forget sleep.
all i can think about is going home and what it will be like
and why am i am dreading it..
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
a
headache.
bout of boredom.
momentary warmth.
chilled walk.
a stare.
a flickering of the eyes.
a name on the tip of my tongue.
it comforts me.
smells.
i remember those well.
and with them come memories too great, they bring tears to my eyes.
they are clogging my tear ducts, causing traffic,
causing blurry vision,
taking my eyes off the road God has lead me on.
who am i?
not who i was when i graduated high school
not who i was when Elias died.
not who i was 9 months ago, when Africa punched me in the heart.
not even who i was yesterday.
change is constant.
the question of tomorrow hangs in the air.
will it be better?
worse?
boring?
but i walk anyway, making myself move forward,
making myself take it in,
because i know that soon this will all be over,
and this chapter, this heavy chapter,
will be finished,
and will be regarded as a blurry memory
where i cant remember who i was, now.
lord, let me take it in.
let me smell you,
and remember who you are.
let me feel you with my memory..
and staple you to my agenda for the blurried tomorrows.
bout of boredom.
momentary warmth.
chilled walk.
a stare.
a flickering of the eyes.
a name on the tip of my tongue.
it comforts me.
smells.
i remember those well.
and with them come memories too great, they bring tears to my eyes.
they are clogging my tear ducts, causing traffic,
causing blurry vision,
taking my eyes off the road God has lead me on.
who am i?
not who i was when i graduated high school
not who i was when Elias died.
not who i was 9 months ago, when Africa punched me in the heart.
not even who i was yesterday.
change is constant.
the question of tomorrow hangs in the air.
will it be better?
worse?
boring?
but i walk anyway, making myself move forward,
making myself take it in,
because i know that soon this will all be over,
and this chapter, this heavy chapter,
will be finished,
and will be regarded as a blurry memory
where i cant remember who i was, now.
lord, let me take it in.
let me smell you,
and remember who you are.
let me feel you with my memory..
and staple you to my agenda for the blurried tomorrows.
Friday, April 8, 2011
The History of Love, p. 76-77
“I wrapped my hands around the coffee. The warmth felt good. The next table over there was a girl with blue hair leaning over a notebook and chewing on a ball point pen, and at the table next to her was a little boy in a soccer uniform sitting with his mother who told him, The plural of elf is elves. A wave of happiness came over me. It felt giddy to be part of it all. To be drinking a cup of coffee like a normal person. I wanted to shout out: The plural of elf is elves! What a language! What a world!...
It hit me how good it is to be alive. Alive! And I wanted to tell you. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m saying life is a thing of beauty, Bruno. A thing of beauty and a joy forever...”
It hit me how good it is to be alive. Alive! And I wanted to tell you. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m saying life is a thing of beauty, Bruno. A thing of beauty and a joy forever...”
Monday, April 4, 2011
sometimes
...i have to walk away and pretend some things don't exist.
...i have to remind myself that i won't always be in this situation. that things are temporary.
...that, for better or worse, i'm only here for eight more weeks.
...that it's okay to be frustrated.
...that attitude determines your memories.
...that I am loved.
...that years from now, i'll look back on these moments, and laugh.
...i have to remind myself that i won't always be in this situation. that things are temporary.
...that, for better or worse, i'm only here for eight more weeks.
...that it's okay to be frustrated.
...that attitude determines your memories.
...that I am loved.
...that years from now, i'll look back on these moments, and laugh.
Friday, April 1, 2011
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