One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one- Agatha Christie
Peace is not the absence of war; it is a virtue; a state of mind; a disposition for benevolence; confidence; and justice.- Baruch Spinoza
Never, "for the sake of peace and quiet," deny your own experience or convictions.- Dag Hammarksjold
You can't shake hands with a clenched fist. - Indhira Gahndi
Namaste. I honour the place in your where the entire universe resides... a place of light, of love, of truth, of peace, of wisdom. I honour the place in you where when you are in that place and I am in that place there is only one of us. - M.K. Gahndi
"A Rush of Blood to the head" - Coldplay
He said I'm going to buy this place and burn it down
I'm going to put it six feet underground
He said I'm going to buy this place and watch it fall
Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls
Oh I'm going to buy this place and start a fire
Stand here until I fill all your heart's desires
Because I'm going to buy this place and see it burn
Do back the things it did to you in return
Ah, ah, ah
He said Oh I'm going to buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
Oh and I'm going to buy this place, that's what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head to the head
(And) honey
All the movements you're starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
Start as you mean to go on
He said I'm going to buy this place and see it go
Stand here beside my baby watch the orange glow
Some'll laugh and some just sit and cry
But you just sit down there and you wonder why
So I'm going to buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
And I'm going to buy this place, that's what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head
And honey
All the movements you're starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
As you mean to go on, as you mean to go on
So meet me by the bridge, meet me by the lane
When am I going to see that pretty face again
Meet me on the road, meet me where I said
Blame it all upon
A rush of blood to the head
![★»»[A nomad with a destiny]««](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizrlhBpGjkeUSCijATFldL-iBQ4muCGqi2im0-zikH02KtY2rva63ZZuZvEUaoDMzlkNAcsg4gfew4z7Jn2aVUNqwz3UcoQE4ymN7E7F7Ow-9dIdQHpnGbKCWN2GjOtFoHPTdLisbUbb8/s1600/nomad+2010.bmp)
Showing posts with label Things I wish I could say. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Things I wish I could say. Show all posts
Friday, May 14, 2010
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Dad - part of the untold story
I don't really talk about my dad. In all honesty, I'll admit that I avoid thinking about him as much as possible. However, my tumulous relationship with him marginally defines my view of men, my fears and my own relationships.
My dad was never really there. For circumstances I can't quite explain, my parents were split for 9 years, which began when I was 1 & 1/2. They did, however manage to get back together when I was somewhere between 9 and 10, and thus my little brother, whom I'll nickname Chino, came to be.
After almost 7 years together again, my parents decided to move to the US from Dominican Republic. Much debate ensued from the idea, and finally, my mom moved to the US and my dad was left behind to finish up the process. Except it never quite finished.
Again, for circumstances I can't quite explain, my dad never made it to the US.
Instead, he found a mistress, whom happened to be a family friend whom we knew from church. Yes, there is ugly in this world, and I'll admit that my dad having such a richeous and do-gooder attitude and character bit him in the ass. This would also be the part where I mention that my grandfather, whom I love and adore, also had a mistress whom was my grandmother's niece. The real reason I mention this is because my dad, richeous do-gooder as aforementioned, was ruthlessly judgemental of my grandfather's affair; and then ended up having to choke on his own words.
Anyhow, my relationship with my father has always been tumultous, conflicting.
I was a free-spirited child. I was, by no means an angel. I was curious as hell, and sneaky too. I will however give myself some credit and say that I was on the good side of things. I was pretty much your average kid.
I don't mean to critize my dad in a negative light, I understand that as parents, no-one hands you a guide book on how to discipline your kid and how to raise them to be honorable, well-rounded, disciplined individuals. I know in my heart of hearts that he had the very best intentions in mind and that he loves me.
But, as we say Amor no quita conocimiento (love does not take away knowledge). My dad was not the easiest person to get along with. He has such a rough personality, a rough character. He fails to understand the power of his words and his critique, both for positive and negative. In many ways, his harsh ways are part of the mold for my own character and also the demon behind my own insecurities.
In his effort to build a strong character in me, he has also left vestiges of fear and self-doubt that I constantly struggle with. I'll admit that, to this day, I constantly seek for my parent's approval in everything I do, out of fear and respect. This has also caused me alot of pain, and sacrifice, but I just don't feel right when my parents dissaprove of something I've decided to do. I feel hindered, like there are chains over my shoulder. I feel like there is a black cloud over my head wherever I go.
