Everyone gossips, it’s a fact of life. You get frustrated, you get overwhelmed. You need to vent. You simply need to get all of your pent up frustration out. But when the gossip turns malicious, that’s when we’ve got a problem.
You see, confiding in your close friend, family member, etc. is normal. “Venting” to everyone you get the chance to speak with is not.
Why do people feel the need to discuss things that do not pertain to them? Or affect their lives in any way? Are their lives really that boring that they just have to discuss the lives of others? If so, to those individuals, I recommend subscribing to a news outlet of some sort, or even better becoming acquainted with a hobby.
Being a listening ear is completely acceptable, it’s human nature to have to talk out what’s been bothering you. It’s one of the characteristics of a good friend, to be able to lend a listening ear. Give advice when appropriate, and generally be someone your friend can vent to. But that’s where it stops. When your friend comes to you for support, because they’re so upset they just have to get it all out, that’s where it ends. It is not your right as the listening ear, to go and relay this bit of “juicy gossip” or “interesting news” to another friend, who will in turn relay it to another, until the entire East Coast is aware of what has occurred.
It is your job as a listening ear to LISTEN, and not in turn SPEAK to someone about the subject other than your venting friend.
The sad thing is, this type of issue should have ended in high school, where petty gossip and idle talk was a dime a dozen. But when this issue continues on into University, and afterwards, well Houston, we have a problem.
It’s these same people who repeat information, and go onto embellish it who are so often complaining about drama, and “bad friends”. It’s these same people who are evidently so bored with their lives that they can think of nothing better to do than spread negative information, and subsequent bad energy into the universe. These are the people who fill their days with bad habits, just to get by. Who love themselves as much as they hate themselves.
I’m no Mother Theresa, but I live by the general rule “Do unto others, as you would have them do to you”. This means that if I do not want others gossiping about me, I will not gossip about others. I will not repeat information just because it’s interesting, or will spur conversation. If I have nothing to talk about other than other peoples lives then there’s something wrong. I would like to think that I’m educated enough, and decent enough to discuss other matters.
I can’t change these people, all I can do is pray for them, and send positive thoughts their way. I sincerely hope the best for all of the individuals whose lives are seemingly so empty and boring, that they are led to such empty discussions. I feel sorry for whoever raised them, and I feel even more sorry for the children they will raise.
Rant, done.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Dear A, Part Five
Dear A,
It’s our anniversary today. Not of the day we got married, but of the day we fell in love, and knew it.
I always cared more about this anniversary, than the one that everyone else had celebrated with us. Today's date is one just you and I shared, that no one else had known about.
You often claimed not to be romantic, but the simplicity of our celebrations are what touched me the most. I wonder if you’d be able to guess my favorite anniversary celebration.
It was the first time we were going to celebrate it since moving away from home. Since boarding the plane, and taking the leap into our new life, completely away from our families and friends. But we were oddly calm, entirely at peace with the decision we had made. We had acknowledged that difficulties that we would have to face, but knew it was going to be a mere bump in the road.
We were starting new chapters in our lives, and we had turned the page together. I was so excited to start my new job at the University, and you couldn’t wait to meet all of the partners at the firm you were joining. We knew that this life was what we needed at this point of time. There would be plenty of time for everything else later. Why wouldn’t there be?
The day of our anniversary was a few weeks after we had finally finished moving into our new place. The walls were freshly painted. Do you remember how much you hated the grey color that I chose for the accent wall? I still think you secretly ended up loving it. Everything was done, except for a few minor additions that had yet to been decided.
I remember the day exactly. You called me from work, around the usual time that you did, and told me you’d be home early. You told me we could have our lunch at home, but afterwards the rest of the day was planned. I hung up with a smile on my face, and hurried to finish up preparations for the meal I had been planning.
You came home, we ate, and then had tea by the window that we always opened for fresh air.
Suddenly you grabbed my hand and pulled me up, “lets go.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll give you three guesses!”
I remember concentrating very hard, “hmm the park??”
“Nope.”
“okay give me a clue!”
“That’s cheating B, you have to guess!”
“I am guessing.” I pouted and concentrated really hard.
“The lake!!!!” I was so sure about this.
“Wrong again.” You said as your lips brushed my fingertips. “One more guess.”
By then we had left the apartment. We were walking in the hallway, I clapped my hands when I suddenly realized where we must be going.
“The campus!!” I was so sure, for some reason that seemed perfectly reasonable to me.
“Uhhh, B, I know you love your University but it’s not exactly romantic to take you to your workplace on our anniversary.”
I pouted, “Fine.”
You ended up taking me to the zoo of all places, which thinking back I should have guessed. I had always loved visiting the zoo of any place we visited while on vacation.
Remembering that day is difficult for me to do. I’ll continue in my next letter.
Until next time,
Your B
It’s our anniversary today. Not of the day we got married, but of the day we fell in love, and knew it.
I always cared more about this anniversary, than the one that everyone else had celebrated with us. Today's date is one just you and I shared, that no one else had known about.
You often claimed not to be romantic, but the simplicity of our celebrations are what touched me the most. I wonder if you’d be able to guess my favorite anniversary celebration.
It was the first time we were going to celebrate it since moving away from home. Since boarding the plane, and taking the leap into our new life, completely away from our families and friends. But we were oddly calm, entirely at peace with the decision we had made. We had acknowledged that difficulties that we would have to face, but knew it was going to be a mere bump in the road.
