Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Presidential "Debates"
All I have to say is that I'm sincerely disappointed this is the first presidential election in which I'm of voting age.
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
The Broken Pieces
And I want to hear about the broken pieces. I want to know, not to fix you, but to understand. I want to understand how you put yourself back together. Because not everything is about making it right again. After all, what even would be "right" about things that went so wrong? Maybe it's recognizing that perhaps things will never be right again. Maybe you don't even want to be fixed if it were possible, and that's okay. But I want to know how to carry on with missing pieces and broken parts. I always found a beauty in kintsugi, in history, in weakness, in strength.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Heartbreak
Disclaimer: Yes, I am very much so writing this to avoid studying. But also to lighten my heart, filled with too many thoughts for me to focus at all.
---
How many stories do I have? How many stories do you want to hear?
Should I tell you about the evenings I spent in the bathroom or garage? The late nights trying to fit in? All the books I read, hoping that one would speak to me, that I could look at it and say, "Hey, there she is, there I am."
Should I tell you about how none of that worked?
Maybe you want to hear more about the sleepless nights, tormented thoughts, tear-stained pillows and journals and memories and conversations and lives.
But maybe you don't really care. Maybe all of this just serves to make you feel special. Maybe the secrets that I share are stored in a trunk, gathering dust, something that reminds you you can't throw it away, but it doesn't really mean anything either. Maybe I just open up to be closed off again.
Maybe every time I let someone in, they take a little piece of me with them when they leave. Like a bed and breakfast with a library that dwindles over time. Maybe the years I spend in different places capture a piece of my soul that I can never get back.
Maybe that's why I always feel like something's missing. Like things could be better. Like I'm always wishing I were somewhere not here, not now, not who I am.
But I'll be brought to where I need to be, with pieces of my heart and scraps of my soul leaving a breadcrumb trail through the forest back to where I started.
---
How many stories do I have? How many stories do you want to hear?
Should I tell you about the evenings I spent in the bathroom or garage? The late nights trying to fit in? All the books I read, hoping that one would speak to me, that I could look at it and say, "Hey, there she is, there I am."
Should I tell you about how none of that worked?
Maybe you want to hear more about the sleepless nights, tormented thoughts, tear-stained pillows and journals and memories and conversations and lives.
But maybe you don't really care. Maybe all of this just serves to make you feel special. Maybe the secrets that I share are stored in a trunk, gathering dust, something that reminds you you can't throw it away, but it doesn't really mean anything either. Maybe I just open up to be closed off again.
Maybe every time I let someone in, they take a little piece of me with them when they leave. Like a bed and breakfast with a library that dwindles over time. Maybe the years I spend in different places capture a piece of my soul that I can never get back.
Maybe that's why I always feel like something's missing. Like things could be better. Like I'm always wishing I were somewhere not here, not now, not who I am.
But I'll be brought to where I need to be, with pieces of my heart and scraps of my soul leaving a breadcrumb trail through the forest back to where I started.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Yours
I've always wanted to be strong, but every time I look, I'm just weak. I've been broken down and battered, and they said scars made you strong, but what happens if wounds never heal? They said you're strong if you can stand back up, but what if the only reason I get up is because I'm afraid of staying down? I let others in more than I want, and less than I should. Life's beautiful, and broken, and based on nothing but whispers of truth in the night and the hope of someone to catch your tears.
I've never been my own; every piece of me belongs to someone else. Pieces of my heart and soul fly out and attach themselves to others. The countless hours of conversation, of friendship and love. I've never thought my life was worth much, but it's a story of all of the effort that others have put into me, and it would be a waste to throw it away.
I've never been my own; every piece of me belongs to someone else. Pieces of my heart and soul fly out and attach themselves to others. The countless hours of conversation, of friendship and love. I've never thought my life was worth much, but it's a story of all of the effort that others have put into me, and it would be a waste to throw it away.
The Sands of Mine
I look back and remember the time I asked you
What this meant for us
But
Neither of us knew.
We stayed up until 5am once,
Talking about God and faith and
Not knowing how deeply
We would hurt one another.
I never meant to hurt you.
"I miss reading about myself,"
You said.
And I miss writing about you, but
I really just miss you.
And at one point,
I would have loved to own the moon.
But all I really want now is to know
Someone cares.
What this meant for us
But
Neither of us knew.
We stayed up until 5am once,
Talking about God and faith and
Not knowing how deeply
We would hurt one another.
I never meant to hurt you.
"I miss reading about myself,"
You said.
And I miss writing about you, but
I really just miss you.
And at one point,
I would have loved to own the moon.
But all I really want now is to know
Someone cares.
More
Words have meaning. And you have a way with words that's beautiful, but also dangerous.
I'm an open book to a point, for anyone who takes time to read. Beyond that... Well, beyond that, it's anyone's guess what will happen.
I'm an open book to a point, for anyone who takes time to read. Beyond that... Well, beyond that, it's anyone's guess what will happen.
Friday, October 14, 2016
In the timeline of God's plan...
Why is it that your story and mine have intersected at this specific point in time? And how long will the threads of our lives be intertwined?
Thursday, October 13, 2016
She asked...
Why does this happen to me?
You care,
Came the reply.
You're too genuine,
Too social,
Too truthful,
Too kind.
You find beauty in ordinary things,
See the struggle in people's flaws.
You want to help.
You're made of
Deep thoughts and laughter,
Humility and compassion.
Your imagination strays towards the past,
Towards the stories you never knew,
The pain they didn't tell you.
You care.
It's all most people ever want,
To be cared for
The way you want to care for them.
You care,
Came the reply.
You're too genuine,
Too social,
Too truthful,
Too kind.
You find beauty in ordinary things,
See the struggle in people's flaws.
You want to help.
You're made of
Deep thoughts and laughter,
Humility and compassion.
Your imagination strays towards the past,
Towards the stories you never knew,
The pain they didn't tell you.
You care.
It's all most people ever want,
To be cared for
The way you want to care for them.
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
Monday, October 10, 2016
Living it up in Toah Nipi
Had an absolutely amazing time on retreat with GCF and Boston InterVarsity in New Hampshire. It was such a blessing to meet more brothers and sisters in Christ in the area. Kickball tournaments, random games, an extremely ironic GCF's Got Talent show... It's back to MIT and studying for exams (cumes in 1 week, synth org and phys org in 2), but with a new lightness in my heart and some extra moral support.
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