Garden State

There is a scene at the start of the film, Garden State, where Zach Braff’s character, Andrew, is sitting on an airplane. He is assembled between two older women, staring blankly at the seat in front of him, his eyes completely glazed over. Andrew, subdued and apathetic, was on his way to his mother’s funeral. All of a sudden, the scene takes a drastic plunge into chaos. The plane begins to tremble, people scream out in terror, debris dashes from side to side, and the flight attendants beg for some sort of control. While this is all happening, a simple, yet beautiful melody plays in the background, drowning out the chaotic mess, letting the audience merely watch the pandemonium, rather than listen to it. And during all this time, Andrew remains idle, unaffected, and immersed into the feeling of nothingness. On April 12th, 2010, I boarded a Southwest airplane in Oakland. Its destination was Scottsdale, Arizona. In less than 24 hours, I was to attend the funeral of Connor Grimes Redd. While sitting on the plane, I thought about the past two weeks of my life. It was Spring Break, life was lovely, I was home, surrounded by love, accompanied by friendship and laughter. Holy Thursday rolled around and it was time to attempt to complete some sort of school work instead of cramming it all in the night before. I fled to the library, promising myself I would get something done. Who knew my life was going to change drastically in a matter of minutes. It was April 1st, also known as April Fools. It was one o’clock in the afternoon,when I received a text message from my friend. It was a simple text, just a few words, just like any other. All it said was, “Horrible news: Connor Redd died”. What? Connor? Connor who was my resident upstairs in the fall, now studying abroad in Italy. Connor who I had classes with, who I was in the Honors Program with. Connor, who was my dear friend, who was everything a man should be and more. How could that Connor be gone? Connor was supposed to be my resident every year, we had a plan. We complained how hard the honors program was and how we didn’t know how we were going to survive another semester. When it snowed in Moraga in December, we celebrated together with friends, claiming that this was the best night we ever experienced in Ageno B. Connor promised me that night that he would be careful in Italy, that he would see me in the fall of next year and would patiently await our future adventures. This blatant, new fact was overwhelming to comprehend. It just didn’t seem real, nor possible. We are young, we are alive, we are invincible. And yet, we are merely human. Our lives can end in a matter of seconds. Connor was 20 years old. As I sat on that plane, I felt utterly empty. The funeral came and went. Those two days were a complete blur. My heart was aching. Negativity and apathy drenched my entire being and every momentary glimpse of happiness, I would just turn into hopelessness. Everything in my life at that moment felt so uncertain. And yet, even at my lowest, my darkest hours, for some strange reason, there is a twinkling light that urges me forward. When I just want to give up, call it quits, and proclaim to the world that it’s just not worth it, that humans are inherently evil, something stops me, and not just stops me, but screams fiercely into my ears, “Porsia, not yet! Do not lose hope now, not when you know life is worth fighting for, that people are worth fighting for, that love is worth fighting for.” And when I yell back, “You are wrong! Life merely disappoints. I have lost people I loved. People I know have died and will die. I’m not smart enough, I’m not pretty enough, I’m not good enough…” The voice doesn’t give up that easily. It ignores my ridiculous, childlike banter and simply states, “I love you, and that is enough.” Then I realize, at that moment, life is utterly beautiful, that life is completely worth it, and that the good is vastly triumphant. Loss will occur, but the time before that loss is inherently wonderful. And although this moment is fleeting and tomorrow I may need to be reminded once again by a friend, a quote, an experience; I believe in the power of the pursuit of the dream. The dream that one day there will be clear evidence that the world is actually healing, actually changing, actually becoming once again whole. When we are broken, when our lives undergo uncertainty, when our surroundings become uprooted, when we lose people we love, we start to shake in our boots. We cry out and plead for clarity and unity, for an easy remedy and perfection. But trudging through the bleeding desert sands and swimming through the violent waves of the unforgiving ocean, reminds us of our human capabilities. That we are able to overcome trial and tribulation, that through our deep convictions and undying spirits, we can be triumphant; we can witness small displays of love, of equality, of peace. If the pathway to wholeness and health was easy, we would never realize our potential, our ability to go beyond settling for mere contentment; rather, we reach for the stars, we reach for the dream. We continue the memories of those we have lost along the way. We trudge on. We love. We Make Connor proud.

patent pending.

Having something you need to write about is the equivalent of crossing your legs and bouncing awkwardly when you really have to pee, or waiting for someone’s reaction when you’ve sent them a gift. it’s this annoying shield that blankets your mind and your thoughts with an opaque layer, suspending all other inquiries until the matter at bay is resolved.

