You have to treat time like a phenomenal, ancient pocket watch. It’s always been and will always be the same watch. If it wasn’t, we would know! However, it needs to be wound back up again. And so, the night before graduation, I rewind time. It feels like new, and it certainly is. The way time is rewound is different every single year. But the watch stays the same.
Something I’ve noticed more and more frequently: my peers and professors speak like a formal essay. By this, I mean they first give me the abstract synopsis/conclusion of what they are about to talk about. From there, they begin to tell me how they came to the conclusion through a specific, typically interesting story. Why not lead with the story and then give the conclusion? I have a much greater reason to listen to you if you give me some suspense! Speak like a good book: lay the ground work of a practical real-world example of a concept which you haven’t yet shared! From there, give me a story that I’ll be captivated by. Finally, tell me what’s significant about the story; see if we come to the same conclusions. See if our opinions differ. Good conversation comes from these complementary and contradictory opinions emerging from the same contexts!
I shouldn’t be frustrated by this, but my finals and other last minute semester-ending details are trying to eat away at my soul. More or less.
Without Facebook begins.
The twitching of hands has slowed. I don’t physically type out “www.facebook.com” into my browser when I’m being unproductive. I think myself typing it, and then get mad at myself. Withdrawal symptoms are going away slowly… agonizingly slowly.
While looking through the course catalog for registration, I’ve noticed some slightly terrifying issues:
What is the disease?
Typical answer: underfunding.
Summer approaches, but until then…
I’ve been elected one of the Senior Senators at UNC Asheville (neat!).
Also, I’ve been nominated for a student leadership award (double neat!).
America is a brilliant, strange country. One of the few countries that started out with the intent to be a democracy, America has a very short, quite bloody history: The puritan-lead violence against the indigenous peoples, the French Indian war, (not-so) revolutionary war lead by the colonial aristocracy, the war of 1812 (which was a bit more revolutionary), the civil war, WWI and WWII, and then the more modern imperialistic wars we have fought, which don’t need mentioning for this post.
So, throughout all of these wars, we have fought out way to being the “strongest” country in the world. Our Puritan-based work ethic, incredible belief in our righteousness, and our welcoming of brilliant minds to work, typically at developing better weapons, are a few of the many causes at the root of our success.
But how about our founding ideals? Democracy, the power of the individual to govern themselves, is at the root. But, we were structured as a country to be a representative democracy. Not only that, but a representative democracy with a fancy bill of rights! Freedom of speech is at the root of this document, and at the root of our mystique. However, our voices only matter in one place - at the polls. Otherwise, we certainly can make a lot of noise. It is quite futile, though. Mostly, we just talk at each other. Does this incredible belief in free speech as a catalyst empower us to impress our opinions on our peers without discretion or pause?
How presumptuous of us.
What a gorgeous mind!
TEDActive has left me recharged, enthusiastic, ready to change the WORLD.
Let’s do this, guys and gals. It’s a doable thing - all it takes is energy, optimism, and a group of similarly-motivated individuals. This is our future, and we can make it phenomenal.
I stole this idea from a friend of mine (and also from a TEDTalk). Every day, typically in the morning, I’ll be writing out 5 things I’m thankful for.
2/12/2013
2/13/2013
2/16/2013
2/17/2013
2/18/2013
2/19/2013
2/20/2013
2/22/2013
2/23/2013
It’s dirty in here!
There’s dust under those desires.
The dreams sleep upside
down in the rafters, and
the hopes are buried
under old, out-grown
clothes and textbooks.
Let those old fears
freeze in the basement.
Those old memories
are better left undisturbed.
Leave this space to the
me that can’t help but desire
the yous of the world.
You can try to figure out
who I really am, but
not from that place.
Look at my eyes,
or the way my hands
reach for the back of my neck.
Observe my external passions,
the things I create with my soul.
Some things are better left in chains.
If you want to know something specific, simply ask!
