"Hannah, the thing about peace is that the harder you work for it, the further it gets."
"But Jesus died on the cross!!"
"Yes. So you don't have to."
~ Christian Morey.

I guess the word of the day is: Eventually.

Your eyes are full, full of the future of us. The air changes as you look across at me in that wondering way. It is as if I knew you before we spoke. Do our hearts know something we don't? Converging, conspiring, without giving us any say. You're ruining me with secrets and gestures and looks, with sonnets in second-hand books. Playing the chords in me nobody knew how to play. You sing me to sleep, talk down my walls, look through my windows as I wait. You could be the thief I give the key to. It fits in your hand like the water in rain. Unlocks our two different selves and shows we are the same. Rather than wait til I put me out for the taking, you're breaking into my heart, and I'm letting you.

[The Thief ~ Brooke Fraser]

If I could talk to my 8-year-old self, I'd tell her to be bolder. That she's as dangerous as they are.

There is such opportunity and grace right here.
I am here and I am now.

You don't know it, but you take me to greater heights.

Freedom

"In one remarkable paragraph, Rushdie's Chamcha is told how the upper-class whites objectify the immigrant's identity in England: 'They describe us... That's all. They have the power of description, and we succumb to the pictures they construct' (Rushdie 1989:168). The Arab literary critic Sadik Al-Azm (1991) cogently observes that in Rushdie's novel, just as in Jean Genet's palys The Maids and The Blacks, the charaters only become objectified 'others' through the gaze of a superior 'self'. By accepting these stigmatized identities, they begin to gain control of the asymmetrical relationship. In The Blacks, the black protagonists frequently declare, 'We are what they want us to be. We shall therefore be it to the very end, absurdly.'"

Have I found a way?

It dawns upon me that I might get more sleep if I did less things.

Hrmmmmmm...

A just relationship is a symmetrical relationship. Both parties must bear the same burdens of justification, explanation, adaptation and love. I'm tired of unilateral conformations. Help me find a balance.

It's the way he looks at me, that says this isn't over.
From the outside looking in, you see there's nothing sacred here.
Nothing sacred.

You can bend, but you can't break.

For the reasons out of my control, I try to make it roll like a dice away.
I say that I'm all empowered here.
This is obviously not clear enough to you.

You can bend, but you can't break.

Hey little girl keep dancing
Hey little girl keep dancing alone
'Cause there's not enough time in your day to keep you here.

The soldier's daughter
Did your daddy
Did your daddy hurt you?
Did he make you feel bad?
Did he poison your views with the water he was raised on?

Oh your father's son says hang on
Hang on

Hey little girl keep dancing.
Hey little girl keep dancing alone
'Cause there's not enough time in your life to stay here.

So over the hills he'd climb, just to see me there in time.
Just to watch the sun shine through my dress.

~ Tonic.

Journey

Understanding human life is more than subscribing to a certain givenness but is instead constituted by an active relationship with the circumstances in a person’s life. Any concept of culture must then consider moments in social life when the given or habitual is disrupted, when that which may be glossed over as “normal” and fixed is transformed by crisis into a world of alternate possibilities

~ Glen

"You know
I need to know myself
and what I believe
and my convictions are my own"

"AMEN!
Can I blog this too?"

Beauty and the Beast

You're not a stranger to me, and you are something to see.
You don't even know how to please
You say a lot, but you're unaware how to leave

My darling lives in a world that is not mine
An old child misunderstood out of time
Timeless is the creature who is wise
And timeless is the prisoner in disguise

Oh who is the beauty? Who the beast?
Would you die of grieving when I leave
Two children too blind to see
I would fall in your shadow, I believe.

My love is a man who's not been tamed
Oh my love lives in a world of false pleasure and pain
We come from difference worlds, we are the same.
I never doubted your beauty
...I've changed

Changed. Who is the beauty?
Where is my beast?
There is no beauty
Without my beast

My beauty...my beauty
My beautiful...beautiful...beautiful
Beautiful beast

Amen

Writing in 1856, the British naturalist Alfred Russel Wallaces states:

The five cells are silky-white within, and are filled with a mass of firm, cream-coloured pulp, containing about three seeds each. This pulp is the edible part, and its consistence and flavour are indescribable. A rich custard highly flavoured with almonds gives the best general idea of it, but there are occasional wafts of flavour that call to mind cream-cheese, onion-sauce, sherry-wine, and other incongruous dishes. Then there is a rich glutinous smoothness in the pulp which nothing else possesses, but which adds to its delicacy. It is neither acid nor sweet nor juicy; yet it wants neither of these qualities, for it is in itself perfect. It produces no nausea or other bad effect, and the more you eat of it the less you feel inclined to stop. In fact, to eat Durians is a new sensation worth a voyage to the East to experience. ... as producing a food of the most exquisite flavour it is unsurpassed.