As was expected, for the past few days as I attempted to align the wheels of my shitty, but beloved Ford explorer with the dashing yellow lines dividing the lanes on the 101, as I carefully avoided the uneven layers of pavement on my runs, and as I waited in line for a highly overrated blended coffee drink, I have mulled over in my head the idea of apathy.

It’s a curious thing. Because occasionally I allow myself to fall into the persona of the cliché tragic poet. Who feels for the purpose of feeling. Whether it be woes or joys. You know that dramatic writer who allows simple thoughts to extrapolate ecstasy from a mere simple pleasure or exacerbate a paper-cut into a full-blown wound? The one who loves to be in love. Or sees pain as the seed for a budding masterpiece. I have to be mindful of those days. But after that verbose paragraph, I guess what I’m getting at, is that I don’t see the point of a life without thought and consequential feeling. So, although many consider pain the greater evil, I would like to argue that apathy takes that cake.

For once, I paid attention to the “No return beyond this point” sign on my way to baggage claim. I hate things that pound a sense of finality into you. Obviously, no return to Ithaca for a while. Strike one. No return to the simplicity of freshmen year. Strike two. What called me out, was perhaps the thought of no return to who I was before. Not that I necessarily wanted to return to that person, but change always leaves you with some sense of loss. Then there’s the whole “beyond” ordeal.

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered."-Nelson Mandela

That was what was beyond. And as I stepped onto LA territory, I realized I was treading unfamiliar territory.

I’m not one to be apathetic. While some pride themselves on their bodies (athletes), intelligence, beauty, talent, I have always been happy with my ability to empathize, to listen, to love. So this silence was unnerving. And like one of those sputtering, shitty cars running out of gas (oh wait, that would be mine), my words and ideas are slowly approaching a hault.

I guess I’ll get back to you when I’ve checked out what’s under the hood.

Olin

As i sit, what feels like, atop the world, staring over the (Finger) Lakes (maybe?), taking in the perfect contrast of the aged stone and lush green foliage, marveling at how Cornell can be so breathtaking in what most would call terrible May weather, i find myself amused at how the beginning and the end so often coincide.

While I have been studying, procrastinating, but mostly procrastinating in several variations of library, many have been folding clothes neurotically, throwing out junk acquired through random school-sponsored events, burning statistic books, taping boxes shut, and sealing their first year of college with suppressed tears and reluctant goodbyes.

A sense of finality is established as the door is shut and the key (that you probably lost or left at some random frat a number of times throughout the year) is slipped between the centimeter separating the door and dirty college dorm carpet. The last snapshot in your mind of the place you called home for the last 9 months perhaps brings with it a flood of fond, not-so-long ago memories.

The first time you sucked it up and spoke to the freak who found herself magnetically attracted to the floor. or the girl lying under a tye-dye blanket, only introducing her(intoxicated)self after popping her head out from beneath in a turtle-like fashion. or the boy whose first words to you were "is it ok if i take of my shirt really quickly" and somehow ended up being your best friend and support system.

the nights of sloppily stumbling back home from frat parties (that you waited in line for absurd amounts of time to get into) only to ask your friends what they remembered the next morning over brunch, in order to piece together the crazy antics of your hallmates, are over.

the first snow has melted, the initial innocence dissipated, and the you you knew has been upgraded (or maybe downgraded, considering the obscene amounts of unhealthy beverages consumed).

Your last nine months have been characterized by shots, of espresso and classy Svedka. but those shots have been consumed alongside your new family. the family YOU get to choose, you friends.

so now you go back into the real world for 3 months, a different person, alone. without your crew.

some of us go back to the familiar, to discover for themselves the way they have changed. perhaps a small bubble in Connecticut to find that pining for acceptance is unnecessary, that being worried that people won't love you for who you are is pointless, because the right people, the one's who smile when hearing your repetitive drunk phrase for the night, may not be wearing Lily Pullitzer, may be hippies or Jews, may not reside in Stepford, CT, but exist nonetheless.

some of us don't have a far trek home at all, maybe the townies have the trickiest task. because their reality and paradise are separated by a very fine line. perhaps their struggle is the worst, how do you notice a change in yourself, without having a standard of comparison?

and then, there are some who find themselves stepping in unfamiliar territory, voluntarily. leaving the past in the past. and moving forward.

haha, so serious a talk, what a sharp contrast, im getting my ideas straightened out in my head, and behind me there is a cute asian lying on the floor, her boyfriend laughing, and loads of social psychology waiting for me to memorize it.

anywho.

babes was right.

running away is not moving forward, but sometimes moving forward means running away.

running? fuck, i feel like I'm sprinting.

sprinting when everyone else has started their cool down.

you know what else, there is no time to look back right now, i'll lose speed.

if you're in the cool-down, if you're walking, drifting, hell if you're sitting, breathe and enjoy it. , you'll have your time to sprint, ill have my time to drift.

move forward.

