Original post from 2009.
Sooner or later, you'll realize that the proximal and the immediate are not sufficient fixes for the deeply messed up issues that you still have yet to identify. If there's a time to be selfish, then I say it's now and not later, while we can still hide behind our youth. But there will come a time when "I'm a student" will no longer justify our assholic behavior. We can all run from our problems now and hope that time will work our lives out for us, but the more you push aside, the more you'll have to deal with later. In the end, there's no running away from yourself. Funny how a lifetime of running will still get you nowhere.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Beautiful People
Original post from 2009.
Today, one of my lesser perverted guy friends asked me who the prettiest girl I know is. Of course, a lot of names floated through my head, but I landed upon one individual that really is one of the prettiest people I have ever known, both physically and spiritually. This conversation in turn, led me to reminisce about said person and how close we used to be. A seemingly dumb question posed in a perverted context that somehow gave light to something deeper. I know, right?
I've known a lot of pretty girls in this short lifetime because honestly, Sephora can do a lot for a girl. On that very topic, so can big sunglasses and strategic tools of the female trade (no, not that trade) like push-up bras and low-cut tops. But it's rare to find a girl that lights up a room with her personality. Rare to find a girl that makes you laugh so hard, you're gasping for air. Rare to find a girl that is just as smart and witty as she is pretty, if not more. Rare to find a girl that just doesn't let life faze her. Rare to find that kind of friend to get lost in this crazy, mixed up world with.
After this very lesbianic reminisce fest, my perverted guy friend asked where said girl is now and of course, if he could "hit that." Too many things wrong with that very comment to begin addressing. Alas, another disgusting comment that triggered some interesting thoughts. I came to think about the many people that come and go in your life. Isn't it sad how you can lose touch with some people that meant so much to you just one year ago? How can human relations be so fleeting? Again, I've reached a major theme in my life: the inexplicable mystery that is friendship. To meet all these interesting, beautiful people and have them leave your life. I was once told that it's not that bad things happen to me, but that "bad people" happen to me. And yet, with this constant trend of fleeting friendships, I can't help but wonder if it's not the people that come and go in my life, but me that constantly turns my back on people.
So, yes, I have known many beautiful people. And I open up to the possibility of another myriad of colorful individuals that will come, go or even stay in this lifetime.
Today, one of my lesser perverted guy friends asked me who the prettiest girl I know is. Of course, a lot of names floated through my head, but I landed upon one individual that really is one of the prettiest people I have ever known, both physically and spiritually. This conversation in turn, led me to reminisce about said person and how close we used to be. A seemingly dumb question posed in a perverted context that somehow gave light to something deeper. I know, right?
I've known a lot of pretty girls in this short lifetime because honestly, Sephora can do a lot for a girl. On that very topic, so can big sunglasses and strategic tools of the female trade (no, not that trade) like push-up bras and low-cut tops. But it's rare to find a girl that lights up a room with her personality. Rare to find a girl that makes you laugh so hard, you're gasping for air. Rare to find a girl that is just as smart and witty as she is pretty, if not more. Rare to find a girl that just doesn't let life faze her. Rare to find that kind of friend to get lost in this crazy, mixed up world with.
After this very lesbianic reminisce fest, my perverted guy friend asked where said girl is now and of course, if he could "hit that." Too many things wrong with that very comment to begin addressing. Alas, another disgusting comment that triggered some interesting thoughts. I came to think about the many people that come and go in your life. Isn't it sad how you can lose touch with some people that meant so much to you just one year ago? How can human relations be so fleeting? Again, I've reached a major theme in my life: the inexplicable mystery that is friendship. To meet all these interesting, beautiful people and have them leave your life. I was once told that it's not that bad things happen to me, but that "bad people" happen to me. And yet, with this constant trend of fleeting friendships, I can't help but wonder if it's not the people that come and go in my life, but me that constantly turns my back on people.
So, yes, I have known many beautiful people. And I open up to the possibility of another myriad of colorful individuals that will come, go or even stay in this lifetime.
One day you'll learn to discern its true meaning
Original post from 2009.
CB and I had a casual conversation about our mothers before her buzzed nap turned into a drunken coma earlier tonight. CB looked on as I refastened the button onto my latest thrift store find with the sewing kit her mother had given her three years ago. My difficulty with the simplest domestic task triggered her to inquire whether or not my mother had taught me how to sew. She did, actually, if you were wondering. However, my time at the sewing machine didn't encompass much beyond tote bags, skirts and coin purses. Broken needles and broken faith. The whirring frustrations of my rebellious youth and the snags of our mother-daughter relationship.
I examined the newly fastened button on my skirt and noticed how crooked of a job I'd done. Immediately I thought of my mom's adept and elegant hands. While CB and I will never be able to sew a button on as efficiently as our mothers, I'm afraid the dissimilarities are beginning to end just there. Much to our dismay, CB and I are both morphing into our mothers. Personally, if this really is the case, then I think it is equal parts amazing and awful. Is it possible that there is amazing potential lurking beneath these clumsy hands? Or awful that we all eventually realize that our parents are human, too?
CB and I had a casual conversation about our mothers before her buzzed nap turned into a drunken coma earlier tonight. CB looked on as I refastened the button onto my latest thrift store find with the sewing kit her mother had given her three years ago. My difficulty with the simplest domestic task triggered her to inquire whether or not my mother had taught me how to sew. She did, actually, if you were wondering. However, my time at the sewing machine didn't encompass much beyond tote bags, skirts and coin purses. Broken needles and broken faith. The whirring frustrations of my rebellious youth and the snags of our mother-daughter relationship.
I examined the newly fastened button on my skirt and noticed how crooked of a job I'd done. Immediately I thought of my mom's adept and elegant hands. While CB and I will never be able to sew a button on as efficiently as our mothers, I'm afraid the dissimilarities are beginning to end just there. Much to our dismay, CB and I are both morphing into our mothers. Personally, if this really is the case, then I think it is equal parts amazing and awful. Is it possible that there is amazing potential lurking beneath these clumsy hands? Or awful that we all eventually realize that our parents are human, too?
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