My main gripe about him has always been that he fails to realize that you catch more flies with a teaspoon of honey than a barrel of vinegar.... and quite the barrel he had.
He was a cadet, it was his dream to be an army man, but for medical reasons, he had to drop out. He was always very strict, organized and methodical from a young age, according to what my grandmother has told me. These strict views collided with my need for independence and liberty and space. During my high-school years, I was usually only allowed to go 3 places: Church, school, and my grandmother's house. Other than that, I had to be with either parent everywhere I went.... all the way through Senior year in highschool.
Yeah.... about that. This triggered me to learn how to climb out the balcony, over the roof, walk the wall between my house and my neighbor's and jump over the 15ft fence in my house. Yes, I did. This was my only way to see the world, even if it was only to catch a cab to my bestie's house to sit on her porch and talk bs with a group of people. To this day, I wonder if I really got away with it, or if he turned a blind eye on me and let me THINK I got away with it. I haven't made up my mind yet.
Nowadays, my dad is in Spain. From what I know, he has officially broken away from the mistress. Then again, we hardly ever talk, so what do I know, really?
During the years we lived together, my dad hardly acknowledged birthdays. He would usually wake me up earlier and express, in a very formal tone, that he wished that I had a good day, and I had the opportunity to have many more birthdays. I don't know bout y'all, but to my 11 year old self, this was rather puzzling and quite dissapointing.
This year, however, he managed to remember my birthday, early even. It's this Thursday, and he already called my mom and spoke to her because I was alseep yesterday.
He sent a present this year, all the way from Spain. He also sent a card.
Although many people see this as customary and unimpressive.... it means the world to me.
I'm literally in tears over it.
He sent the meaning of both my first and second name, in little framed boxes.
These have a personal meaning. In my grandmother's house, where I lived for part of my childhood, there were two sets, one for my grandmother, and one for my grandfather; and I would always look at these in awe, because of how simple and charming they were. I remember mentioning to my dad that I wanted a set of my own at some point. Now, I have my own.
The real reason I'm writing this post is for anyone out there with a kid. Anyone out there with a daughter, any dads that might happen to be reading this.
Know that, as a man, and as a father figure, you mold your child's personality and your actions impact very profoundly on their lives. Know that your lack of expression of affection will not go unnoticed in them, and will leave them craving for something only you have: true, uninterested love and aprooval.
Know that you are the stick to which they measure the men they will have their lives, and in your absence, the only other way they end up judging men is through facts, hearsay and trial & error.
So, if you happen to have a daughter, tell her she is the most beautiful child on this earth and make sure she knows you love her.
As for me, I've added my little frames to my wall. I promise to post a picture later on.
Night night y'all.
-Jezz
My dad was never really there. For circumstances I can't quite explain, my parents were split for 9 years, which began when I was 1 & 1/2. They did, however manage to get back together when I was somewhere between 9 and 10, and thus my little brother, whom I'll nickname Chino, came to be.
After almost 7 years together again, my parents decided to move to the US from Dominican Republic. Much debate ensued from the idea, and finally, my mom moved to the US and my dad was left behind to finish up the process. Except it never quite finished.
Again, for circumstances I can't quite explain, my dad never made it to the US.
Instead, he found a mistress, whom happened to be a family friend whom we knew from church. Yes, there is ugly in this world, and I'll admit that my dad having such a richeous and do-gooder attitude and character bit him in the ass. This would also be the part where I mention that my grandfather, whom I love and adore, also had a mistress whom was my grandmother's niece. The real reason I mention this is because my dad, richeous do-gooder as aforementioned, was ruthlessly judgemental of my grandfather's affair; and then ended up having to choke on his own words.
Anyhow, my relationship with my father has always been tumultous, conflicting.
I was a free-spirited child. I was, by no means an angel. I was curious as hell, and sneaky too. I will however give myself some credit and say that I was on the good side of things. I was pretty much your average kid.
I don't mean to critize my dad in a negative light, I understand that as parents, no-one hands you a guide book on how to discipline your kid and how to raise them to be honorable, well-rounded, disciplined individuals. I know in my heart of hearts that he had the very best intentions in mind and that he loves me.