We were starting new chapters in our lives, and we had turned the page together. I was so excited to start my new job at the University, and you couldn’t wait to meet all of the partners at the firm you were joining. We knew that this life was what we needed at this point of time. There would be plenty of time for everything else later. Why wouldn’t there be?
The day of our anniversary was a few weeks after we had finally finished moving into our new place. The walls were freshly painted. Do you remember how much you hated the grey color that I chose for the accent wall? I still think you secretly ended up loving it. Everything was done, except for a few minor additions that had yet to been decided.
I remember the day exactly. You called me from work, around the usual time that you did, and told me you’d be home early. You told me we could have our lunch at home, but afterwards the rest of the day was planned. I hung up with a smile on my face, and hurried to finish up preparations for the meal I had been planning.
You came home, we ate, and then had tea by the window that we always opened for fresh air.
Suddenly you grabbed my hand and pulled me up, “lets go.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll give you three guesses!”
I remember concentrating very hard, “hmm the park??”
“Nope.”
“okay give me a clue!”
“That’s cheating B, you have to guess!”
“I am guessing.” I pouted and concentrated really hard.
“The lake!!!!” I was so sure about this.
“Wrong again.” You said as your lips brushed my fingertips. “One more guess.”
By then we had left the apartment. We were walking in the hallway, I clapped my hands when I suddenly realized where we must be going.
“The campus!!” I was so sure, for some reason that seemed perfectly reasonable to me.
“Uhhh, B, I know you love your University but it’s not exactly romantic to take you to your workplace on our anniversary.”
I pouted, “Fine.”
You ended up taking me to the zoo of all places, which thinking back I should have guessed. I had always loved visiting the zoo of any place we visited while on vacation.
Remembering that day is difficult for me to do. I’ll continue in my next letter.
Until next time,
Your B
Monday, July 29, 2013
The End, of the Greatest Good
The following poem is dedicated to my beloved city of Philadelphia. The city I became me in, during the four most important years of my life. Philadelphia breathed life into me, when before I was surviving on shallow breaths. It taught me more than just what I learned in University. It taught me about life, and loss, and love. It gave me friendships I’ll have forever, and memories that will always be in my heart. I couldn’t have asked for more. Philly, I love you.
You gave me a life, I didn’t know I was missing.
You breathed life into parts of me I didn’t know were existing.
You pumped knowledge into parts of me that had been walking unaware.
You explained to me life lessons that I’d go onto share.
You were gentle and forgiving.
You were helpful, and you were kind.
You gave second chances, and third warnings.
You open my eyes, and made me realize, I had previously been blind.
You laughed at my naivety.
You pushed me harder to explain.
Parts of life that I had never understood.
Parts of friendships that were never good.
You made me understand that if life could, it would.
That if it was time, I’d get it.
If it wasn’t I wasn’t meant for it.
That if I wasn’t meant for it.
Something better would come.
Something better would get done.
By me, and by us.
By life if I would just trust.
I learned to trust you.
I learned to love you.
I learned to adore the dirtiest corners of you.
I lusted after you.
I warmed to you.
I grew in you.
I became me for you.
You taught me to myself.
You gave me to myself.
You gave me more than I had ever imagined.
But all good things come to an end.
And you were the end, of the greatest good.
You gave me a life, I didn’t know I was missing.
You breathed life into parts of me I didn’t know were existing.
You pumped knowledge into parts of me that had been walking unaware.
You explained to me life lessons that I’d go onto share.
You were gentle and forgiving.
You were helpful, and you were kind.
You gave second chances, and third warnings.
You open my eyes, and made me realize, I had previously been blind.
You laughed at my naivety.
You pushed me harder to explain.
Parts of life that I had never understood.
Parts of friendships that were never good.
You made me understand that if life could, it would.
That if it was time, I’d get it.
If it wasn’t I wasn’t meant for it.
That if I wasn’t meant for it.
Something better would come.
Something better would get done.
By me, and by us.
By life if I would just trust.
I learned to trust you.
I learned to love you.
I learned to adore the dirtiest corners of you.
I lusted after you.
I warmed to you.
I grew in you.
I became me for you.
You taught me to myself.
You gave me to myself.
You gave me more than I had ever imagined.
But all good things come to an end.
And you were the end, of the greatest good.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
I loved you, in spite of you
I loved you, in spite of you.
I loved every aspect of your being.
I became fixated on the very curves that made you grumble with resentment.
I craved hearing the laugh you had such disdain for.
I wanted you to see the love I had.
I wanted you to look into my eyes and absorb the adoration that was contained within their murky depths.
I wished and hoped that you would see, and finally understand all that glowed from you.
I thought that if I tried hard enough. If I said it enough. If I showed you enough...
I thought that I would be enough.
I thought that I could erase the years of self-doubt that you had become accustomed to.
I thought I could show you all the best parts of you.
I had the hope that, like pieces of a broken vase I would be able to glue the pieces back into one.
That in spite of the crevices that may show, you would be whole again.
But it wasn't enough.
Your shattered corners crumbled in, and your once shaky foundation completely came undone.
What remained were pieces I could not find matches for.
What was left for me was mere dust.
Mere shards of what once was.
I could not find pieces within the dust.
It was then that I knew that what was done, was final.
