Thankful

This Thanksgiving what I am most thankful for is this moment right here. Moments like this nothing compares to; not my dear mother, my tumultuous life trying to convince my father I am worthy of his love, not my wonderful cousins whom I love more than life itself, not my one and only grandmother whose spirit is lying without worry in the clouds, not my childhood memories that I cherish with each and every breath I take, and not my knight in shining armor; my humble fiance. This, the way words make my body feel potent, warm, frigid, sad, in love and obsessed with having to endure cataclysmic events that leave me torn and forlorn for the rest of my days here on earth. This; the way poetry makes me yearn to crawl back inside my mother's womb for the chance to be birthed into someone with talent that could never be touched. This; the way poetry and music remind me that no matter the pain, the hardship, the smiles, the years of lost happiness and the years my heart will continue to spend trembling over the loss of my past, I am still here. This; the way everything I am not, everything I wish I was, everything I am, and everything I have yet to become becomes the amalgamation which wholeheartedly mirrors the exact person I am, but without a name, without a definition, without an image, without any identification except for a speechless face in awe of the world of art and writing that resides before me, and the hairs on my arm that stand up and speak for me as the chills run down the small of my back trying to explain how much I wish - I wish they could understand that it; that poetry; that each time a line is written I realize that I am alive and each time it is read, I refuse to feel anything more or less than life in its one most pure form.

I live to endure the exquisite feeling of paralysis by the truths that others fear; The truth in ways only poets have the fearless tenacity and power to express.

http://www.upworthy.com/watch-this-guy-misspell-father-at-a-spelling-bee-for-a-beautiful-reason-5

"For all the times you said I got your back..."

I can never forget how empowered this song made me feel; How I'd play it over and over again while sitting alone in my room; A 16 year old who was going to prove everyone wrong someday. Though I haven't fully reached the point of success I had envisioned for myself, I've undeniably come pretty damn close.
How heartbreaking the days of adolescent worries were. How resilient my worn skin has become.

Kina was such an inspiration to me. She gave me the confidence to push through all the difficulties in my life back then. And I'm still pushing through because of her. I pray she realizes what a lasting impression she had on many of us.

http://www.youtube.com/v/iZocOj4FJ0k?autohide=1&version=3&showinfo=1&attribution_tag=nGpzjQVL06py6IJQttxaqg&autohide=1&autoplay=1&feature=share

Marina Keegan

http://www.yaledailynews.com/news/2012/may/27/keegan-opposite-loneliness/

What more can I say? Can anyone say?

The sentiment that this young & brilliant writer has left me, and those whose lives she has touched before and after her haunting exit, with is one of cataclysmic fear and tantalizing warmth.  I wish I wrote like her.

Frightened - July 23, 2013 - 1:47 am

I wish I wasn't so sucked into these social media sites. Especially Facebox or Soorat Ketob as Joel and my mother, respectively, like to call it. It's such bull, really. Instead of furthering my studies and having faith in my ability to reach the summit of my career endeavor, I find myself wanting the lives of those who show up on my newsfeed. I wonder how many people on this entire site are really genuine about their experiences. I wonder how many of you might feel the way I do at times, and I wonder how many would admit it.

It's weird to think of myself as an engaged 29-year-old who is still trying to find herself.
It's weird to think that besides the semester I took off in the autumn of 2005, and the year between undergrad and graduate school, I have been in school since I was 4-years-old.

I wonder if it will ever fully make sense to me; this life; the paths I have followed and the reasons behind doing so; the hurdles and the bullshit events that have transpired. I have spent forever crying. I have learned to keep my mouth shut though. I don't bitch about life anymore, at least not as frequently as I used to. I smile here and there. Laugh a lot. But still, feelings of inadequacy and loneliness remain all too real. I have Joel, my friends and my family, and yet I still can't help but feel alone, confused, and tired even though there is proof of my undeniable restlessness given my obvious love affair with insomnia at 1:30 in the morning.

I don't know why I am writing this note, and whether the point that I am trying to get across actually exists.

My paper was due 11 hours ago. There have been many "11 hours ago" in my life as an undergrad and grad student. It's weird to think that I actually miss the teenager that once resided within me; she always had every assignment done on time, and never felt the need to stay up all night thinking. Nowadays, my mind decides everything for my body and itself.

I'm worried about the future and uncomfortably scared, but I know that I acquire all the strength to overcome it.

My only hope is that my mind and body will embrace each other when the dire need for us; for me; for Neda to overcome life yet again hangs heavy in the balance.