But, as we say Amor no quita conocimiento (love does not take away knowledge). My dad was not the easiest person to get along with. He has such a rough personality, a rough character. He fails to understand the power of his words and his critique, both for positive and negative. In many ways, his harsh ways are part of the mold for my own character and also the demon behind my own insecurities.
In his effort to build a strong character in me, he has also left vestiges of fear and self-doubt that I constantly struggle with. I'll admit that, to this day, I constantly seek for my parent's approval in everything I do, out of fear and respect. This has also caused me alot of pain, and sacrifice, but I just don't feel right when my parents dissaprove of something I've decided to do. I feel hindered, like there are chains over my shoulder. I feel like there is a black cloud over my head wherever I go.
My main gripe about him has always been that he fails to realize that you catch more flies with a teaspoon of honey than a barrel of vinegar.... and quite the barrel he had.
He was a cadet, it was his dream to be an army man, but for medical reasons, he had to drop out. He was always very strict, organized and methodical from a young age, according to what my grandmother has told me. These strict views collided with my need for independence and liberty and space. During my high-school years, I was usually only allowed to go 3 places: Church, school, and my grandmother's house. Other than that, I had to be with either parent everywhere I went.... all the way through Senior year in highschool.
Yeah.... about that. This triggered me to learn how to climb out the balcony, over the roof, walk the wall between my house and my neighbor's and jump over the 15ft fence in my house. Yes, I did. This was my only way to see the world, even if it was only to catch a cab to my bestie's house to sit on her porch and talk bs with a group of people. To this day, I wonder if I really got away with it, or if he turned a blind eye on me and let me THINK I got away with it. I haven't made up my mind yet.
Nowadays, my dad is in Spain. From what I know, he has officially broken away from the mistress. Then again, we hardly ever talk, so what do I know, really?
During the years we lived together, my dad hardly acknowledged birthdays. He would usually wake me up earlier and express, in a very formal tone, that he wished that I had a good day, and I had the opportunity to have many more birthdays. I don't know bout y'all, but to my 11 year old self, this was rather puzzling and quite dissapointing.
This year, however, he managed to remember my birthday, early even. It's this Thursday, and he already called my mom and spoke to her because I was alseep yesterday.
He sent a present this year, all the way from Spain. He also sent a card.
Although many people see this as customary and unimpressive.... it means the world to me.
I'm literally in tears over it.
He sent the meaning of both my first and second name, in little framed boxes.
These have a personal meaning. In my grandmother's house, where I lived for part of my childhood, there were two sets, one for my grandmother, and one for my grandfather; and I would always look at these in awe, because of how simple and charming they were. I remember mentioning to my dad that I wanted a set of my own at some point. Now, I have my own.
The real reason I'm writing this post is for anyone out there with a kid. Anyone out there with a daughter, any dads that might happen to be reading this.
Know that, as a man, and as a father figure, you mold your child's personality and your actions impact very profoundly on their lives. Know that your lack of expression of affection will not go unnoticed in them, and will leave them craving for something only you have: true, uninterested love and aprooval.
Know that you are the stick to which they measure the men they will have their lives, and in your absence, the only other way they end up judging men is through facts, hearsay and trial & error.
So, if you happen to have a daughter, tell her she is the most beautiful child on this earth and make sure she knows you love her.
As for me, I've added my little frames to my wall. I promise to post a picture later on.
Night night y'all.
-Jezz
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Bike dude
Dear Bike dude,
I don't know your name.
Let's start at the fact that we rode the same bus and the same train
for over a year and even though we never spoke, we were both fully aware of each others presence. I say this because, well, you'd race me to the door and up the stairs every time we'd get to the station. I always hated that, bike and everything, there would be times you'd beat me to the train, however I'll admit that this unspoken competition was, a couple times, the highlight of my day, and for that, I pay tribute to it on this post.
One of the last time I saw you, a couple of months back, I took a candid picture of you. kind of stalker-ish, I know, but in all honesty, not ill- intentioned. I just wanted a memory.
Nowadays, I take an earlier bus, to catch my torturous 8am class, to which I am always 15 minutes late, and I never see you. I did, recently though, decide to skip the 8am class and ended up taking a later bus. I wondered if I would see you, and I did. And although we don't talk, the competition was on and running again.
It's these little things that make life worth living. ♥.
I don't know if or when I'll see you again; and for that matter, I don't know if we'll ever talk, but it's been a good competition.
-Jezz
I don't know your name.
