Tag Archives: rambling


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

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It’s the simple things

It’s getting ice cream on a rainy, summer day.

It’s talking until two in the morning because you’re afraid of tomorrow.

It’s knowing there’s always something to do when you’re at a loss of where to go next.

It’s wearing the perfect outfit on a day you didn’t check the weather.

It’s getting a text from the one person you wanted to hear from most.

It’s getting a call when you were scared to reach out.

It’s having someone tell you the things you needed to hear.

It’s having the rose you picked last week last much longer than you thought it would.

It’s watching the flower you planted grow.

It’s knowing that someone is praying for you.

It’s getting to finally rest after pushing yourself for so long.

It’s getting a hug when you didn’t realize you needed one.

It’s the simple things… that I look for the most.

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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.

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Tired Already?

It’s strange, but I think I’m done with this now. This… school thing. Maybe it’s the effects of coming back from a magnificent spring break (the details of which I’ve been meaning to write down… I shall do so eventually, I hope), but all in all, it’s disconcerting just how much I don’t want to be here anymore.

I’m used to not having any initiative to do my work. That takes time, but it’s not impossible to overcome. I’m used to hitting a wall. Again, difficult, yet I’ve done it before and I can do it again. But this, this is new. It’s not that I don’t have initiative, it’s just that my heart is pulling me elsewhere. I don’t want to be by myself in lab doing research, I don’t want to be by myself doing psets, I don’t want to be by myself… at all.

I want to write. To disappear into my own little world which, honestly, looks so much better than this one, if only because it’s almost real. I want to keep writing and re-writing, and sharing with my friends and reading and thinking and learning to write. I want to sing. I want to run, I want to shout, I want to laugh. I want to love.

Now that I think about it, I was doing all that and more just last week.

So now I see it – I just miss it. I physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally, miss New Orleans.


But what can I do about it?

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A Scary Thought

“There must be something wrong with me.”

Continue reading

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Childlike Faith

Forgive me for my unorganized thoughts, but something just occurred to me. My sister, while sitting on the couch, was bemoaning the fact that she had to get up to get herself food. “I wish I was a baby,” she said. “Life was better back then.”

I wonder, though. It could be argued that babies are the most courageous and patient people on this planet. They enter a world they do not know, they are completely dependent as they slowly learn how to live, how to speak, how to take care of themselves. They take life as it comes, learning slowly and taking into consideration what it means to survive in this world. And they do it with a monumental faith that would be ground-breaking on any adult.

Think about it – when was the last time it was enough for us to trust only one person? To have one love as great as a mother’s love be enough? When was the last time we hungered for what would last us, instead of what would harm us? And when was the last time we took the simple pleasures to heart? When was the last time that we had the pure assurance that everything was going to be okay? Or that something as small as a first step was enough to make us smile? All of these things God calls us to, all of these gifts God wants to give us, and we had them all when we were still being held close to our mother’s bosoms.

Could it then be said that we were closest to God right after we were born? Maybe even before we were born?

I don’t know. Just curious.

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The Reason Why I Can’t Get Rid of Facebook

We all know Facebook is a demon spawn come to earth to completely erase whatever productivity and focus we had left in a plot to take over the world by turning us all into people who are ADD-2-second-news-selfies-and-hashtags obsessed. I know that it takes away the time that I could be using for work, and instead puts it towards passive self-comparisons and bombardments from media and interest-based advertisements. I’m more than aware that it’s not really a way to keep up with my old friends, but rather a way to keep them at a distance under the excuse of “I know how they’re doing; I just read their status update.” However, I try not to think about whether or not just as many people use Facebook to stalk me as I use it to stalk them. Despite all the things I have done to try to reduce my Facebook time (without having to remove  app from my phone or tablet so that I can at least see the newest status from my friends or quickly post one of my own), I return to Facebook because it sometimes rewards you. The same way a cat digs through the trash in order to find whether or not someone threw away something delectable today, I go past the overly political status updates and pointless buzzfeed articles for the chance that maybe I’ll find something worth seeing. There are days where, while falling for two hours down the bottomless News Feed, you find a gem. Like this one.

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The Lost Beauty of Words

“I don’t like reading. I prefer watching the movies.” Probably one of the most unfortunate things I’ve ever been close enough to hear. I’ve heard it several times, and every time it pains me in a way that I couldn’t truly describe. At first I thought it was just the sadness that comes from someone saying that your favorite pastime is not worth much to them, and at that moment you suddenly feel ostracized and alone and you react by either defending the integrity of a good read or simply shrugging it off and moving on. But after reading a beautifully penned story by one of the students in my Advanced Fiction Workshop, I realized that it’s not the pain of finding yourself in the minority, but rather the pain from seeing someone, knowing someone, who will never understand the beauty of a masterpiece painted with words.  Continue reading

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Anew… Again

I recently had an odd conversation with myself, one that revolved around why I was a Christian. It stems from my recent search for who I am, for who God is in my life, and all that kind of existentialist crap that I thought I’d never have to get myself into. Or rather, that I hoped I’d never have to get myself into. Yet it’s a hard question to avoid, especially as a sophomore in college not yet quite sure which direction her life is turning and yet ever so scared of missing a good turn. But that’s a tangent. Continue reading

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Things my dad used to say [2]

HUFPSUSU. Prounounced “huhfp-soo-soo”. The ever-so-clever acronym my father came up with to help us remember the sins most abominable to God: hypocrisy, unlove, fear, pride, slothfulness, unbelief, selfishness, and uncleanliness.

And I’ve found myself in the unfavorable circumstance of battling every single one of these. Continue reading

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