February 2012
26 posts
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Repression is like a stone thrown into quicksand - the memory sinks quietly and unobtrusively from view and will not surface unless some profound cataclysm thrusts it to the surface or until a trained specialist draws out the memory from its hiding place.
Dr. Dan B. Allender
“There is safety in soul-numbing rigidity that does not require thought, reflection, or risk. But the honest person knows that soulless conformity never leads to life-giving change.
All the effort in the world expended to arrive at the “right” location will be of little avail if the traveler is moving in the wrong direction or has known or unknown reasons for not wanting to...
cant sleep so thats cool
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ser pero no saber nada
And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along their path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness,
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“There is something therapeutic about doing for others that lifts a person out of the rut of self-thought.” ― Tim LaHaye
things to be happy about
a free ticket to an opera at the Tennessee Theater.
friends who listen and dont offer platitudes.
dressing up for 90’s themed parties.
reconnecting with an old friend over coffee.
the house blend from Mojoe’s trailside coffee.
being 5 minutes late to class and your professor being 5 minutes later.
the completion of an application to study abroad in Spain.
planning a California...
Woohoo
My CEA study abroad advisor called me today to work out the last details of my program. I’ll be in Alicante, Spain from May-August! I’m anxious to delve into the Spanish culture and fall even more in love with the language. Costa del Sol: here I come.
something I just learned:
George Orwell fought in the Spanish Civil War. What?
the constant of the universe by andy weaver
These words are dedicated to those who died because they had no love and felt alone in the world (Irena Klepfisz, “Bashert”) And there is no hand to reach for mine, to take this pen from me, stop it from reaching the end. And so loneliness, in the end, is the dotted yellow line you follow, mindless, because it’s there, that desire to gut every painting of lovers, to poke your fingers through their...
I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mothers name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt...
“It’s a strange thing, how you can love somebody, how you can be all eaten up inside with needing them—and they simply don’t need you. That’s all there is to it, and neither of you can do anything about it. And they’ll be the same way with someone else, and someone else will be the same way about you and it goes on and on—this desperate need—and only once in a rare million do the same two people...
It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we’d done were less real and important than they had been hours before. ― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
“It was nice - in the dark and the quiet… and her eyes looking back, like there was something in me worth seeing.” ― John Green, Paper Towns
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unrequited love can be survived in a way that...
“I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American...”
– John Green, Looking for Alaska
“I’m not saying that everything is survivable. Just that everything except the last thing is.” ― John Green, Paper Towns
fuck
January 2012
18 posts
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When I first saw your face It hurt you to smile Your lips tasted like tears I could kiss them for miles On a midnight train— May it never arrive
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I remember when the whales had wings, she said. Whatever happened? I said. It got to be too noisy with all the airplanes & other stuff, so they flew into the ocean & never came back. Some days, she added, I think about going too.
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“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”
—Jack Kerouac
“Think how you love me,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember.’ ‘You’ll always be like this to me.’ ‘Oh no; but promise me you’ll remember.’ Her tears were falling. ‘I’ll be different, but somewhere lost inside me there’ll always be the person I am...
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One of my favorite authors
“Oh sure, I’ll still be missing you as much as ever. I’ll still smile at the memory of you. I’ll still be — OK, I’ll say it again — loving you, but I won’t abandon myself for you. I cannot be faithful to you without being faithful to myself. I’ve reclaimed my future. If we are destined to be together again, be happy to know you’ll be getting the real me, not some blubbering half me.”
—Stargirl...
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from my textbook:
“Language most shows the man; speak that I may see thee,” wrote Ben Jonson in a prose collection published shortly before his death. “Characters hide their meanings from others (and occasionally from themselves), feign indifference when they feel love, say only part of what they mean, pursue their designs under the unsuspecting eyes of those they interact with. Even silence...
“My mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house,...”
– The Fault in our Stars by John Green
I don’t spend my life struggling with the man in West Virginia, Sara. I spend my days struggling with the man inside me. After all of those years, he became a part of me. Psychologists have different names for this. Some label this phenomenon as internalization. It’s like there are tapes that play selective memories through the mind. But i’m like you, Sara. All I see is a blank...
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“Love is not so much a matter of romance as it is a matter of anxious concern for...”
– Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
It has been a long time so my brain is about to explode or something. I’ve got tons of stories up there, you know. I keep them on this really tall bookshelf, but sometimes a word or two might leak out of one story, drip down, and leave a stain on another. So, now I have a bunch of stories with smeared words and inkstains.
I guess that’s why I haven’t blogged in a while.
December 2011
13 posts
2 tags
am i irreparably broken
“Women were brought up to believe that men were the answer. They weren’t....”
– Julian Barnes, A History of the World in 10½ Chapters
“I tried to think about other things. I tried to invent optimistic inventions....”
– Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
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“When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it’s safe inside...”
– Jodi Picoult (Handle with Care)
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