Give life a kidney shot, and chase after your dreams!

Sam,

I guess I should ask what it exactly means: “living for others”? This year I have realized that it is absolutely impossible living for oneself. What I mean by that statement is this: Despite what many may tell you, everything you chose to do, say, ect, effects not only yourself but all those around you. For the good, for the bad. We are all affected by one another. John Donne once said, “No man is an island…”

With this being said, that doesn’t mean you cannot achieve personal happiness or search for that one thing that makes you come alive, because in doing so, in the end, you will make others come alive.

Here’s my philosophy, there must be a balance. If you do everything for yourself then you forget about the common good for all. And if you do everything for everyone else, then you forget about following your own passions and desires that can then benefit others.  For example, in the pursuit of finding love, you are doing it for your own happiness, but the end result is a beautiful love that many will be able to witness and share in. So perhaps at first it is for yourself, but in the end it is for all.

There is a time where you must venture out on your own and find your own adventure and self-discovery. Sometimes others will be upset or may not understand, but time will give them clarity and all will be all right. It’s almost like a cost-benefit analysis. At what cost are you willing to do something else? And yet at the same time, one must do what makes them come alive or there is no purpose to life. We must live together, we must support each other, we must save each other. But we must save ourselves first before we can help anyone else… 

amorvincitomnia.

eat, drink, be merry?

Dear Red,

I know ive spent my entire life living for others. with all that's been going on in your life lately, i've watched you live your life for other people. but just the other day, my brother asked me, encouraged me, to live for myself. he said this is all we have, and if you base your choices on the judgment of others, youll miss out on the golden years.

heres my dilemma, do i live for others, or do i finally start living for myself?

must they be separate entities?

because it seems to be that way.

if i continue to base all my actions on the good of others, i will live a relatively guilt-free life. I will feel good in an arguably self-righteous manner. I will be proud of my actions. but i wont be necessarily doing what brings happiness or pleasure. and i know what youre thinking Red, because im thinking it too... really Sam? you think pleasure is the basis of happiness?

maybe?

not always. thus far ive told myself happiness is found in love of others, but what happens when what needs to be done out of love for others is self-destructive?

i'm finding myself tiptoeing this fine line as of late.

ok, so lets assume i choose to live for myself, then i will be consumed by guilt. its just who i am.

so im screwed???

whats your take on this smorshe?

amorvincitomnia? i am trying to convince myself so.

Love,

Sam

Mike.

Dear Red,

The past week has been an emotional blur.

I have taken my first selfish step.

does that make me a stronger, independent adult, or have I begun reverting to childish egocentric behavior?

Exiting a relationship is a sticky situation. Wreckless in the sense that you know damage will be done on the counterpart and yourself, but you have to pick who you value more. And Red, you know I've been taught/have tried to live my entire life for other people.

I feel bad for him. I wish I could capture all his pain in its entirety and take it upon myself or at least get rid of it.

but.

I've also realized I have become a risk taker.

Something I've never thought i would see next to my name.

Sam, Risk-taker.

you know you hear those stories of people opting out of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, to chase something very improbable, but something that they are irrevocably passionate about.

I have become that person, and what I am chasing is that passionate, all-consuming, honest, eternal, perhaps idealistic, but ecstasy-inducing happiness that is love.

He was amazing. A dying breed really, the chances of me coming across another so respectful and selfless and loving are few, but I cannot reciprocate as I wish to. And I really did want to.

sorry if i sound like a bitch.

But i took the risk and walked away.

I am chasing the real thing Red.

I am chasing true love.

As for him, if you are reading this, or ever happen to stumble across it, I hope you find true love too. Find someone who looks forward to you every minute of everyday. Who embraces every awkward gesture or trademark phrase. Who remembers that you don't like inefficiency but love challenges. Who will love everything about you, not being blind to your flaws, but loving you regardless of whether you have them. I hope you find someone who you are everything too and I hope she finds you too. I am sorry, but Im looking for this too. So good luck in your endeavor for the real thing. Every ounce of me hopes that you find it.

I will think of you every time I think of true love, in the hopes that you will find it.

One more thing to keep in mind...

