory.
I am in fear.
I am in pain.
But I am in strength.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I can’t exactly put to words the way I feel (or don’t feel) tonight. The one word that remotely comes close is indifference. A lack of feeling has swept over me, although not because of anything that has come to pass. Usually, I find people irritating. I find people insoluble. I find that certain people affect me in different ways. But tonight, tonight I find indifference. This could be a good thing, depending on the person. Because the truth is, the opposite of love is not hate it is the lack of feeling. To hate is to admit to some kind of emotional bond to that person, that place or that object. Hate, I’ve realized, is something I am familiar with. This, I am not proud of and in my efforts to change I need to understand where my hatred stems from (something I’m working on). To love is quite obvious, although I have yet to come to terms with, or to even slightly understand what love really is. But love can be associated with a variety of symptoms as can hatred. And what we seem to know, or elude ourselves in believing, of the concepts of love and of hatred has only been a construction of what we’re “supposed to” believe…
Alas, I digress.
But if I continue with this thought process: if concepts, in general are a construction of society’s doing, maybe indifference is something I really know nothing about. It is told to me that it’s an absence of feeling, or concern, or interest. You are in the state of being indifferent. But if I feel it, can it not also be an emotion? Hmm… a paradox indeed.
I find it interesting that these thoughts come to me at hours I should be asleep…
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I’m not usually one who likes to make speculations about certain issues pertaining to society in general and certain people specifically but sometimes.. I just can’t help myself. Recently, I’ve encountered a plethora of teenagers in a variety of environments, whether it is at a high school, at work or around town. Now, one trait most of them seem to share is apathy. I see these teenagers on Long Island, excluding a selective few, who are given everything they want and need, everything they want and don’t need and everything they don’t even want. This in it of itself is not necessarily a bad thing because I know my parents wanted to make sure I was comfortably happy with my life, however one thing that separates me from a lot of these teenagers today is that I a.) Greatly appreciate all of the sweat my parents put into working to make sure my sisters and I had everything we needed and basically everything we wanted (And still to this day make sure my parents know we value their efforts) and b.) Even though they worked hard FOR us, they also worked hard WITH us, instilling a sense of work ethic and responsibility. I know that it doesn’t really matter WHAT you do but HOW you do it. If I work mopping floors, as long as I sweat doing it, I know I’ve worked hard. My grandparents, on both sides, didn’t go to college, didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and still built a foundation for their family, still kept at it even though days were long and exhausting, still had time to make sure their children knew what it meant to work and to be proud of something that they were a part of. My parents have now transferred that sense of accountability onto us kids. I am deeply saddened by teenagers who don’t take their education seriously, who don’t work hard for the things they receive and who don’t appreciate everything their parents have done for them. I am also deeply saddened by teenagers who aren’t involved in what’s going on around them. Here’s my advice to you all. GET INVOLVED. Life doesn’t change or get better by sitting on your ass. Sooner or later you need to make the decision of whether or not you want to be the leg in which society is proud to stand on, or the blemish in which society only prepares to hopefully scrub away.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
You hear a song and it brings you back to a moment in time where things seemed so right.
It brings you back to a person who you confided in, maybe for a number of years, maybe only for a short period of time, maybe just for that moment.
Your eyes capture a simple shape, a figure in the dark, a color that triggers a memory of the way his face curved, the way her hair glowed at dusk, the way it was when you felt a presence next to you.
Your nose catches an aroma, a scent that you were never able to put words to and involuntarily stimulates the nerves in your head, in your fingertips, and sends signals directly to your heart.
It sends you on a journey back in time to a place you may or may not want to go.And even now I wonder why...moments that seemed so insignificant in my life at one point are now moments that I can't seem to forget.