"That was the thing about words, they were clear and specific--chair, eye, stone--but when you talked about feelings, words were too stiff, they were this and not that, they couldn't include all the meanings. In defining, they always left something out."
"She was starting to think there might be such a thing as karma - that repetition - maybe you lived through the same thing over and over until you stopped caring. Maybe eventually it got less intense, until it was just nothing."
"How right that the body changed over time, becoming a gallery of scars, a canvas of experience, a testament to life and one's capacity to endure it."
"The pearls weren't really white, they were a warm oyster beige, with little knots in between so if they broke, you only lost one. I wished my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart."
"If I were a poet, that’s what I’d write about. People who worked in the middle of the night. Men who loaded trains, emergency room nurses with their gentle hands. Night clerks in hotels, cabdrivers on graveyard, waitresses in all-night coffee shops. They knew the world, how precious it was when a person remembered your name, the comfort of a rhetorical question, “How’s it going, how’s the kids?” They knew how long the night was. They knew the sound life made as it left. It rattled, like a slamming screen door in the wind. Night workers lived without illusions, they wiped dreams off counters, they loaded freight. They headed back to the airport for one last fare."
"Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you'll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way."
^ my all-time favorite quote.
i kind of want to be a writer.
but it'd feel like a waste of my (excuse me for saying) skills in math. :/ especially since my parents are like...math, physics, and engineering experts.
it just wouldn't be acceptable to pursue a career in literature, or photography, or the arts.
or maybe it's not so much my parents limiting my potential, but my fear of failure.
and of not being the best.
even though there will always be someone better than you. always.
i just want to do something safe.
something that i'm good at,
that makes decent money. (and this is irvine, so decent = 6 figures.)
why is my mindset so narrow?
why is it that i've never truly considered becoming a missionary, or a servant of the Lord and the Church?
(actually, i've considered it. that's just the furthest i've gotten. :P)
i feel redundant in using the word dormant again because i did in my last post.
but God lies so dormant in my life.
actually scratch that
my abilities to see, trust in, and love God lie so dormant in my life.
i wish i saw Him/beauty in everyday things more often.
i wish i could find comfort in Him.
i wish i could believe that He is always right here alongside me...so i wouldn't feel so goddamn alone all the time.