"No, this is how it works: You peer inside yourself, You take the things you like, And try to love the things you took, And then you take that love you made, And stick it into some, Someone else's heart, Pumping someone else's blood, And walking arm in arm, You hope it don't get harmed, But even if it does, You'll just do it all again..."

Red, you and I have usually been on the same side of the fence, we walk arm in arm with someone, hope we dont get harmed, but do.

We always ALWAYS do it all again though.

we always will.

but this time, i have a new bit of knowledge. I have been the one to walk away and do the harming, and I apologized, and I will as many times is asked of me. but sometimes the harmer isn't a villain, but an ambitious explorer, looking for too precious a treasure to settle for safety and return to shore, wealthy to some men, but empty to himself. Maybe this voyager knows he cannot rest til he has found what he has set out for, and waves will be trampled underneath, friends will be lost in what they call his insanity, but he knows the risks are necessary.

Maybe at the end of the day, it isn't about arriving at shore with something tangible, but knowing that you are willing to journey to the ends of the earth, and even if you haven't found what you're looking for, even if you don't ever find true love, you have experienced the ecstasy of getting closer every time, and the satisfaction of knowing that you have done all that you can. That you love the quest for love. and that you love to love.

how much closer do you need to get? if you can love, then you've got your compass, and your journey will already be fulfilling.

The Scientist

"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I've set you apart

Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
Oh, let's go back to the start"

my intention was not to exclude you.

I do not think you are a person who hates. But i think you do have trouble accepting, or supporting my decision to join a sorority. and i understand and respect that. I also understand that one should not make assumptions about people one has not had the opportunity to meet. If you would like to take up my behavior with me, go for it, in fact i think you are more than justified to do so given my recent behavior.

3 weeks ago, maybe i was that person who valued social status more than it should be, and obsessed over appearance, and drank away her woes.

but things change.

its funny, ive never really thought i had a childhood, i assumed that i had done all the growing up I could already, but life proved me wrong.

"nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be so hard, I'm going back to the start"

I know that people care about me, not to sound egocentric, I know i have you, and steph, and matt, and mike, and julian, and babes, and all my friends here and at home,

but Porsia,

I have never felt so alone.

The pressure of excelling here to break a cycle, the realization that this is my only way out, the quickly declining health of my mother, the worry that she is alone, the worry that i am the only one she has to take care of her and I am 3000 miles away, the responsibilities of the spouse i have taken on since infancy, the lack of someone or something to fall back on, the feeling of loneliness and of being misunderstood, the abandonment by my father, and the disappointment of my family, the injustice at work that the person i love most must face on a daily basis, and the scars of abuse in the past have surpassed metaphysical standards,

they are physically weighing me down.

and i can't breathe.

Atlas is doing his best to carry the weight on his shoulders.

He's panting and pulling through, but that doesn't mean there aren't tears rolling down his cheeks.

and then i wonder about my mom. the only thing i have. and life could've whisked her away in a heartbeat. literally.

Have I ever made her happy?

As for you, I am sorry, I know i have you, thats why I called you and left you a message, it was my instinct to call you.

but i feel like im straddling the line between trusting you and burdening you. It's a very fine line.

Know that I love you,

"I'm going back to the start"

to my core,

I can only deal with this all if I am myself, and I feel like I lost that person somewhere in all the alcohol and struggles and temptations,

so maybe its time to empty the cup and start over.

i really do hope amorvincitomnia.

Sincerely,

the Scientist.

Room For Me?

Sam,

There is no room for hate in my life. I would like to make that absolutely clear. I do not hate sororities as much as I do not hate God. Yes, I do disagree with how some people behave in such groups, but never hate. If being in a sorority makes you happy, makes you feel connected then by all means, please be in one, and I will do my best to see the good that they do. But when all I see is your drunken nights placed in photos night after night without any explanation, it is hard for me to see the good. I am not saying you have to tell me why you are partying or when you go out or what you are doing, but I feel in the dark 24/7. You tell me you aren’t happy, and maybe that has nothing to do with partying, but since I am in the dark I do not know.

I want you to flourish in the life that was given to you. I want you to be honest with me and tell me what is going on and for some reason you haven't been. Finding out in a car ride home, information in your life, is not how I want to learn about what you have been going through. I honestly have no idea where I stand in your life.

I know you aren’t fully happy. I know you are going through tremendous struggles that I cannot even fathom. But I want to know more deeply, I want to do my best to understand so I can do whatever I can to help you live freely and love completely.

Sam, I want to be in your life, not just a little bit, not just halfway, but 100%. I want to be your best friend. I will always be there for you no matter what, even if you don’t tell me what’s going, even if you don’t want me to.