That all that was left for me, were a million little memories.
I scooped up the fine glass, the glimmers of sand, of what remained of the past. I let the particles sift through my now shaky hands.
The particles of what was.
What could have been.
I loved every aspect of your being.
I became fixated on the very curves that made you grumble with resentment.
I craved hearing the laugh you had such disdain for.
I wanted you to see the love I had.
I wanted you to look into my eyes and absorb the adoration that was contained within their murky depths.
I wished and hoped that you would see, and finally understand all that glowed from you.
I thought that if I tried hard enough. If I said it enough. If I showed you enough...
I thought that I would be enough.
I thought that I could erase the years of self-doubt that you had become accustomed to.
I thought I could show you all the best parts of you.
I had the hope that, like pieces of a broken vase I would be able to glue the pieces back into one.
That in spite of the crevices that may show, you would be whole again.
But it wasn't enough.
Your shattered corners crumbled in, and your once shaky foundation completely came undone.
What remained were pieces I could not find matches for.
What was left for me was mere dust.
Mere shards of what once was.
I could not find pieces within the dust.
It was then that I knew that what was done, was final.
That all that was left for me, were a million little memories.
I scooped up the fine glass, the glimmers of sand, of what remained of the past. I let the particles sift through my now shaky hands.
The particles of what was.
What could have been.
Dear A, Part Four
Dear A,
I wonder what you’d be doing right now if you were around. Would you still be working at the firm? Or would you have finally started your own business. The one you talked about tirelessly.
Would we still be living here? Or would you have had us move back home closer to our parents?
Would we have started a family by now? That question in particular makes me ache. It was my dream, our dream, and now it will never become a reality.
I will never get to see my little sons who look just like you run around in a field of wildflowers, getting dirt on their hands, and ruining their jeans. I will never get to hear our daughters with your eyes and caramel colored skin giggle with joy at the sight of you.
We won’t ever get to take them on the trip to Disneyland we always talked about on lazy Sundays.
You probably want to tell me that I can still have all of those things. That I can still have my messy little boys, and joyful daughters. That if I put myself out there, I’d be able to have a new start, a new future.
But you see, when you’ve planned something for so long, when you’ve had one dream and held onto it, given your hope to it, given your love to it. When you’ve invested as much into that one idea and concept, you can never move on to something else. You can never forget what you could have had, even it never really was.
I do not want to burden another with my sentiments. I do not want to have children, and face the disappointment when they do not have your eyes, your laugh, the crinkle of your nose. I don’t want to my disappointment to reflect upon them, and burden them with what cannot be undone.
I’m fine this way, really.
I still teach my classes. I engage with the students. I attend all my meetings. I return all my phone calls. I go to the store, and I buy what I need. I eat, and I drink, and I pray, and I sleep. It’s much better than I could have hoped for.
You’re probably wondering about my writing. I want to lie and tell you that I haven’t stopped. That my stories still get published. That I’m still asked to recite my poems at public venues. That I’ve kept on top of my website, and it’s weekly schedule.
I want to lie and tell you all of that. But you would know better. You would know that you were my muse, and that without you there’s nothing much left to say. These letters to you are all that I write now.
And that’s fine by me.
Until next time,
Your B
I wonder what you’d be doing right now if you were around. Would you still be working at the firm? Or would you have finally started your own business. The one you talked about tirelessly.
Would we still be living here? Or would you have had us move back home closer to our parents?
Would we have started a family by now? That question in particular makes me ache. It was my dream, our dream, and now it will never become a reality.
I will never get to see my little sons who look just like you run around in a field of wildflowers, getting dirt on their hands, and ruining their jeans. I will never get to hear our daughters with your eyes and caramel colored skin giggle with joy at the sight of you.
We won’t ever get to take them on the trip to Disneyland we always talked about on lazy Sundays.
You probably want to tell me that I can still have all of those things. That I can still have my messy little boys, and joyful daughters. That if I put myself out there, I’d be able to have a new start, a new future.
But you see, when you’ve planned something for so long, when you’ve had one dream and held onto it, given your hope to it, given your love to it. When you’ve invested as much into that one idea and concept, you can never move on to something else. You can never forget what you could have had, even it never really was.
I do not want to burden another with my sentiments. I do not want to have children, and face the disappointment when they do not have your eyes, your laugh, the crinkle of your nose. I don’t want to my disappointment to reflect upon them, and burden them with what cannot be undone.
I’m fine this way, really.
I still teach my classes. I engage with the students. I attend all my meetings. I return all my phone calls. I go to the store, and I buy what I need. I eat, and I drink, and I pray, and I sleep. It’s much better than I could have hoped for.
You’re probably wondering about my writing. I want to lie and tell you that I haven’t stopped. That my stories still get published. That I’m still asked to recite my poems at public venues. That I’ve kept on top of my website, and it’s weekly schedule.
I want to lie and tell you all of that. But you would know better. You would know that you were my muse, and that without you there’s nothing much left to say. These letters to you are all that I write now.
And that’s fine by me.
Until next time,
Your B
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Some Tips!
Some Tips to being a Decent Human Being:
1. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
2. Be kind.
3. Respect people regardless of what’s in their bank account, how attractive they are, or “who” they are.
4. Don’t judge.
5. Take pictures.
They’re the second best thing we have to rewinding to our past, and reliving our memories.
