I feel like I write too much about love. I am sure there are other topics I could pick, but this one just seems to fit my mood. I think I was blessed with the ability to love and to see love. If I never find love, so be it, but I'm glad I know how it feels. There are things that are hard to describe, but when you see them, it feels like love. I love those moments.
Moments like watching snow fall or drinking a cup o' tea with your friends in a bus filled with loving souls. Moments when things just seem perfect and you can smell love by the means of hot food and logs burning in a fire.
I guess this is what Christmas time does to you. It really makes you think and find what is important in life.
I feel like ending it here, not because I am weary or incompetent, but because maybe someone will read this and stop and think about all the things they love like butterflies and summer swims. Maybe someone will have the courage to go out and love on people he/she has never met and knows nothing about. I love little kids(no pun) because of their ability to love anyone and everyone for their insides rather than physical appearances.
the thing that poets right about
the thing that singers sing about
the thing that flowers bloom for
the thing that stars shine for
the thing that babies laugh for
the thing that jesus died for
the thing that winners wait for
the thing that trees reach for
the thing that addicts stop for
the thing that widows die for
the thing that proud are humbled for
the thing that lonely are looking for
the thing that made me come alive
the thing that made me realize
that love is the most beautiful thing
that anyone can happen to
-bmh
I am glad you love me.
Hopefully this provokes your mind(Probably not though).
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007
Extragavant Love
One morning, with sleep still in my eyes, I headed to work and decided to stop of at a nearby gas station for a quick cup of coffee. This particular day was somewhat special. As I waited for my coffee, I saw something that made me tear up a bit. I’m doing a lot of that lately; there must be a lot of pollen or dirt in the air … or something.
Just ahead of me an old couple, probably in their 70s or 80s, pulled into a parking stall. I watched as the little old man slowly got out of the car, opened the trunk and pulled out a wheelchair. He folded the chair into the sitting position and wheeled it to the passenger’s side of the car, where he carefully and lovingly helped his beautiful little wife out of the car and into the chair. It was cold out this morning, and the fog was still lifting, so the old man reached into the back seat and grabbed a knitted blanket and tucked it around her shoulders. As he wheeled her away, I watched as he leaned down and gently kissed her on the cheek. As if it was the first kiss of their life together, she smiled, leaned into him, put her arm around his neck and hugged him tightly. As they walked off together, I was moved to my core.As I watched I couldn’t help but think of all the stories those two must share. Stories of young love, country roads and an old Chevrolet, a white wedding, the birth of their first child, the day he went off to war and the day he came home. How many moments of laughter have they shared? How many silent glances across a room? How many tears?People often ask me if I believe is the concept of “soulmates.” They wonder if love exists in the real world like it does in the movies. My answer is yes. Why? Because I see that kind of love extended to me by God. Scripture tells me that real love overcomes, real love gives, real love hopes and that real love is selfless (1 Corinthians 13). Two people who decide to receive the love of their God and then extend it to each other have the capacity to love more passionately and more extravagantly than any movie ever made.Love exists in moments. Moments like today when that old man kissed his wife, moments when we choose another over ourselves. I’m beginning to believe in love again, and today, in that moment, through the love of two old souls, God showed me that He still loves me.
Just ahead of me an old couple, probably in their 70s or 80s, pulled into a parking stall. I watched as the little old man slowly got out of the car, opened the trunk and pulled out a wheelchair. He folded the chair into the sitting position and wheeled it to the passenger’s side of the car, where he carefully and lovingly helped his beautiful little wife out of the car and into the chair. It was cold out this morning, and the fog was still lifting, so the old man reached into the back seat and grabbed a knitted blanket and tucked it around her shoulders. As he wheeled her away, I watched as he leaned down and gently kissed her on the cheek. As if it was the first kiss of their life together, she smiled, leaned into him, put her arm around his neck and hugged him tightly. As they walked off together, I was moved to my core.As I watched I couldn’t help but think of all the stories those two must share. Stories of young love, country roads and an old Chevrolet, a white wedding, the birth of their first child, the day he went off to war and the day he came home. How many moments of laughter have they shared? How many silent glances across a room? How many tears?People often ask me if I believe is the concept of “soulmates.” They wonder if love exists in the real world like it does in the movies. My answer is yes. Why? Because I see that kind of love extended to me by God. Scripture tells me that real love overcomes, real love gives, real love hopes and that real love is selfless (1 Corinthians 13). Two people who decide to receive the love of their God and then extend it to each other have the capacity to love more passionately and more extravagantly than any movie ever made.Love exists in moments. Moments like today when that old man kissed his wife, moments when we choose another over ourselves. I’m beginning to believe in love again, and today, in that moment, through the love of two old souls, God showed me that He still loves me.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Hello Bill O'Reilly, I have a question?