That is all I have to say for now. Good luck with your last part of your freshmen year. I hope your boyfriend treats you with dignity and respect. I hope your friends know how great you really are. I hope you excel in all that you do and conquer the world with your beautiful soul and intellect. I hope your mom is healing from the car accident, I hope she is happy and content. I hope everyone in your family heals, and that they continue to rise up in this world. Above all, I hope you are happy.

I love you.

Yours always,

Porsia

Finish the following analogy: Buffalo chicken sandwich is to the suspenders, as jello shots is to... the correct answer is: Love.

My mother has always told me I have terrible posture. “Saca pecho Manta.” Shoulders back, boobs out, chin parallel to the ground, and most importantly Latina bootyliciousness (or lack thereof) out.

You know those personal signals you learn to watch out for with regard to yourself, and your mind. I have two, and when they go on, little red flags shoot up. (1) I start to blush uncontrollably in situations that should not matter. (2) I look at the ground when I walk to avoid eye contact or having my existence acknowledged.

Today, I challenged the sidewalk to a staring contest, and it met me with an unfaltering stare. As I was examining every canary flower on the linen of my flats, and memorizing every crevice and crack on the sidewalk, befriending every puddle or mound of mud, I pulled all the books in my mind off the shelves, searching for answers.

Why was I looking down? Hoping to be swallowed by the world? Because I am not proud of who I am at the moment.

*******

Quick intermission to cross the street.

*******

1) why are my academics going down the drain?

2) Why am I not fulfilling my duties as a daughter and c0-head of the family?

3) Why am I so selfish lately?

4) Why am I such a shitty friend?

5) Why am I always blackout drunk as of late?

6) Why have my priorities shifted in a negative way?

7) Why the fuck is my social life so important to me?

8) Why am I such a bitchy girlfriend?

9) Do I still believe in love?

10) Who am i?

The gum wrapper on the sidewalk didn’t have any input or advice.

I want a support system. Im not used to having a support system. I’m not sure about the relationship I am in. Im the romantic idealist. I play it safe. I’m lucky to have such a great guy as a boyfriend. The fact that a person of the opposite sex treats me right scares the shit out of me. I want the internship. Will I get it? If I get it, do I do something for myself and take it, or do I go home and put my mother first? I need to be a better daughter. When do I let go? Do I ever let go? Especially if I am all she has? Who else will take care of her?

Decisions, decisions.

And then, to put the cherry on top, my father calls. The so-called father, more of a sperm donor really. Why cant I forgive him? I can forgive the two bastards responsible for all the distrust I have in the opposite sex, but I can’t forgive the lesser evil that is my father for abandoning me, picking me up, setting high and increasingly higher expectations and dropping me everytime?

Question 1: do I drop the past or hold onto it?

· A) Forgive and Forget

· B) We are a sum of our experiences

· C) DGAF it and drink

· D) be morally correct : A&B

· E) none of the above

The correct answer is Ralph Waldo Emerson:

· “Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”

You want to know the formula I used to reason that one out?

There is no formula.

There are no right answers.

There are only relative solutions.

Think about it? Can you ever really know ANYTHING for certain???

No. everything you hold true, as simple as the fact that 2+3=5 could be completely wrong. You could have been spoonfed bullshit about everything you’ve ever known.

But at the same thing, everything you know is real and true.

Everything that you know is real and true is real and true RELATIVE to YOU because you give it its value. By making everything that you know is real and true, real and true in your mind, you make it real and true.

What’s the reality of the situation? Everyone’s reality is real. But everyone’s reality is different.

Fuck.

So what I’m altruistically, but kind of self-righteously, saying in this stream-of-consciousness-like disclosure is that I am the center of my universe?

Selfish no?

Fuck. Now im selfish and completely to blame for everything in my life.

If chose to switch the following in my mind, and use the terms according to my definition for the rest of my life, say George W. Bush and toilet, that would be my reality. Our former president would legitimately be a receptacle holding fecal matter as its center, and the toilet would be equated with 8 years of the downward spiraling of our nation. I mean that may be my actual reality, but that is beside the point.

Your reality is what you make it.

Mind over matter.

So maybe being the center of my universe isn’t all horrible? What about all that I have done right?

That’s the product of my decisions.