6. Forgive people.
Not for them, but for yourself, you don’t need any of that negative energy bottling up inside of you.
7. Smile at people.
It brightens their day.
8. When deciding on your life partner, ask yourself if you’d be proud to have a son/daughter like them.
9. Apologize. It really makes a difference.
10. Let the people around you know how much you mean to them. No one ever gets tired of hearing that they make a difference in another persons life.
11. Stand up for yourself. Don’t allow yourself to be made a victim, there’s a time and place to address someones degrading actions towards you. Trust me, it makes a difference.
12. Say thank you. When people hold the door open for you. When you get out of the car. When you get off a bus. When someone hands you a receipt. When someone helps you carry your bags. Be appreciative.
13. Know how to be a good listener.
14. Actions speak louder than words.
15. Help people when you can.
Not because you want something in return, but because it’s part of being a good person.
In reading this, some of you may have paused at certain points and disagreed. Maybe you think I’m not being realistic. But I truly believe we are all capable of these actions. They’re simple. And they would make the world a much better place to live in. It’s up to us to start a change. It starts with your actions, and continues. Pay it forward!
1. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
2. Be kind.
3. Respect people regardless of what’s in their bank account, how attractive they are, or “who” they are.
4. Don’t judge.
5. Take pictures.
They’re the second best thing we have to rewinding to our past, and reliving our memories.
6. Forgive people.
Not for them, but for yourself, you don’t need any of that negative energy bottling up inside of you.
7. Smile at people.
It brightens their day.
8. When deciding on your life partner, ask yourself if you’d be proud to have a son/daughter like them.
9. Apologize. It really makes a difference.
10. Let the people around you know how much you mean to them. No one ever gets tired of hearing that they make a difference in another persons life.
11. Stand up for yourself. Don’t allow yourself to be made a victim, there’s a time and place to address someones degrading actions towards you. Trust me, it makes a difference.
12. Say thank you. When people hold the door open for you. When you get out of the car. When you get off a bus. When someone hands you a receipt. When someone helps you carry your bags. Be appreciative.
13. Know how to be a good listener.
14. Actions speak louder than words.
15. Help people when you can.
Not because you want something in return, but because it’s part of being a good person.
In reading this, some of you may have paused at certain points and disagreed. Maybe you think I’m not being realistic. But I truly believe we are all capable of these actions. They’re simple. And they would make the world a much better place to live in. It’s up to us to start a change. It starts with your actions, and continues. Pay it forward!
Friday, July 26, 2013
Dear A, Part Three
Dear A,
I dreamt of us last night. It was the type of dream that seems so real, so tangible, that you wake up confused and disoriented. For a few blissful seconds I forgot everything that had happened. I forgot that you were no longer here.
It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve had an actual dream, as opposed to the consistent nightmares that creep into the night, into my mind. I’ve gotten used to the nightmares, as much as anyone can really get used to such a thing. It’s the type of complacent acceptance that comes with having no other choice. People are either forced to accept what they cannot change, or live in subsequent misery.
I dreamt of an ordinary day, shared between us. It was so completely normal which only enhanced my desire for it to be true. Those were my favorite days, the ones where no fuss was made, no thrill was searched for. Just complete and utter happiness at being able to share the day. The type of contentment that you cannot chase after, you just have to let it happen.
In my dream, we woke up to the sunlight filling the room. The light bouncing off the crystals in the chandelier in the center of the room. Casting glimmers of light and shine across the bed and walls, across my arms and your back.
You turned to me and smiled.
“What would you like to do today?”
“Let’s go for a walk, and head to the farmers market. We can pick up breakfast and breathe in some fresh air.”
We got dressed. It was slightly chilly so I paired a grey knee length dress with black tights and flats. Threw on my favorite quilted leather jacket, and my purse.
You were dressed in your standard uniform of fitted dark wash jeans, sweater, and loafers.
We headed out, we grabbed coffee on our way to the market. Since we both thought it better to have a bit of caffeine in our systems for the walk. You locked hands with me.
“Why are your hands always so cold?”
I giggled. “Haven’t you gotten used to them by now? We’re the perfect match; my hands are always cold, yours are always more than warm. You keep me warm.” I grinned at you, daring you to disagree.
You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just using me for my warm hands.”
“You caught me! How did you ever find out?”
We both laughed and you held my hand tighter.
That was always one of my favorite things, how no matter what, you always held my hand. Even if we were in the middle of an argument, or just having fun, or just watching television at home, your fingers would find mine and encase my hand in yours.
I woke up from the dream, so happy, and for those few blissful moments, it was as if nothing had ever happened. But that’s almost worse than waking up from the nightmares. The dream filled me with renewed hope that inevitably set to fade away from me. While the nightmares, they merely mimicked what I already felt. They were a reflection of my reality. The truth in my days.
Sometimes I think that if I try hard enough. That maybe I could change something. I think that if I could just go back in time. If I had said one thing, instead of the other. That maybe you’d still be here. Maybe you would have never left the space beside me. Maybe I wouldn't be walking around feeling like I was missing another part of me.
I know what you’d say if you read these words. You’d say, “everything happens for a reason, you have to have faith in that.”
Well my faith has slipped away from me, and any optimism I once had, has left along with you. You were my reminder of the brightness in life, every day. Now your shadow reminds me of the darkness that is all around.
