Rumi
31 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in Culture, Love Tags: love, poetry, rumi
When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don’t try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.When someone asks what it means
to “die for love,” point
here.When lovers moan,
they’re telling our story.I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.When someone asks what there is to do,
light the candle in his hand.How did Joseph’s scent come to Jacob?
30 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in Dreams Tags: creativity, potential, someday
I know that somewhere inside of me there is a great mind looking to express itself. My work and my studies reflect only a small portion of this. I know that I have really great ideas and great things to contribute to the world. And someday I’ll be able to shine the way I think I should be shining. Someday.
Summer
29 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in Favorite Things, Los Angeles, Places I Go Tags: pool, smiles, summer, sunshine
It’s finally summer weather in LA. Spending Sunday at a pool in the Topanga Canyon listening to music like this. Hello Los Angeles band. Goodbye weekend of studying.
Adolescent
26 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in Love
I idolized Angela Chase. She was everything I wanted to become in the world. Dreamy, inquisitive and somehow smooth enough to have landed Jordan Catalano as her boyfriend.
I’m starting school again, in the midst of a somewhat bleak mindset. I’m hoping today’s session will revive my sense of purpose and drive.
I need to feel inspired.
Stairs
25 Aug 2011 Leave a Comment
in Los Angeles, Places I Go Tags: exercise, secret stairs, silverlake, walking tour

I love my friends who make me do things like this. Silverlake Stairs. Oof.
http://articles.latimes.com/2008/apr/14/health/he-nustairs14
Tagore
24 Aug 2011 7 Comments
in Culture, Favorite Things Tags: inspiration, poetry, rabindranath tagore
As a teenager, I was fascinated with Middle Eastern poets, particularly Rabindranath Tagore.
The Gardener XXXVIII
My love, once upon a time your poet launched a great epic in his mind.
Alas, I was not careful, and it struck your ringing anklets and came to grief.
It broke up into scraps of songs and lay scattered at your feet.
All my cargo of stories of old wars was tossed by the laughing waves and soaked in tears and sank.
You must make this loss good to me, my love.
If my claims to immortal fame after death are shattered, make me immortal while I live.
And I will not mourn for my loss nor blame you.

In class today, we discussed how culture affects ones ability to “know.” We discussed a lot of epistemology, which made my brain go, “YAYYYY!” I hadn’t talked about anything philosophy related since my undergraduate years and it’s always such a treat.

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