Time Warp

I have always loved myths and fairy tales. I aspire to illustrate some in the future. One thing I am definitely not interested in is a contemporary medieval revival. The past few days conjure images of the late medieval period. Maybe even a Viking feel. Assassination... Burial at sea... If the helicopter was a dragon, this would be quite a tale. IN THE FICTION SECTION. Hamilton would probably wonder why she didn't write it. And yet, I must remind myself that this is, in fact, 2011. For all the "moving forward" we have done, it seems like a few things are still centuries behind.

I pray that a modicum of peace can be gained through the death of Osama bin Laden for all affected by the terrorist acts on 9/11. However, I also pray that it is realized that the murder of a murderer is not justice but rather it is vengeance. In my heart of hearts, I am afraid of what retaliation may occur, or who may arise to claim the seat as the "new" bin Laden, simply because he was not shown justice.

(Side Curiosity for my Inner Biologist: What effect does the human body have on the undersea ecosystem into which it is deposited? Is that going to be a negative thing?)

Dear Mr. President, thank you for your somber attitude while delivering your speech. Please, don't allow anyone else to be assassinated. It hurts my heart, even though bin Laden's deeds were terrible, reprehensible, he was a human entitled to fair trial, even if the outcome was already known. Sanctity of human life. Neighbor.

What is it that America is supposed to stand for? Liberty and Justice for All. If we are American, that should be our stance toward the rest of the world, right? We shouldn't say, "I have more power than you, so I will just have my way." We should honor the ideals we are taught to stand for (since we know they are "right" or "good"). Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness - what are these if justice cannot protect them? What should happen if true justice is circumvented, brought short or low?

I cannot rejoice in murder, though I perceive the sort of relief that the living victims of 9/11 must have felt upon hearing the news. Still, this is not cause for celebration. I am not mourning bin Laden's passing as a man. I lament the fact that he was not brought to justice.

My city, Chattanooga, circa 2009.

May it be a place of rest and never fall to sleep.

Photo taken by me; Canon FT QL with 1.2 lens

A Glimpse of My Future Man (1st Round, Incomplete)

I've been prioritizin'

Instead of livin' a life o' crime and

I never take risks

After five always comes six

Everyone else is out on the town

I'm twenty hittin' up Hulu with my cats

Thinkin' bout my ringtone

And how it never goes off

This good girl is never gonna be bad

But she's agitated

Gettin' close to mad

I just want a good boy to doff

His cap and smile at me

Not one who says "Take it off."

Or "Get high with me."

Go play your kiddie games elsewhere

My man's out there somewhere

He'll hear me when I walk into the room

Harley D son

Gonna make it boom

So loud he can't look anywhere but me

After that it'll be

All HIMYM

The rest is history

"I..."

I am hell-bent on going back to college after one year off. FALL 2011 BABY!
I have one younger brother and one younger sister.
I want to illustrate my own stories some day.
I call my 125cc scooter my baby.
I make good sandwiches.
I’m right handed, but I can do just about everything equally well with my left.
I’m a bit shy, despite people calling me intimidating.
Almost everything I own is used.
I like Grape Nuts. A ton.
I love grapefruit.
I’m closest with my cats.
I wanted to be an interior designer until I was 14. Then I just wanted to have a boyfriend. (Insert dry laugh of "Well, that's far from true, but, seriously.")
I work at an Italian restaurant, a consignment store, and an upscale hair salon.
I collect mugs.
My nationality is American. I sometimes wish it were Korean or Japanese.
I think Kraft shells are da bomb.
I spend most if not all of my nights watching Korean dramas on Hulu.
I live for filing my nails.
I use my imagination A LOT.
Nerds are my favorite candy.
I love hand-made quilts.
I don't have a "smartphone."
I can barely function without my morning cup of Earl Grey.
I can knit a mean scarf.
I always smell like ink and shaven pencils.
Final Fantasy is the shit.
Jesus is my anti-drug. And some other stuff. Y'know, like, he saved my life and stuff. Yeah.
My favorite pajamas are my Nike Nationals longsleeve and VS fruit pj pants.
I have an over-crowded desk.
I have a yellow and navy reversible ducky raincoat.
I've never kissed anyone.
Ironing is soothing to me. Sorry feminist movement, it's true.
Go Animal Crossing, or go home.

Can anybody find me somebody to love?

A Proper Time

"...Do not awaken love before it's time..." It's so hard when I'm so ready to be in love. Or at least have a boyfriend and think about maybe being in love. Oh, my Lord. See how desperate my heart is? It's clutching at every possible thing it can to say "Will you love me? Will you let me love you?" Why does it seem that I am always too much? Why am I always pushed away? Why am I so intense? Why do guys find me so intimidating? Why have I never had a boyfriend?

I don't understand.

However, I trust that all of this is molding me into the person my love will fall in love with. That I will fall in love with that person in part because of this aspect of my life. That it's all leading to a grander love, a grander purpose; that of an infinite, unyielding love that will never be reneged.

A Prayer from November

I spend most of my time wanting an image that my situation renders impractical
bearing a situational image that I'm only half proud of
and fighting with myself about my lack of pride.

I am chastised at each step for depression, lackadaisicality, and effortlessness.

"For months now." I'm told, like someone is spitting poison at me.

And I do wonder, "Where has my determination, my power, my will, gone?"

It isn't improper to call me out for it, but it stings, because I already call myself out for it so often, so scathingly, and because I wish others wouldn't notice that I've lost something.

God, where is my "spark?"

Why is it so diminished or so cloaked that even I cannot feel it? Where is it?

Any fires I may try to build are certainly crude and in the wrong place. Why won't you let me find me? What is the point of being lost?

I know you've found me, but, LORD, lead me to myself. What's the point of being human, of being "me", if I don't have the gumption to find myself?