there's no religion that could save me

At twenty-seven, I'm learning how hard it is to let someone love you, how hard it is sometimes to live this life right by yourself, by others, and how, even when we should know better, sometimes, sometimes it's not enough. And in moments when I want to settle, when I simply want to give up, how vital it is that I remember what all of this was for. I'm learning, it seems, the older I get, the more blurred the lines between right and wrong become, and the harder it is to believe anything is possible. But there are still those moments that take my breathe away, a kind word from a stranger, an unusual note of affection from a friend. And the weight of belief, the weight of faith, and for everything we can't control, how living is the essence, it's the only thing we have control over.


 the former years

"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. we want to be masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera

At twenty-one, I learned the reality of the ever-long cliche of broken hearts, emotions heightened to anger, hate, bitterness and regret without sacrifice, without discretion: it was what it was.

At twenty-two, I learned the price of self-worth and perhaps the most difficult things in life are the truths for which we cannot control: time, cancer, the choices of others.

At twenty-three, I learned the reality and repercussions of the choices we choose to make, the price of momentary desires.

At twenty-four, I learned some things are never meant to be reconciled: perhaps it's not whether someone else will forgive you for your actions, but rather if you can forgive yourself.

At twenty-five, I learned there's no shortage of dreamers, but those who choose to pursue those dreams are few. And those who choose to muddle on in pursuit, even after time and trials fail, are even further between.

At twenty-six, I learned people will often tell you, sometimes settling is the only option, and sometimes, there's nothing you can do to right a wrong, and sometimes, people won't forgive you, and sometimes, you will forget that you wanted more out of this life, out of the people you adore, and you'll settle for merely what everyone's told you is possible, and not what you know is possible.



Suffering from a delayed reaction on life, consistently romanticizing the past, disaffected with the future and an inability to care for the present.

on world politics

your inability to understand frustrates me so. you know, i'm just trying to keep my sanity. but you say, school is a luxury. this is a luxury. i write. i write and i write for free because its what i do, and i love it. but it's hard. and you say, you don't understand. you ask, what about that other thing you get paid for. you don't understand these things that i've made matter.

but what can i really say. should i say you're right on all counts. should i let it go. afterall, you lived through a war. you survived a war. what do i know about that. what do i know about those days. you survived. education is a luxury. writing is a luxury. dreams are a luxury. and you survived, you're the embodiment of this dream, this american dream. but you don't understand. your mother died of an illness, she was cremated, after the war, your father, he took his own life, and your sister would do the same years later. and he left. and you survived.

so what can i really say.

Propriety in the written word

Some things you never write because it's evidence of who you are. Some things, you don't want evidence of.

Upon reading up on news organizations' recent amass of rules and regulations for social media Web sites, such as Facebook, Twitter and online blogs, I'm beginning to wonder what's going to happen if I ever get a job with a major news organization or rather, any news organization. I've logged 180 posts on this blog since I started it in January. I have another 669 entries on LiveJournal dating back to 2001. Not to mention, 889 comments posted and 781 comments received on that account. And, though I don't have active links to that journal anywhere, I don't intend on deleting my account. It'd be like deleting a file of memories.

You know how extreme liberals are essentially extreme conservatives?

I'm not sure if my problem has been that I've always known what I wanted or that I've never known what I wanted.

The White House apparently announced a press conference for next week first on Twitter. For the life of me I can't figure that shit out, nor do I want to. But it seems I may not have a choice.

I was thinking about the EU today, wondering how it was doing.

Getting you out of my system was never an option.

"Apparently we can't get enough of the world," he'd said.
"No, I think it's a lifelong addiction."

Belief

Andrew: well, what i read was related to the recent shooting at the holocaust museum and a report the dept of homeland security released about a rise in hatred in the US

3:59 PM it's the #1 emailed piece on NYtimes today

4:03 PM moderates, center-right, and center-left don't bother me; liberals make me happy; far right makes me sad; far left makes me confused and a little angry; anarchists generally make me upset... except for the group that came to the rescue of a bunch of immigrants in Greece who were being attacked by a bunch of people on the far right while the police stood by and watched



I've failed to read about the shooting at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., nor have I bothered to read about the elections in Iran and the uproar over Ahmadinejad's win. Why? I have too much of my own shit to worry about, that I don't want to read the news because nothing in the news is ever good. You open up the front page to any major newspaper and it's about Iran or North Korea or the kid who's drowned in the Potomac or the man who's been beaten in Tehran or the bodies of the kidnapped in Yemen have been found. And though, I get why the networks write this stuff. It's news, and it's important and it makes us aware and ignorance is simply ignorance, it is not bliss. But god, one reason why I hate politics is because of how aware it makes me of how messed up this whole damn world is.

The things we fight for, the things we die for, the things we murder for.

What about the things we live for?