Let's start at the fact that we rode the same bus and the same train
for over a year and even though we never spoke, we were both fully aware of each others presence. I say this because, well, you'd race me to the door and up the stairs every time we'd get to the station. I always hated that, bike and everything, there would be times you'd beat me to the train, however I'll admit that this unspoken competition was, a couple times, the highlight of my day, and for that, I pay tribute to it on this post.
One of the last time I saw you, a couple of months back, I took a candid picture of you. kind of stalker-ish, I know, but in all honesty, not ill- intentioned. I just wanted a memory.Nowadays, I take an earlier bus, to catch my torturous 8am class, to which I am always 15 minutes late, and I never see you. I did, recently though, decide to skip the 8am class and ended up taking a later bus. I wondered if I would see you, and I did. And although we don't talk, the competition was on and running again.
It's these little things that make life worth living. ♥.
I don't know if or when I'll see you again; and for that matter, I don't know if we'll ever talk, but it's been a good competition.
-Jezz
Monday, August 17, 2009
Refletions on Gravity and Gratitude
You can’t stop yourself from loving someone you shouldn’t but you can’t force yourself to love someone you’re better off with.
I got that phrase from here, at the The Bulleted Something ( a blog which I am kind of jealous of because I feel as though I should have come up with that first).
Why is it that as humans we are constantly tempted and lured by what we want but cannot have?
Why do we overlook what we get freely?
I have to wonder.
There are countless posts about me and Babes. Things of the past. A relationship that will never end: my best friend. The one who finishes my sentences and my jokes, the one who can comfort me, and ease me, the one who can soothe and relax me. The one who feeds off of my energy, who knows how to make me smile and whom I share so many memories with. He is -as of right now- the one man I trust. After knowing him for so long, and know how he and I share an indescribable bond, I am utterly open with him; I am vulnerable and sensitive and I believe he wishes no harm.
But as much as I love him, and believe me when I say I do; I can't force my curiosity out of me. I can't get these thoughts out of my head of wondering what else is out there, who else roams this world and what they are like, I can't stop asking myself if there is anyone in this world I could learn to trust and I could share a similar bond with.
Why is this? Why are we humans genetically encoded to not be content and satisfied with the things we already have in our head and hearts? Wouldn't we all be happier if we could learn to be that way?
Makes me think of John Mayer's song "Gravity". Here are the snippets that apply to this post:
Well folks, this is my queue. Just remember to be content and grateful with the many blessings you already have. I'm learning to do the same with mine.
Why is it that as humans we are constantly tempted and lured by what we want but cannot have?
Why do we overlook what we get freely?
I have to wonder.
There are countless posts about me and Babes. Things of the past. A relationship that will never end: my best friend. The one who finishes my sentences and my jokes, the one who can comfort me, and ease me, the one who can soothe and relax me. The one who feeds off of my energy, who knows how to make me smile and whom I share so many memories with. He is -as of right now- the one man I trust. After knowing him for so long, and know how he and I share an indescribable bond, I am utterly open with him; I am vulnerable and sensitive and I believe he wishes no harm.
But as much as I love him, and believe me when I say I do; I can't force my curiosity out of me. I can't get these thoughts out of my head of wondering what else is out there, who else roams this world and what they are like, I can't stop asking myself if there is anyone in this world I could learn to trust and I could share a similar bond with.
Why is this? Why are we humans genetically encoded to not be content and satisfied with the things we already have in our head and hearts? Wouldn't we all be happier if we could learn to be that way?
Makes me think of John Mayer's song "Gravity". Here are the snippets that apply to this post:
"I'll never know what makes this man
with all the love that his heart could stand
dream of ways just to throw it all away"
"Twice as much, ain't twice as good
and can't sustain what one half could
It's wanting more that's going to send me
to my knees"
Thursday, June 11, 2009
"Gravity"- John Mayer
"Gravity"
Gravity is working against me
And gravity wants to bring me down
Oh I'll never know what makes this man
With all the love that his heart can stand
Dream of ways to throw it all away
Oh Gravity is working against me
And gravity wants to bring me down
Oh twice as much aint twice as good
And can't sustain like a one half could
It's wanting more
That's gonna send me to my knees
Oh gravity, stay the hell away from me
And gravity has taken better men than me (Now how can that be?)
Just keep me where the light is
Keep you all where the light is
Just keep us where the light is
Ohh.. where the light is!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)