Saturday, July 28, 2012

Two weeks left

Nearly finished with my orientation materials, I catch a deep breath before it all begins. I have learned that I am not good at sitting around, waiting for the current to begin again. Idleness worries me. When I am not moving, I feel as if time will catch up with me and cover me in a great wave of failure.  So I constantly run forward.

My deep breath comes in the form of heartfelt hugs, sweet kisses and hope-filled embraces. The feeling grows constantly within the deep emotions of our human essence. This week, we cook Indian dishes, shop at the farmer's market and try to forget about the many miles that will separate us, the stressful challenges awaiting our talents. We still have no idea how hard or how easy it shall be.

This week, I hope to begin to recover from the sickness that has steadily latched on during the past two weeks. Then I may be at my very best for the start of this new endeavor. With every word I read, I become more excited, yearning to know the rules that rule the world. I yearn to understand the system so that I might wield my mind to somehow positively change the world.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Late Night Ramblings

Two weeks here, and I make friends slowly. It is a cross from being too picky, having such good ones so far, and the lack of opportunities outside bars and climbing.

I understand that my world and its comforts sit on the backs of any offspring I may have. The climate is changing. The world crowds itself out of resources, and some are taking more than their fare share, manipulating banking rates while the rest of us suffer, exploiting resources subsidized by the average guy. My inability to do anything about any of this troubles me more than anything. I need to be productive, but how?! I often think that I used to be full of such energy and now ... I feel a little lost here yet.

The smooth, rippling fields rise up and down like waves of a sheet thrown across the bed. Some rise more than others, but no part of the ground is exactly flat. It's beautiful. Yet, this place is unlike any I have experienced so far. Currently, it holds the sense of longing I feel for Stephanie, the burning desire that this time things could work out, the fear and anxiety I have about law school, whether it will suit me, challenge me, not change me, but enhance me. So many horror stories of this experience, so many good experiences.

I have to keep telling myself that I am a good guy. That I cannot fear the outcome, but must relish the experience. For this day becomes what I make it. It is the freshest breath I will ever get. It is the longing that will burn and churn a productive soul. A soul locked within my own feelings and anxieties about all the possibilities I may face.

Sometimes, a hug is all a guy needs.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Bike Ride Ignitor

Hunched forward, back straight, legs tensed as they pushed and pulled, lungs fiercely drawing in air and heaving it out, I swept through flowering grasses with their sweet aroma in the small valley of hills. Peace and comfort flowed over me.

The body is weak, I thought. It has sat too idle for too long. My mind, though somewhat sharp, fades with the idling of my body. I like to feel my heart pulsate, my lungs expand in desperation and my muscles tense, exerting themselves till the end, till my jello-laden legs squirm and twist me home. For we have one life, I wish to live mine as a man, with passion and drive. Not any of this sitting around and waiting for life to come to me.

Last night, the FedEx man came. He left me with my two-wheeled, lady. I got in a 18-mile ride, and then called it a night.

My summer reading list has arrived, but I will not have the funds until a check is deposited in my account. I have never had much help getting by with things. I think as a boy I had so much hope that the world would conspire to help me so long as I strove to help others. Yet, it was only through suffering that I resolved to be a good, decent man in this world. Lately, I have much to be thankful for.

I do not know how to say so much in this blog that has not yet formed in my mind. I am thankful as of late, and scared at the same time. I find happiness in moments, and I try not to think that as I build, so I have much to lose. I comfort myself with the sense that I know what it feels like to lose it all, and I can and will still go on fighting if that happens. For if it is fear of loss that holds us hostage to keep striving, that is a prison sentence in itself.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012


Until lately, my heart has lay quiet. My soul does not speak up to me, pour out as it should. Some write as if this were a deliberate, meaningful part of growing up. Yet, what if it is nothing more than the effects of society beating me into submission? That to have an eager, open heart, full of passion is to err, and maybe I have simply started to give in. My rusty writing bares this horrible mistake. No little can I form a word than believe it is a lie. I sit in these morning hours, hoping to come up with some great plan to recapture myself.

Yet, as these words again begin to flow. It is not in the plan, but the action. For one can know the form of swimming and know nothing of the rhythm that makes it smoothing and free, efficient. So I sit no longer, awaiting a plan. I have acted time and again, fearing the reprisal of inaction. Yet, I always thought that plans and action would some day commingle.

So again, I learn while en route. Plans?! What are these but potential energy that could forever remain so? Action will bring good deeds about. Inaction will only make for a wasted life.


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Ambitiously enduring.