You know what else that means? That from this second until the next I can start over. Shift my reality, my habits, my choices, my morals, my mindset into a different mode. And maybe it wont overlap into everyone else’s reality, but it sure as hell will change mine, and maybe that will be enough. Maybe people will notice that I want to be the best me I can. That I want to come from a place of love. That I have made horrible decisions in the past few months, but that I can start over tomorrow morning when I ritually repeat the phrase “en nombre de Dioz” as I bid goodbye to the picture of my mother and my 7-year old self sitting on my windowsill, take 9 steps to my door, double check that I have my keys, look into my room one last time to make sure nothing will catch fire and burn Dickson down, take a deep breath, and shut my door tight, ready to face the world one more day.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll smile at the guy in my modern philosophy class who I think is an arrogant dimwit. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make a to-do list and finish. Maybe tomorrow I’ll apologize to my friends for being an ingrateful drunken bitch of a friend, and tell them how much I love them. Tell them that they are something that has gone right in my life. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell my boyfriend about my life, maybe I’ll trust him, and his intentions, and revert to my idealistic ways, and recognize that he is good, that he is good to me. Maybe I will tell him he has made my life brighter. Maybe I will call my mother and actually listen to her scold me for the first 17 minutes of conversation and tell her that I miss her every morning when I get dressed and remember when she put my hair in ponytails every day before day care. Maybe I’ll stop drinking for the carefree feeling that comes with being high and start dancing for the high that comes from the liberation of dancing without a care in the world. Maybe Porsia, and Steph, and Matt, and Babes, maybe I will tell you that I love you.

Because I do.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll ween myself off the pavement, and feel the sun on my face, notice the warmth of the couple holding hands, and astounding beauty of the campus that has brought me what may be some of the first, and most real sensation of ecstasy, and hope, and happiness, and love.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll look up.

To the muse within us all.

Breathe.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

-Marianne Williamson

Sam,

We are destined for a glorious existence if we so choose. We are living a glorious existence, if you take the time to look. Right at this moment, you are love.

Sometimes we get lost in the negativity, we get lost in our struggles, our pains, our vulnerability. And we will always feel such emotions. But don’t settle for the one sided affair. Don’t lose yourself in the self pity, the emptiness, the constant beating yourself up for making mistakes. Because doing so does not make you free, it does not let you live, it does not bring you closer to love.

We must realize that we will fall, we will screw up. And we will disappoint some people, we will cry. We will be mean, we will be made fun of.

And yet, we will rise. There is a greater aspect of life that we miss out on when we linger in our shadows. The light in our lives is overwhelming. We are beautiful people. We are love. We are hope. We will always laugh, we will always have friends, we can always try again if we fail the first time.

My dear friend, life brings us all down sometimes, but stand tall. Get back on your feet. Pat yourself on the back., you are doing just fine. We all get confused, and we may never reach full clarity, but thirst for the unknown, for mystery, for knowledge, for truth. Grab life by the hand, and plundge forward into the deep blue depths. Your vision may be cloudy, the water might be cold, but take a shot, take a chance.

Say yes.

Thank you for being you.

With love,

Your best friend forever,

Your muse,

Your constant,

Porsia

Dear Red,

i think i need a muse? (male though, unless muses can be male or female, but usually theyre female).

anywho,

my inspiration and motivation are abnormally low.

my open mind is more closed than i would have ever anticipated or hoped.

so i have come to you for help.

Words of wisdom?

maybe you can be my muse lol.

im also incredibly confused.

i will have passion and love in my life.

i hope.

miss you inexpressible amounts,

tu latina

Dear Red,

Perhaps the purpose of the nightmares and sporadic, surreal, spurts of pain in our lives, is to remind us to look around at the small miracles in every average minute of every average day, to give an (arguably unneeded) standard of comparison; we are human, we fall, but next time you do, pay attention to the beauty of the moment in which you lift your head up, the glory and the power and the courage in that moment where you have shifted from kneeling vulnerability, to an individual standing unconquerable beyond the grasp of the coward that is fear.

More to come,

all my love,

as always,

Sam

Blind Ethics

Samantha,

What are we, as human beings, meant to do in this world? If I may, let me answer this as purely as possible. I believe we are meant to love. I believe we are meant to live in solidarity with one another and practice the art of compassion and empathy. I believe that we are called to attend to the most vulnerable, to the most in need. I believe we are called to live freely and openly. I believe that the human race is good, and that evil holds no place here.

But what are we really meant to do here?

And then I think, are we called to be completely selfless? In our lives, is it more important to make oneself happy or to create happiness for others? Is there a balance of creating your own happiness while also creating the happiness for others?

I find myself wishing I was filled with answers, with infinite knowledge, with everlasting desire that never burns out.