Until next time,
Your B
I dreamt of us last night. It was the type of dream that seems so real, so tangible, that you wake up confused and disoriented. For a few blissful seconds I forgot everything that had happened. I forgot that you were no longer here.
It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve had an actual dream, as opposed to the consistent nightmares that creep into the night, into my mind. I’ve gotten used to the nightmares, as much as anyone can really get used to such a thing. It’s the type of complacent acceptance that comes with having no other choice. People are either forced to accept what they cannot change, or live in subsequent misery.
I dreamt of an ordinary day, shared between us. It was so completely normal which only enhanced my desire for it to be true. Those were my favorite days, the ones where no fuss was made, no thrill was searched for. Just complete and utter happiness at being able to share the day. The type of contentment that you cannot chase after, you just have to let it happen.
In my dream, we woke up to the sunlight filling the room. The light bouncing off the crystals in the chandelier in the center of the room. Casting glimmers of light and shine across the bed and walls, across my arms and your back.
You turned to me and smiled.
“What would you like to do today?”
“Let’s go for a walk, and head to the farmers market. We can pick up breakfast and breathe in some fresh air.”
We got dressed. It was slightly chilly so I paired a grey knee length dress with black tights and flats. Threw on my favorite quilted leather jacket, and my purse.
You were dressed in your standard uniform of fitted dark wash jeans, sweater, and loafers.
We headed out, we grabbed coffee on our way to the market. Since we both thought it better to have a bit of caffeine in our systems for the walk. You locked hands with me.
“Why are your hands always so cold?”
I giggled. “Haven’t you gotten used to them by now? We’re the perfect match; my hands are always cold, yours are always more than warm. You keep me warm.” I grinned at you, daring you to disagree.
You laughed and shook your head. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just using me for my warm hands.”
“You caught me! How did you ever find out?”
We both laughed and you held my hand tighter.
That was always one of my favorite things, how no matter what, you always held my hand. Even if we were in the middle of an argument, or just having fun, or just watching television at home, your fingers would find mine and encase my hand in yours.
I woke up from the dream, so happy, and for those few blissful moments, it was as if nothing had ever happened. But that’s almost worse than waking up from the nightmares. The dream filled me with renewed hope that inevitably set to fade away from me. While the nightmares, they merely mimicked what I already felt. They were a reflection of my reality. The truth in my days.
Sometimes I think that if I try hard enough. That maybe I could change something. I think that if I could just go back in time. If I had said one thing, instead of the other. That maybe you’d still be here. Maybe you would have never left the space beside me. Maybe I wouldn't be walking around feeling like I was missing another part of me.
I know what you’d say if you read these words. You’d say, “everything happens for a reason, you have to have faith in that.”
Well my faith has slipped away from me, and any optimism I once had, has left along with you. You were my reminder of the brightness in life, every day. Now your shadow reminds me of the darkness that is all around.
Until next time,
Your B
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Dear Lost & Confused. A Message for Hurt Souls...
A few months ago, before graduating from university, I was asked to read this particular piece of work to my lecture class, along with other inspiring presentations by fellow students. My original purpose of writing this was to comfort a friend. A very close friend of mine had been going through a hard time, and I wanted to be a source of reminder. I wanted to remind my friend that we should never aim to please others in living our lives. We should only aim to please ourselves. Those that love us will love what we love. Those that seek to change us, are only reflecting their own insecurities on to you. In being a supportive source in another persons life we do not necessarily need to agree with all that they do, but we do need to be a source of acceptance and comfort. It is never okay to judge another person based on the way they conduct their lives, especially when they are doing no harm to others. Being embarrassed or otherwise is not an excuse to degrade another human. We were all created equally, and we should all be treated as such. Judging another person and trying to change who they are says more about you than it does about them.
-S
Dear Lost&Confused,
Do not let the backward ways of small minded individuals affect the way you regard yourself. You are the most important person in your life. Your peace of mind is of the utmost significance. There will always be sad people. Ignorant people. Insecure people. And mean people. You will likely encounter all of these people. Sometimes in the form of one person. Sometimes you will face these people on a daily basis, and it will often be out of your control. But what is in your control, is who you share your spirit and energy with.
Be careful who you choose to share yourself with. Do things not for approval or applause but to allow yourself your own inner peace. This peace does not mean constant happiness or understanding. It means that you recognize and appreciate the highs and lows that life will inevitably bring. It means that throughout these highs and lows your faith and trust in the universe remains. Allow yourself to feel your emotions; happy, sad, angry, hurt, but do not become stuck in any one of these feelings. Do not let people tell you how to be, feel, dress, act, or live. Often when people are attempting to fix what they deem wrong about your true self, they are reflecting their own insecurities upon you. They are attempting to fix what is wrong within them by demeaning you.
Do not ever let anyone make you feel inferior because you are more significant to the sum total of the world than you are aware of. And you are more special than you know.
Sincerely,
A warm embrace
-S
Dear Lost&Confused,
Do not let the backward ways of small minded individuals affect the way you regard yourself. You are the most important person in your life. Your peace of mind is of the utmost significance. There will always be sad people. Ignorant people. Insecure people. And mean people. You will likely encounter all of these people. Sometimes in the form of one person. Sometimes you will face these people on a daily basis, and it will often be out of your control. But what is in your control, is who you share your spirit and energy with.
