Pending Passions

Okay, way back in, I don't know, 2011, when I was still new to the world of social media and Tumblr, and when I was bored and extremely . . . wait, I think I was jobless when I wrote this. Anyway, way back then, I posted this on Tumblr. And I guess it really does still ring true today. The Twenty-First Time by Monk and Neagle Nowhere to live, nowhere to fall He used to have money, but he’s wasted it all. His face is a photograph burned in my mind, but I pretend not to see him for  the twenty-first time He sleeps under stars, that’s all he can afford His blanket’s an old coat he’s had since the war He stands on the corner of Carter and Vine But I pretend not to see him for  the twenty-first time He may be a drifter, he’s grown old and gray But what if he’s Jesus and I walk away? I say I’m the body and drink of the wine but I pretend not to see him for  the twenty-first time She’s twenty-nine but she feels forty-eight She can’t rai...

Way back in 1998, I remember watching the movie The Truman Show  and wondering if it's real. The horizon from here (For those who are not familiar with the movie, you missed half of your life. Kidding. It stars Jim Carrey and Ed Harris and a bunch of other actors acting as actors in the first reality TV show that shows actual reality but is a movie so of course it's not really real. You can also Google it.) Admittedly, until now I wonder if there are no hidden cameras around me or up in the sky or if everything that's happening in my life are all part of a script and the only variable would be me. And I see this type of wonder in other movies and cartoons and scripts. MIB , Dexter's Laboratory , even Horton Hears a Who question the possibility of someone much bigger than us looking through his microscope or telescope or magnifying lens and watching as puny humans like us try and make sense of the world we're living in. It is a question that so many have ven...

Knifed heart from here "When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, 'Do you want to get well?'" (John 5:6). "Duh," she said. "Of course, I want to get well. What kind of question is that?" She stared at her heart, conveniently placed in a glass case for everyone to see. The heart beat consistently, normally, because that's what hearts do. She spun the case on the lazy Susan of a table and watched it subtly jolt the heart back and forth, letting her know that it wasn't mounted in the most precisely balanced position. Precarious , she thought. The word you are going for is precarious. The heart stopped spinning and swinging on its mount. The lubb-dupp kept her entranced. Then she saw it, a tiny metallic glint reflected by the harsh fluorescent light of her room. It was only a slight protrusion. Like a lump in the heart's otherwise already lumpy structure. But i...

I am a branch. Trellis me. "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful" (John 15:1-2). For the longest time, I have feared that I would be a branch cut off and thrown into the fire. For the longest time, I have wondered of the patience God must have to still be keeping me attached to the vine. There have been moments when I tried to count the hours or days or years until I find myself totally lost and alone. How wrong I have been. *The following realization was made during the CCF Overflow Leadership Conference and the panic research conducted after.* When we say "cut off," we immediately think of being cast aside and separated, being of no use and thrown away. We think of being left in the dark, of being forgotten. We struggle with the thought of being a failure, of disappointing the people who matter t...

It was 10 in the evening and the rain whistled outside our house. I sat in the dining room, carefully putting words on paper and dreaming of what would happen next. My external hard disk had just acquired a virus and I was masking a nervous face from the world, wishing intently that my files will be safe. The virus scan would take longer than I expected and soon enough words brought my ideas to an end. The final part of chapter 3, which apparently is based on the cold rain pouring that night, led my character into lonely weeping but the prospects of the story were good. I closed my notebook and carried my laptop into my room where it would have to continue its diagnostics while I fought sleep.

She/He broke up with you. You got a failing grade. Your parents don't appreciate your efforts. Your friends make fun of you. You make fun of you. You have no idea what else to do. You just want to die. Well, let me tell you something--if you want to die, you will sooner or later. My advice for you is to choose later. This post is a rant, a sympathy and a challenge to all those who have attempted, will attempt or will attempt to attempt suicide. You're painting a very pretty picture of what you want, dude. READ ME.

What is love? We’ve all been asked that question. We’ve all asked that question. And we all have tried to answer that question. This post has been taken from my other blog whose link can be found at the end of this article.   There is definitely no right or wrong answer because the answer to that question depends on the person answering.