What is happiness? Lately, I don''t even know what the word means anymore. In our constitution it states that we have a right to the pursuit of happiness. What the hell does that even mean?

I think about the life that I live. I constantly make decisions in order to make other people happy, in order to make life better for others. And yet recently, I feel as though I am missing something. There is a wide gap, gnawing at my pathetic soul and I wonder why this feeling is so present at this very moment. I preach carpe diem, I tell others to risk, to dream, to pursue. And then I look at my life, and I wonder, when have I ever done any of these? Why do I not seize the day? Why do I never think, "What would Porsia do?"

Sam, money is holding me back. I have become that person. I fear being in debt, like my family is now. My heart is absolutely breaking. I wish I could help my dad and my mom. I wish I could make everything better. I wish that money held no purpose, that all people really had the chance at being happy. My dad tells me how lucky I am that I have the job of being a resident adviser, how lucky I am that I get a scholarship, that I won't be in debt after college. But all I can think about are the things I will be missing out because of it. Since I am always thinking about money, I ignore opportunity. I ignore the professors who plead with their students to study abroad, to experience new places. I look at people who throw their money away on chance, and am horrified inside. It has been instilled in me that risking and taking chances is only a laughing matter, that security and caution is the route to take. But I feel as though that road is so empty, so unfulfilling. But at the same time, I feel as though, it is selfish of me to give up scholarships for the sake of having fun, for the sake of my own happiness. And this is where I ask that question: What are we as people meant to do in this world? I want to do good, Sam, I want my kids to take chances. I want my kids to live a full life. But what is the full life? Who determines it?

I don't know what to do. I am unsure as to who I am becoming, but I sure as hell know that I do indeed love life. That although I do not play with risks, I can still seize the day. I can still live.

I am blind. But I once heard it said that "only the blind can truly see".

Love always,

Porsia

The Last Domino

Dear Red,

I cannot say I have never felt this scared. That is not what makes my current situation so deplorable.

I have never felt so overwhelmed with disappointment.

I have never felt so angry.

and if there is one thing you know about me, is that I do not get angry.

The nature of humanity, or particularly the nature of one person has made me reconsider my faith in man.

This self-proclaimed idealist has been let down by one of those closest to her, who has turned to manipulation and injustice in a Machiavellian attempt to justify her own ending success.

"Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer."

--> I cannot decide whether this could be more false, or ironically and painfully true. For when those you trust the most betray you, you have succeeded in following this adage more closely and perfectly, backwards and forwards, regularly and inversely, than one could ever expect.

For the first time I can ever identify, I have had to tell myself not to by into my own malice and anger. I have had to ward off anger?

Luckily for me, a spicy red pops into my head, reminding me that benevolence and love will always win.

You know why? you? yes you? anyone else reading this...

Anyone stumbling upon this tidbit, do you want to know why love will always triumph?

because hatred and deception and all things of the sort, are so utterly confused by love, they know not where to begin attacking it. Because even if they attack and injure Love, it will be ineffectual. Love knows not hatred or injury, and its only remedy or rebuttal is to Love more. Hatred can never match the artillery of Love. Love needs not weapons or pain-inflicting tools. It has a power unmatched by anything or anyone.

Love confounds anything that knows it not. Eliminating any enemies by default.

Love will always remain undefeated.

...

...

suck on that bitch.

(and that is as angry as I will allow myself to be.)

to you, who is attempting to inject my life, and the life of the person i love most in this world with pain and doubt, i will say this:

I will never sink down to your level.

I will battle your injustice with morality, and love, and the only tools i have been given. And you know what? the love in my life (from Red, and the people i love) nullifies any and all fucking hatred you could possibly conjure.

what a juxtaposition of expletives and idealism, a tad hypocritical SORRY. but im human, still an idealist through it all though.

I love you Red.

thanks for reading.

thanks for loving.

thanks for being you.

im listening/reading.

your turn,

amorvincitomnia,

sam

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again- Phantom of the Opera

Dearest Friend,

I woke up this morning to a wall post you left me saying "I'm lost". What a coincidence, I believe I am too. And it is even more ironic, since Lost, the show, premiered last night! It is quite interesting how some days you can feel so on top of the world, so euphoric, and alive; and the next day, you can feel so utterly confused, apathetic, and alone. I think the feeling that tortures me the most is loneliness. And yet, I am nearly never physically alone. Friends are over often. I am busy with clubs and classes. I see people all the time. But for some reason there is a void. I feel incomplete. I feel as though, every day, there could be something more, someone else, just something.