Be careful who you choose to share yourself with. Do things not for approval or applause but to allow yourself your own inner peace. This peace does not mean constant happiness or understanding. It means that you recognize and appreciate the highs and lows that life will inevitably bring. It means that throughout these highs and lows your faith and trust in the universe remains. Allow yourself to feel your emotions; happy, sad, angry, hurt, but do not become stuck in any one of these feelings. Do not let people tell you how to be, feel, dress, act, or live. Often when people are attempting to fix what they deem wrong about your true self, they are reflecting their own insecurities upon you. They are attempting to fix what is wrong within them by demeaning you.
Do not ever let anyone make you feel inferior because you are more significant to the sum total of the world than you are aware of. And you are more special than you know.
Sincerely,
A warm embrace
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Dear A, Part Two
Dear A,
I’m sorry I left the last letter off so abruptly. But I’m sure you’ve gotten used to my antics. You know me best; when I’m overwhelmed I just shut down, and I leave.
Isn’t it ironic then, that I’m the one that is still left here.
I’ve moved to a new apartment. The other one was just filled with too many memories. I considered staying in it, to preserve our time together. But every corner reminded me of you. Every wall held some kind of story. The entire place was a tomb of us. It seemed sadistic. Almost like I was torturing myself by staying there, and I’m not that morbid trust me. I went apartment hunting last month, and found the perfect place the same day I set out.
You know me, I was never the picky type. Easily pleased and what not. It was always you that could see better, it was you that could always envision more. But you’re no longer here, so I’m back to my old ways. Good enough is fine by me.
I’m sure you’d hate it. The hallways are too narrow for your taste, and the windows are hardly up to your standards. There’s a balcony however, which I’m sure you’d approve of. I can imagine you setting it up with a table and matching wicker chairs, with extra fluffy seating. You’d tell me we could drink our morning coffee and afternoon tea from there, taking in the breathtaking view.
The view is nice, I’ll admit. I find myself sitting out there, especially in the late afternoons when I’ve gotten back from teaching a class. I just stare out into the vast sky, focusing on no particular spot of greenery. It’s nice not to focus on anything particular. It gives me a sweet escape, even if only for a few brief minutes.
My students, by now have heard of what happened to you, to us. It’s a small town, and a smaller university. That was always what I said I liked about the place, but now I’m reconsidering. But I can’t imagine leaving this town, leaving it all behind. Nowhere is home anymore.
Do remember the day you and I were walking back home from the university? We took the long way, just to walk through my favorite park. We were sipping on some fresh lemonade with extra mint. I decided to begin playing the question game with you...
“A!!!! What would you do if I dumped this lemonade all over you? Right now? In front of all of these people?”
You squeezed my hand tighter. I looked up at you, losing myself in your big golden eyes for the countless time.
“I would wait till we got home, and make you regret it.” You said with your tinkle of laughter.
“Regret?! Regret what! How!!!! Do you dare me?” I said, and I took a step closer to him, holding my drink above his head, teasing him.
He looked up at the drink and smiled. “Try it and see.”
Just then our friend Matthew spotted us, and called out our names.
I never got to find out what you were planning on carrying out for revenge.
I miss our walks through the park. I miss randomly bombarding you with baseless questions and threats. I miss the moments when you would hold my hand even tighter, just when I thought our hands would merge into one.
I miss everything.
Until next time,
Your B
I’m sorry I left the last letter off so abruptly. But I’m sure you’ve gotten used to my antics. You know me best; when I’m overwhelmed I just shut down, and I leave.
Isn’t it ironic then, that I’m the one that is still left here.
I’ve moved to a new apartment. The other one was just filled with too many memories. I considered staying in it, to preserve our time together. But every corner reminded me of you. Every wall held some kind of story. The entire place was a tomb of us. It seemed sadistic. Almost like I was torturing myself by staying there, and I’m not that morbid trust me. I went apartment hunting last month, and found the perfect place the same day I set out.
You know me, I was never the picky type. Easily pleased and what not. It was always you that could see better, it was you that could always envision more. But you’re no longer here, so I’m back to my old ways. Good enough is fine by me.
I’m sure you’d hate it. The hallways are too narrow for your taste, and the windows are hardly up to your standards. There’s a balcony however, which I’m sure you’d approve of. I can imagine you setting it up with a table and matching wicker chairs, with extra fluffy seating. You’d tell me we could drink our morning coffee and afternoon tea from there, taking in the breathtaking view.
The view is nice, I’ll admit. I find myself sitting out there, especially in the late afternoons when I’ve gotten back from teaching a class. I just stare out into the vast sky, focusing on no particular spot of greenery. It’s nice not to focus on anything particular. It gives me a sweet escape, even if only for a few brief minutes.
My students, by now have heard of what happened to you, to us. It’s a small town, and a smaller university. That was always what I said I liked about the place, but now I’m reconsidering. But I can’t imagine leaving this town, leaving it all behind. Nowhere is home anymore.
Do remember the day you and I were walking back home from the university? We took the long way, just to walk through my favorite park. We were sipping on some fresh lemonade with extra mint. I decided to begin playing the question game with you...
“A!!!! What would you do if I dumped this lemonade all over you? Right now? In front of all of these people?”
You squeezed my hand tighter. I looked up at you, losing myself in your big golden eyes for the countless time.