Something provoked me to write a new blog. I don't know if it is the fact that someone or no one gets anything out of this but it hardly matters now, since you, diligent reader, are already reading this wondering if I am a total psycho. Either way, my monologue of ramblings that I have been recording since the beginning of this week have proven some signfigance to myself in the idea of that I might actually learn something in direction towards my life. I guess this whole paragraph is a tiny tid-bit of why I write blogs and do the things I do.
Blantly, I'd like to serve out a couple thank-you's to a few people who have made this week noteworthy.
O.J. Simpson, thank you for brightening up my day. You have really proven to us all what a great person you truly are. If it wasn't for your headline on CNN, part of my week would be missing. Always remember, if the glove does not fit, you must acquit.
Black Americans and those alike fighting for racial justice, you really showed me how our country has progressed little since the times of MLK and Malcom X. When a white man can hang a noose from a tree and get off with nothing, while six black boys are put in jail for attempted murder at a school fight something is disturbingly wrong. I find this whole situation distraught but somewhat humorous. Oh society, just when you think racism is forever rolling in the dust, an incident like the Jena 6 brings it back for the death rattle. I suppose death rattle is not the appropriate term for the topic at hand here. Racism is still very much at hand, and is still very much a powerful, moving issue in the United States. Black Panthers, Stand Tall.
As of now, my week is ending in a semi-akward state. A few things have turned around for me, but a few others have dug themselves deeper into this rich, lush soil we call Freedom.
And to you, my good friend, have a joyous birthday. May the Lord bless you as you embark, no, begin the rest of your life. I know you might be a little nervous but I think that it could be the beginning of something very genuine and heartfelt.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday dear you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Jump off the bridge and take some risks. You still have the rest of your life.
That goes for all of you.
Blantly, I'd like to serve out a couple thank-you's to a few people who have made this week noteworthy.
O.J. Simpson, thank you for brightening up my day. You have really proven to us all what a great person you truly are. If it wasn't for your headline on CNN, part of my week would be missing. Always remember, if the glove does not fit, you must acquit.
Black Americans and those alike fighting for racial justice, you really showed me how our country has progressed little since the times of MLK and Malcom X. When a white man can hang a noose from a tree and get off with nothing, while six black boys are put in jail for attempted murder at a school fight something is disturbingly wrong. I find this whole situation distraught but somewhat humorous. Oh society, just when you think racism is forever rolling in the dust, an incident like the Jena 6 brings it back for the death rattle. I suppose death rattle is not the appropriate term for the topic at hand here. Racism is still very much at hand, and is still very much a powerful, moving issue in the United States. Black Panthers, Stand Tall.
As of now, my week is ending in a semi-akward state. A few things have turned around for me, but a few others have dug themselves deeper into this rich, lush soil we call Freedom.
And to you, my good friend, have a joyous birthday. May the Lord bless you as you embark, no, begin the rest of your life. I know you might be a little nervous but I think that it could be the beginning of something very genuine and heartfelt.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday dear you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Jump off the bridge and take some risks. You still have the rest of your life.
That goes for all of you.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
An informal greeting
Basing my mood on today's events, I'm still in sort of a melancholy state. While the rain dripped down my car window I thought about all the motives I have for not taking the wheel and swerving my car into oncoming traffic. To state myself here would be ridiculous for the list of reasons as to why I care to exist is extremely too long, nor do I care to explain myself to everyone in this world.
Writing is sometimes my form of medication. Everytime I swallow that 1000 mg pill of prose and pointless satire, it kind of numbs my insides from everything else, just focusing on what is at hand.
Once again I would like you to invite you into this world of mine. Updates will be coming more frequently as I have additional time to humor myself and hopefully some of you.
I'll see you all again soon.
Writing is sometimes my form of medication. Everytime I swallow that 1000 mg pill of prose and pointless satire, it kind of numbs my insides from everything else, just focusing on what is at hand.