I find myself listening to sad songs, I find myself depressed. And I think why? I have a good life. I have so much. And maybe this is just what life does sometimes. It gets you down, to raise you back up again. Perhaps we must all go through funks, perhaps we must feel loneliness in order to appreciate when we have people that truly matter in our lives.

I wish you were somehow here again. Nostalgia takes over sometimes and I get lost in my past and I wonder why I can't freeze time, why I can't have more time when life is good.

Remember the story I told you about those Washington boys who visited? I think I am in love with one of them. And I use the word "love" lightly. But there isn't anything I can really do about it. That feeling is the worst. Knowing that you cant really be in love after meeting someone for a day, but at the same time feeling this beautiful connection that has to mean something. Maybe I just so badly want to be in love with someone. Maybe I have become so obsessed with the idea of love that it has lost some of it's meaning. I do not know.

Sam, I want to love freely. I want to be me again. I don't like feeling lost.

I miss you. And I thank you for being someone I can love and someone who loves me.

It is February, and I believe this year has perhaps not started like I have wanted it to. I want to do better, I want to be better. I want LOVE.

But most importantly, I need to remain idealistic although it has become hard to do so. I must believe in life, in people, in love. Because if I stop believing, that is the moment I stop living. That is the moment I sell my soul to the cynics. And I have seen the kind of life they live Sam. And it is so empty. It is how I feel now, and no happiness comes from it. Tell me to fight on Sam, tell me a passionate life, although filled with pain, is much more worth living than a lifeless existence, where I would feel nothing and never be sad.

Barely breathing,

Porsia

P.S. "hardening" was not meant to be sexual in any way. especially because i lack that extra appendage.

Dearest Red,

today has been one of those days where ive allowed a bit of pessimism to seep in.

I am worried.

I feel like I am hardening. my empathy has fled me. as have my tears.

even my urge to write has been obliterated.

temporarily i hope.

i know what to do. i just can't.

thanks for listening as always,

hanging on by a thread,

sam

Waiting for the Sun

Dearest Naked Friend,

This is a brilliant idea. A place where we can write freely, dream, hope, and most of all love.

I am wearing my Kai-rock (spelling??) right now. And every time it hangs around my neck, I am reminded of a friendship. A friendship that is unlike any other. A friendship that has taught me how to be better. The stone is not merely a reminder, but the embodiment of love. And although it is a tangible object, it is our connection. When I am wearing it, you are standing with me, making sarcastic remarks about the blond across the hall, telling me to keep moving forward, helping me to not give up just yet.

I'll be honest, sometimes I want to give into it all. I just want to settle for the ordinary life becuase it would be easier. Surrounding me, I see bliss, I see ignorance, I see happiness. Would ignorance bring me happiness? People settle for "average" every day. But for some reason God won't let me settle. Even if I try, He somehow reminds me to press on, that I must not merely be content, but filled with passion and empathy. Why? Well I think God needs people like us becuase the world must come alive again. By being extraordinary, we let others believe they can be the same. Instead of the gray skies that seep through the dreariness of our world, we must look higher then the shaded clouds. Beyond the clouds, there is light, and this light comes from the infinite power of the sun. And although the clouds may block the sun's eletric rays, the sun always returns and shines brighter then it ever has. So we press on, we wait for the sun.

So here's to waiting, here's to living, here's to hoping.

Oh and Sam, find me a fricken man! Love you forever. And I think my boobs actually have gotten bigger... maybe not...

love always,

your red head.

l'inizio/ el inicio

dear Porsia,

it's been about two and a half years since that fateful day when my Hogwartz bookbag and recently-acquired HP book brought us together in the least conventional of places, a hospital. since then, i have come to acknowledge that bespectacled ginger as my unofficial sibling. we have had our rows, and our reconciliations, months of separation, and minutes that bring unprecedented enlightenment. We've grown taller (or at least i have, you remain "fun-sized" haha, shrimp), older, and arguably wiser, and our boobs have grown. oh wait, typo, our boobs have failed to grow.

Approximately 912ish days later, we find ourselves with concave breasts and without men. Yet, for what we lack in strategically placed body fat, we compensate with our love, idealism, and friendship.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

You know me better than most, and along with my habits of being approximately 15 minutes late to everything, you also know i failed at the journal we had planned to pass back and forth so as to bridge the 3000 mile gap between us. this is my way of "fixing it."

Let the i's be dotted, the t's crossed, the emotions felt, and ideas expressed,

but most of all let the idealism live on,

awaiting your response my fair, freckled friend,

(like the clever alliteration? because i am pleased with myself haha),

love always,

Sam