“I would wait till we got home, and make you regret it.” You said with your tinkle of laughter.
“Regret?! Regret what! How!!!! Do you dare me?” I said, and I took a step closer to him, holding my drink above his head, teasing him.
He looked up at the drink and smiled. “Try it and see.”
Just then our friend Matthew spotted us, and called out our names.
I never got to find out what you were planning on carrying out for revenge.
I miss our walks through the park. I miss randomly bombarding you with baseless questions and threats. I miss the moments when you would hold my hand even tighter, just when I thought our hands would merge into one.
I miss everything.
Until next time,
Your B
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Dear A, Part One
This is the first part of the story that I will be posting on here. I'll post as often as I can until I decide on a consistent schedule. Any feedback is appreciated.
-S
Dear A,
It’s hard for me to believe that there will be no more you. That I won’t be seeing you at our local cafe. That your voice will no longer be a mere phone dial away.
It’s hard for me to accept and understand, that your words can longer comfort me. That I must continue on, alone.
I was alone for so long before you appeared into my life, before you changed everything. Before you engrained yourself into the deepest crevices of my everyday life.
I can no longer remember what filled my days before you. How I used to bare drinking my morning coffee solo. The local cafe was my escape before everything changed. And after you came into my life it became our shared haven. No I cannot stand the thought of entering its french doors.
I pass by sometimes, and Phillipe, the barista calls out to me. He tells me they have a new flavor scone, or muffin. He asks me to come in when I have a chance. But I won’t walk in those doors anymore. I will no longer be sharing a blueberry scone with you, my love. Everything is tasteless now, even colors seem much more dull. I feel as though someone has placed lenses before me, to fade the color of life from my view.
I try to shake it off, I try to be positive, it’s what I know you would have wanted. But after you left, after you were no longer beside me, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to be. You were my personal supply of oxygen, and joy.
I’m running on empty now.
Until next time,
Your B
Monday, July 22, 2013
The Stuff that Clouds are Made of
Your embrace is the stuff that clouds are made of
The drop of rain in a drought
Gone on for centuries
Remaining after decades of prayer and sacrifice
The enclosure of your arms
Is my escape
From turmoil and regret
When I can no longer bear
The thought of my thoughts taking over
Consuming me
It is your arms that are my home
I am homesick for you
It is a constant never ending pang
In which I get by
By imagining the elements that compromise you
The quizzical looks that come my way
The heavy tinkle of laughter
The softness of breath
The shiver of fragrance that makes it way to me
Your embrace is the stuff that clouds are made of
Clouds that take me far beyond the stratosphere of here and now
To a place of then and when
To you and us.
The drop of rain in a drought
Gone on for centuries
Remaining after decades of prayer and sacrifice
The enclosure of your arms
Is my escape
From turmoil and regret
When I can no longer bear
The thought of my thoughts taking over
Consuming me
It is your arms that are my home
I am homesick for you
It is a constant never ending pang
In which I get by
By imagining the elements that compromise you
The quizzical looks that come my way
The heavy tinkle of laughter
The softness of breath
The shiver of fragrance that makes it way to me
Your embrace is the stuff that clouds are made of
Clouds that take me far beyond the stratosphere of here and now
To a place of then and when
To you and us.
More than Half of You
You once told me that people get what they deserve.
What is given is received in turn.
But what have I done to deserve the look you give me on a warm day.
What have I done to merit the type of calm, that only you seem to provide.
You tell me that you are not good enough.
But I think the opposite is true.
That what compromises us, is more than half of you.
What is given is received in turn.
But what have I done to deserve the look you give me on a warm day.
What have I done to merit the type of calm, that only you seem to provide.
You tell me that you are not good enough.
But I think the opposite is true.
That what compromises us, is more than half of you.
What Will Happen?
This particular post is one that I'm considering turning into a short story. I'm not quite sure about the specifics yet, but I know where I want the general concept to go. Let me know if anyone has suggestions!
They say never to never trust your tongue, when your heart is bitter. But the same is true of the opposite. You should never trust your tongue when your heart is consumed with happiness. When the pits of your life seem to be faded memories, far away and barely remembered.
When your heart is so happy it seems fit to burst. Promises and dreams should be kept within. For what will happen when monotony returns? When once again your heart and mind have forgotten? But this time not the pits, but the peaks? When you can no longer remember what connected you to a person, that once seemed so engrained into your everyday?
Into your everyday movements and thoughts. A time when you could barely imagine who you were before, and what exactly it was that you seemed to do with all of your time. When they were your time.
Never trust your tongue when your heart is bitter, but never trust it when your heart is full of joy either. For what will happen to the person. The other, who seems to have still managed to hold on, even when you let go. So very easily. With seemingly little thought.
What will happen?
They say never to never trust your tongue, when your heart is bitter. But the same is true of the opposite. You should never trust your tongue when your heart is consumed with happiness. When the pits of your life seem to be faded memories, far away and barely remembered.
When your heart is so happy it seems fit to burst. Promises and dreams should be kept within. For what will happen when monotony returns? When once again your heart and mind have forgotten? But this time not the pits, but the peaks? When you can no longer remember what connected you to a person, that once seemed so engrained into your everyday?
Into your everyday movements and thoughts. A time when you could barely imagine who you were before, and what exactly it was that you seemed to do with all of your time. When they were your time.
