Category Archives: Musings

A Couple Questions for Myself

Why are you still so sad, Elewa? Don’t you know how wonderful this time is? How full of hope and potential this day is? Why must you carry the weight of yesterday, a weight that you’ve made heavier with your own judgments of yourself?

Why don’t you focus on what you can do, what you will do, what you want to do – why focus on what you haven’t done, what you can’t do, what you’ve failed to do? Why let yourself sit in this place where you can’t go anywhere?  Continue reading

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , ,

#extrovertstruggles

Particularly this semester, as my time at MIT comes to a close, I’ve been spending more one on one time with friends who mean more to me than the world. We’ve gone through a lot together, and I’ve learned who has my back, who can take my crap, and who I’d sacrifice basically everything for. But there are those times when the people go away, and all I’m left with are the problems I conveniently forgot about.  Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , ,

It’s that moment when you set down the pages, shut off the screen, and sit quietly in the darkness that surrounds you. Without knowing it, time sped by; without realizing it, you had been gone for a while. And you close your eyes as the dusts settles, as though afraid of the moment when you’ll realize that the world bound in words was only a dream.

The End of a Book

Tagged , , , , , ,

A Few of My Favorite Things

I love the smell of vanilla. That warm, heady scent full of sweetness and promises of rest. The scent of vanilla forces you to slow down in a way that the smell of flowers doesn’t. Flowers will make you smile; vanilla makes you stop. You have to stop and savor it, like the taste of thick, creamy hot chocolate as it flows over your tongue. That moment when you close your eyes and allow time to slow down just a little bit so the moment can last a little longer. That’s the smell of vanilla.  Continue reading

Tagged , , , , ,

Fighting Myself

It happened suddenly… it’s one of the reasons why I haven’t written in so long. On June 5th, I met a man who sees more in me than I’ve ever been willing to see in myself. Despite everything I throw at him he refuses to leave… if anything he becomes more stubborn to stay and show me how he sees me. He uses elegant words and phrases to tell me who I am to him, who God is to him, who he was and who he wants to be. I get tongue-tied, awkward in my own skin and fearing the day that he realizes what he’s done, and who I am. It’s taken a toll on me, this fear, and its come to the point that I’ve realized that its not his fault. It’s mine – and I’m tired of fighting myself.  Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

Uncertainty in Creativity

The problem with us dreamers is that we get used to things remaining as dreams. We never expect anything to come from our ideas. We simply have them like a security blanket – an assurance of what we could possibly do, while protecting us from the possibility of failure. We may never know whether or not our dreams could have come true or done any good, but at least we know it won’t do any harm.

Poor, poor dreamers, are we.  Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

The Real Battle

“Do you know what I want?”

“I don’t know, what do you want?”

“I was hoping you would be able to tell me.”  Continue reading

Tagged , , , , ,

I fell in love with a book today

It might have been because the day is gorgeous today. Even at 9AM when I was walking to church, the sun was high and warm, and the surroundings were just… lovely.

It might have been because of the sermon today. I’ve been praying for God to give me a love for His word, and the message talked all about how precious and powerful and wonderfully good the Word is. The resonance of truth really stuck with me as I began my walk back to campus.

I do believe it was because I felt God told me to slow down. Just on my way back home I was thinking about all the things I should do, and it was if His hand fell onto my shoulder and just, halted me. I looked around and noticed anew how beautiful the day was. To my left was a bench in the sunshine, and I decided to sit, and just be. Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , ,

Stuck Again

You had every intention to be productive. In fact, you went out of your way to avoid your room and head to a place where the chance for productivity would be much higher than only two feet away from your bed.

You open your computer, you make some calls, and then you come to a point where your brain is just… done.

You’re stuck.

You read pointless stories.

You check and recheck facebook.

You can feel your mind taking on the consistency of a ball of silly putty resting against your forehead.

Something inside you starts yelling at you, telling you to be productive.

And do what? you ask it. But you get no reply.

So you think about ways to be productive.

Only to find that you haven’t checked your facebook in the last ten minutes, and should probably check it again.

And your email too.

When you next look at the clock, it’s two hours past when you first sat down.

And you’ve gotten nothing done. Again.

Tagged , , ,

Wishing on Bubbles

I wish I could have my friends back.

It’s only happened three times, but for me it’s three times too many times. They were all dear to me, like brothers. And they all disappeared from my life without any kind of explanation.

I wish I could ask them why: what did I do wrong? When did this happen? Why was I the last to know that we were no longer friends? Well, I suppose I wouldn’t ask the last one.

I see them sometimes, and it baffles me how I used to know them so well a lifetime ago. Well, one of them is in Germany, so I don’t see him at all except when his posts come onto my Facebook newsfeed. Which counts, I suppose. But it’s sad too, in a way – Facebook friends, but not friends, really.

I still consider them to be my dear friends though. I’m not the kind of person who can forget what people mean to her easily. The memories will always stay with me: all the times we hung out, cried on each others shoulders, laughed together, helped each other….

But I suppose it’ll always be this way. After all, our lives have changed. I suppose we don’t know how to be friends anymore.

I don’t know why I do this to myself, but I always wish on bubbles. And they always pop in my face.

Tagged , , , , ,