Not Yet?

Today was seemingly the longest day every. Maybe it's because I attempted two naps today or because my naps were just really bad. No se. Let's see. I went to Arabic, then tried t nap, I stood by the letters, went to class, and tried to nap again, went to the rush event, went to Greek 101, went to Ali's place. I think it's just the latter portion of the day was filled with so much to do. That could be it.

On a brighter note: my poop book came today. It's the book I read while sitting on the crapper. It's Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point. I would have preferred Outlier or Blink but they were too expensive, so this will be good enough for the moment.

And the day continues on into the night.

Wait…I Didn’t Ditch School?

Sunday was a vacation day. I spent time and money for myself and my sanity. The relaxing and amiable tempo and vibe of the day, weather, and company are ineffable.

That is all.

The Pre-reqs of Life

I sometimes hate pre-reqs because they're not necessary. Sometimes they're very necessary. Like math for example. Try taking multi-var without single-var. HA! You'll have better luck translating Latin into English. But other classes, the pre-requisites are arguable, like English 1B for English 1C. I myself never took English 1B, so I'm not in a position to complain, but I've heard many people do it.

There comes a time when we realize the pre-requisites to the ways of life.

I firmly believe that love can solve all of the world's problems. Love for ourselves, love for others, love for anything that we believe in. With this love, we can resolve the issues of war, hunger, global warming, and financial crisis.

But I think I skipped a step. I was thinking with too much optimism. Not everyone can love. Not everyone knows how to love. Before we love, we must listen.

Some of the people that I don't enjoy interacting with, I've realized the main reason I don't like interacting with them is because they don't listen. Their repetition of what I say is more pedagogical or condescending than communicatory. Please don't teach me shit I just told you about.

So the lesson I learned: loving can only come from listening. To teach how to listen, I must open my ears first and be patient. I would like to make a case that patience is the pre-requisite for listening, but that's another blog-post.

When it Comes to Words

Whenever I have that regret and say to myself "I should quit and be a writer" , I usually just say that because the grass is greener on the other side. I really do enjoy to write except I don't think I love it as much as I do. I think I love it just as much as any normal person. Real writers, the ones who cannot put a pen down, suffer from writer's block. I on the other hand, a faker writer, have periods of writers flow. Instead of having this mental wall where nothing creative seems to come out, it's like the spigot is set to maximum flow and all these ideas come rushing out and I have to find a feasible way to get them on paper. If I were a real writer who truly loved it, they would all be on paper. But no, I'm a fake writer so they just stay in my head and the closest to paper they get is either here, digitally, or in the margins of my econ notes (if it's really special, it'll go in the back of the notebook on a whole sheet of paper!)