Never trust your tongue when your heart is bitter, but never trust it when your heart is full of joy either. For what will happen to the person. The other, who seems to have still managed to hold on, even when you let go. So very easily. With seemingly little thought.
What will happen?
And We're Off
The only thing we have on is the radio.
The air is thick with smoke and excitement.
The tension is tangible.
Can you feel it?
No one wants to make the first move.
Neither wants to be the first.
Yet both of us are feeling the urge.
I can feel the electricity.
Can you?
I say I have to leave, but we both want me to stay.
This has to happen.
I’ll never face you if I don’t go through with it.
Nothing else makes me feel this way.
Oh.
But what if I don’t?
Our eyes connect.
You raise a brow.
We both know I can’t back down.
But will you?
I’ll have endless bragging rights.
It will kill you and fill you with life.
Simultaneously.
I take a step closer.
I’m going to do this.
It’s going to happen.
You tilt your head.
Inquiringly.
I nod.
You give a look.
The call is made.
I steady myself.
My foot hits the gas.
And we’re off.
The air is thick with smoke and excitement.
The tension is tangible.
Can you feel it?
No one wants to make the first move.
Neither wants to be the first.
Yet both of us are feeling the urge.
I can feel the electricity.
Can you?
I say I have to leave, but we both want me to stay.
This has to happen.
I’ll never face you if I don’t go through with it.
Nothing else makes me feel this way.
Oh.
But what if I don’t?
Our eyes connect.
You raise a brow.
We both know I can’t back down.
But will you?
I’ll have endless bragging rights.
It will kill you and fill you with life.
Simultaneously.
I take a step closer.
I’m going to do this.
It’s going to happen.
You tilt your head.
Inquiringly.
I nod.
You give a look.
The call is made.
I steady myself.
My foot hits the gas.
And we’re off.
Forgetting One
And it is true that you were more than a figure that stood by me.
Your speech was more to me than just words lumped together.
Your voice was not just resonating sound waves.
Your laugh was greater than a tinkle of joy.
It is true that your words encased me.
Your words formed layers of warmth for me
When my bones were cracking from the cold.
Your voice was the high temperatures that thawed me.
When icicles were forming among my cells.
You blew heat from your lips and melted them clean away.
When I had forgotten the good in a bad day.
You sat with me, and counted all my blessings.
Forgetting one
Forgetting number one among them
You.
Your speech was more to me than just words lumped together.
Your voice was not just resonating sound waves.
Your laugh was greater than a tinkle of joy.
It is true that your words encased me.
Your words formed layers of warmth for me
When my bones were cracking from the cold.
Your voice was the high temperatures that thawed me.
When icicles were forming among my cells.
You blew heat from your lips and melted them clean away.
When I had forgotten the good in a bad day.
You sat with me, and counted all my blessings.
Forgetting one
Forgetting number one among them
You.
You are My Home
After immeasurable amounts of time of being stranded
In miles of sea
Open ended and winding
After being battered by currents and waves
After losing sight
And keeping myself afloat
With swift kicks and muted gasps of breath
You were my driftwood
You were my savior
You allowed me to lean on to you
To take rest and breath
To catch myself and place my head on a solid foundation
After I had lost hope in being hopeful
You were my beacon of faith
You were the calm to my endless storms
The storms within me
Which had accumulated in me, in abundance, forming together in turmoil
Turmoil within me, which had consumed me.
After all that time
Being lost, stranded, and alone in a battered sea of grey
You were my island of salvation and rest
My island of which I have made a home.
You are my home.
In miles of sea
Open ended and winding
After being battered by currents and waves
After losing sight
And keeping myself afloat
With swift kicks and muted gasps of breath
You were my driftwood
You were my savior
You allowed me to lean on to you
To take rest and breath
To catch myself and place my head on a solid foundation
After I had lost hope in being hopeful
You were my beacon of faith
You were the calm to my endless storms
The storms within me
Which had accumulated in me, in abundance, forming together in turmoil
Turmoil within me, which had consumed me.
After all that time
Being lost, stranded, and alone in a battered sea of grey
You were my island of salvation and rest
My island of which I have made a home.
You are my home.
Welcome
Hello All,
I'm not sure how many or how few readers I'll be having on this blog.
But I'll be grateful for each and every one of you.
I've been considering posting my writing online for a while now, but I've been too timid.
Now I realize, however, that the only way to advance in life is to face your fears and start living your dreams.
Each piece of writing, no matter how long or short. How seemingly personal or otherwise, is incredibly special to me. I hope you all appreciate the effort it takes for me to post them, regardless of whether or not you end up enjoying them.
Anyways, thank you, and I hope this blog will be a haven for some to escape to, and to know that the pains and joys of life are always shared with other souls!
Sincerely,
Shahad
I'm not sure how many or how few readers I'll be having on this blog.
But I'll be grateful for each and every one of you.
I've been considering posting my writing online for a while now, but I've been too timid.
Now I realize, however, that the only way to advance in life is to face your fears and start living your dreams.
Each piece of writing, no matter how long or short. How seemingly personal or otherwise, is incredibly special to me. I hope you all appreciate the effort it takes for me to post them, regardless of whether or not you end up enjoying them.
Anyways, thank you, and I hope this blog will be a haven for some to escape to, and to know that the pains and joys of life are always shared with other souls!
Sincerely,
Shahad
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