Once again I would like you to invite you into this world of mine. Updates will be coming more frequently as I have additional time to humor myself and hopefully some of you.
I'll see you all again soon.
Monday, September 17, 2007
compelling thought;maybe I'm just tired
It's 12:54 in the morning, and I'm sitting in front of a computer screen, writing a god-forsaken blog for some reason, wondering how many people are going to tap into this world of mine. It sounds so cliche to say I have had an epiphany or whatever your fingers dial up to call a sense of knowing and change. Nonetheless, things in my mind have been really wondering, searching for a reason as to why I am walking this earth. I couldn't come up with a definant answer. Maybe that's the way life is. There are no answers. We live for meaning, but without answers, we all wonder why in the hell we are here. For some odd motive, I kind of like this no answers, no reason, kind of feeling. At least for the time being. It gives me a chance to wonder, to think, to philosophize. Life is what it is. It is fucked up, and sometimes seems as if there is no point,but it is sort of all we have, you know? My life is nothing out of the ordinary really. I'm just a young adult trying to make sense of everything. But the thing I find funny about life is that we all want to be somebody, to change the world persay, but how many of us will actually follow up on our dreams and make a difference. We are all a bunch of hypocrites. I want to be different. I want to live like no one else has before. I want to go to a place so far gone that no one could even imagine the pain and abhorrence that goes on there. This is who I am, and I guess this is a sad excuse for a blog, but if the point of life is to be who you are, then I guess I am right on track.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
a little dribble..potentially.
Awake.
He awakes from a deep sleep, in which he sees himself. Years from now. His eyes are bloodshot from the coke. The smell of piss and alcohol fill the room. His family, is no where to be found. He is alone, with not enough money to crave his addiction. Things have changed dramatically since freshman year. His bestfriend of six years has vanished from his life, and the only things left supporting him is that 40 oz. bottle and a rusty needle incapacitated with drugs and pain.
He picks up the blade, not knowing how irresistible it will become to him. It will soon be imbedded into his life, like a part of his soul. His new infatuation is taking toll.
He needs someone. A hand to pull him out of his guilt-stricken undulation.
Days pass and he, whoever he is, continues down that road of despair. A whirlwind of elapsed memories and recollections fly through his head, as he drags his feet toward his next mistake. A woman with soft features and a charming smile catches his eye. Little did he know what this woman was about to change his life.
He awakes from a deep sleep, in which he sees himself. Years from now. His eyes are bloodshot from the coke. The smell of piss and alcohol fill the room. His family, is no where to be found. He is alone, with not enough money to crave his addiction. Things have changed dramatically since freshman year. His bestfriend of six years has vanished from his life, and the only things left supporting him is that 40 oz. bottle and a rusty needle incapacitated with drugs and pain.
He picks up the blade, not knowing how irresistible it will become to him. It will soon be imbedded into his life, like a part of his soul. His new infatuation is taking toll.
He needs someone. A hand to pull him out of his guilt-stricken undulation.
Days pass and he, whoever he is, continues down that road of despair. A whirlwind of elapsed memories and recollections fly through his head, as he drags his feet toward his next mistake. A woman with soft features and a charming smile catches his eye. Little did he know what this woman was about to change his life.
i like boring things...
i love the grass. i love the sky. i love the stars. i love the world. i love the air. i love the trees. i love the dirt. i love to dance. i love to sleep. i love to dream. i love to be dreaming. i love pillows. i love eyes. i love hair. i love noses. i love clouds. i love literature. i love coffee. i love water. i love TEA. i love not having drinking soda in over a year. i love seeing everything. i love imagining. i love to love. i love my feet. i love your feet. i love no shoes. i love rain. i love cold. i love sweaters. i love cardigans. i love bob. i love sunglasses. i love snuggle. i love blankets. i love pastels. i love paint. i love writing. i love seeing. i love believing. i love thinking. i love philosiphizing. i love questioning. i love to smile. i love to frown. i love to smirk. i love to be deep.
i want to be a leaf, for leaves are the most beautiful of all plants. they are kind of like people. whispering in the wind, holding on during a rough storm, and yet they all are beautiful, just in the right moments.
i want to be a leaf, for leaves are the most beautiful of all plants. they are kind of like people. whispering in the wind, holding on during a rough storm, and yet they all are beautiful, just in the right moments.
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