Oh how He loves us
Today I realized that I am blessed
blessed with a great life
great suitemates
great family
great fellowship
great school
great God
normally i hate poeple who post stupid pictures on tumblr. this one is a keeper.
(Source: westcoastwins)
Today I realized that I am blessed
blessed with a great life
great suitemates
great family
great fellowship
great school
great God
Coming back I’ve been more irritated than anything. If I could say something to people before I leave, its “Look at yourself. you’re almost 20, please for the sake of others grow the fuck up.”
I Warn You Readers, This is a rant. however, one with a concise point and an end.
As we dawn on the peak of 2011, in retrospect this year was a roller coaster ride. We began the year with New Years Resolutions of going to this college, Early decision for this school, going out with someone, ending the year 15 pounds lighter. All I can say is, if thats the case. This year has been a huge, outstanding success for you. The fact still stands, you may be a hot student at a college with a boyfriend but nevertheless your character is superficial, cheap and irresponsible.
Wake Up. Wake Up not to smell the flowers but Wake up to this revelation: We can live life as a face. We can be completely empty inside without character and survive with the appeal of being attractive or superficial. But trust me without morality, character and ethics, You are Nothing. You are easily forgotten.
Grow Up in the sense don’t bail out 30 minutes we’re supposed to hang out. Don’t take responsibility for things you can’t handle. don’t fit yourself into the stereotype that someone else imposes on you. Don’t be someone for someone else. Give people mutual respect. Accept the fuck up correct the mistake. Don’t be an asshole and swallow your pride. Confront the issue don’t be immature and ignore it; if you don’t like someone don’t go around it, tell them.
Resolution of 2011: be a better person. And yes the issues pointed out above even I have trouble fulfilling. I admit it. No that does not make me a hypocrite for pointing it out.
This is my plea. as the clock strikes 12 tonight, reflect on the fact that your almost your age. appreciate what you have and make the best of it.
To say that I miss home right now would be an exaggeration.
I find that that there are so many wonderful things here at Davis, and yet sometimes when I think about home something just seems unappealing to me. Even though I have been back home twice now, its been empty because there was not anyone there. its kind of an oxymoron or it doesn’t makes sense. I guess it just makes it bittersweet.
I’m excited to see so many people when I go home, I don’t know if I’ll feel the same way about them when I left. But, But there are so many people that I don’t want to see. I guess I just didn’t break things off as cleanly as i hoped with some people. I guess I’m just anticipating disappointment and ostracism
How depressing.
Today I went to IV of UC DAVIS and there was a song sung in spanish and the words were so beautiful only to reiterate the point that worship is universal. The passion of the people who seek God was so pure. and that made me realize that God is everywhere; he is the fill of our voids that we are naturally born with. When you see ungodly things I have learned to meet them not with judgement but with love. Love the alcoholic addict as God loves them.
In C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity he says that “Do not waste time bothering whether you “love” your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more. If you do him a good turn, you will find yourself disliking him less.”
This week I met Dr. Enderle as well as his wife Peggy. Two of the most spiritually encouraging people. on campus. One a Chem professor and another a member of HOC5. The lessons that we are able to receive are endless. Thank you God
We look at a book, leather bound with large embroidery, the cover, a midnight blue; the letters, in a gold leaf. and we think that yes, this is something that I would read. The title page, bland and the publisher, Webster.
You can read a dictionary, you can be educated from it and that is exactly what you guys are, on the outside you guys are attractive and on the inside, full of things that others can use; pages cannot merely contain your endless opportunities nor can it describe your infinite potential.
This is what it is, this is what it feels like. One year ago I was in the exact same situation, saying bye to loved ones, watching cars drive off in the distance, disappearing in a cloud of new opportunities. As God and life calls upon us, lets embrace this new opportunity, lets write the new best-seller. We are all educated, we all have a plethora of vocabulary but when the time comes when we forget a word or we really need someone to lean on, break it out. Break out the most trusted most phenomenal resource. You.
Class of 2010, I will miss you dearly. Cupertino is once again a town small, yes but marinated in so much potential, I hope you all realized that when we all come back and gather around the iron laced tables in front of Verde, talk, doesn’t matter about what, but lets talk and once again read.
Lets keep these roots watered. The roots that make us who we are. The roots that allow us to thrive on what is ahead of us.
Faith.
Au Revoir
A lot of emotion right now, I stare at the bright orange clock, it reads 1:11AM. I pass time looking at the clock, what do i feel? Mad for flakers, people who make me uproot my plan; people who don’t plan, people who have to be considerate. I feel sad, sad that I’m a disappointing friend, sad that I dont satisfy those who need; sad that I cannot be there for those who hurt. Regret, regret for those I’ve hurt, regretting actions I took that encourage judgement, regretting the things I’ve thought.
Leaving in 6 days, letting the countdown begin. Countdown to the hiatus from work, Countdown to leaving those I love. Countdown to take a month to heal those that have less than I do.
We see people do bad things everyday, sometimes I just stand in front of the mirror and i think about my day, sometimes i have “what the fuck” moments or sometimes i have “oh shit moments” its not the good memories we remember, its the bad ones. We see people walking down roads leading to nowhere, we see people going down paths that are bleak and lined with darkness. It hurts the most when they are people we love. I don’t ever believe that we can not care about someone that we formerly cared about. We all linger, linger to cry, linger to not care but still care.
Mainly I think about what was going through my mind when it hurt
I think about what the begining of summer could have turned into
Sometimes I want tell how much I regret doing those things to you
Sometimes I don’t want to leave, however its something I was told to do
YOU
Well, Here I am, in last place.
Looking at the photos I recollect, I think who are these people. Who gives a crap. People are people, we all fuck up. We all have baggage. I have no more tears left to cry, no more pictures to burn, no more memories to cherish. I have no purpose in my constantly driven life. As I purposefully let the grains of sands of my high school career slip out of my hand. I write my ending of my high school career.
The book would have no title, only context of hope, loss, fear, salvation. Things seem to go so nicely when you have someone next to you, however just as the training wheels are pulled off a bike, foundations can crumble at the point of just one person. We all lose some and we all gain some, the Lord giveth a taketh away. However when He takes, no doubt he is merciless, the same God we all look to and fear.
I just wait to heal, wait to find and answer, until that comes I cannot find a conclusion. A novel without an ending. chapter 17, a blank paper, its up to you as someone in my life to dip your pen in the ink. it could be a recollection of an angry Jackson Pollack or a serene Monet. A graphic Toni Morrison or a didactic yet purposeful Jane Austen.
Et Tu Brute?