I have just come from a time in which an enclosed space held many estrogen producing mammalian. While our chortles grew the ire of others, our perseverance stood strong. It was day in which one fine thing must be completed; and the race would be won and completed in this one day alone.
This amazing feat, many unable to attain, was only accomplished with the help of The Exemplar...
She is a woman whose fears stand still in the face of challenge.
She strives for sublimity, yet with disdain for those who aim for the same.
A heart of purity is granted her, with her eyes prone to question disorderly surroundings.
Her beauty donates serenity to the beholder; yet a foul word erases ever such calm.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
My Betrothed
I am set to wed the man of my dreams in less than 100 days. All my life, my admirations were found in the character of my father. My romantic aspirations would hopefully mirror the model set before me in my parents. It is in this way I had devised a list of what I perceived to be my most perfect mate. Over 2 years ago, I met a man whose credentials initially seem unmatched, yet more and more everyday, I find myself amazed at his perfect adherence to my outspoken wish list.
He is a man whose eyes have seen the world surrounding him, yet his heart does not follow suit. His ears have heard others' pain, and his hand is outstretched to them.
He strives to perfection, yet his humility propels him further.
His words are donated from The One Who Gives All, and his mind enthralled with the same True Creator.
His love for me stands strong, in the midst of chaotic emotions being hurled at him.
His care for his kin resembles not his contemporaries, but those with much more wisdom than he.
His ability to perceive situations in their true light is astonishing, yet his ability to teach is even more so.
He speaks with the voice of a man, faith like a child, and wisdom of patriarchs.
To touch his skin is ironically analogous to the feelings obtained when looking out upon sheets of pure white sand.
His pure-hearted nature is not tainted, as can be said for his understanding of the world.
His mind fondly adopts incoming transmissions with retention resembling a true vault.
He is a man whose eyes have seen the world surrounding him, yet his heart does not follow suit. His ears have heard others' pain, and his hand is outstretched to them.
He strives to perfection, yet his humility propels him further.
His words are donated from The One Who Gives All, and his mind enthralled with the same True Creator.
His love for me stands strong, in the midst of chaotic emotions being hurled at him.
His care for his kin resembles not his contemporaries, but those with much more wisdom than he.
His ability to perceive situations in their true light is astonishing, yet his ability to teach is even more so.
He speaks with the voice of a man, faith like a child, and wisdom of patriarchs.
To touch his skin is ironically analogous to the feelings obtained when looking out upon sheets of pure white sand.
His pure-hearted nature is not tainted, as can be said for his understanding of the world.
His mind fondly adopts incoming transmissions with retention resembling a true vault.
The Used One
A common thought held by many is that their friends are unique, mysterious and worthy of other's affections. If you do not feel this about your friends, there are a myriad of reasons for which this may ring true; yet will not be discussed at this time.
I would like to share with you some notes on my friends. We shall start systematically and track our progression:
The Used One - This is the name I shall designate for perhaps one of my funnier friends.
She herself possesses a sense of humor, yet her ability to accept jest from others leaves much to be desired.
Her nature is pure, yet she mistakes this for naivety.
Her ways are fruitful, yet she heeds only the advice of her failures.
Her relations with genders not her own often produce a flurry of emotions, confusing or negative.
Her memory of transgressors is scanty, yet her memory of friends' intimate details is delighting to all.
She is a woman of sound character, though not of class.
She is one to be admired, yet one whose admirations for others exhibit trappings of insecurity and self-doubt.
I would like to share with you some notes on my friends. We shall start systematically and track our progression:
The Used One - This is the name I shall designate for perhaps one of my funnier friends.
She herself possesses a sense of humor, yet her ability to accept jest from others leaves much to be desired.
Her nature is pure, yet she mistakes this for naivety.
Her ways are fruitful, yet she heeds only the advice of her failures.
Her relations with genders not her own often produce a flurry of emotions, confusing or negative.
Her memory of transgressors is scanty, yet her memory of friends' intimate details is delighting to all.
She is a woman of sound character, though not of class.
She is one to be admired, yet one whose admirations for others exhibit trappings of insecurity and self-doubt.
Officially my first blog ever!!
Well, one of my friends suggested I start blogging as a way of release, expression...whatever. I usually frown upon suggestions, for their inception is usually one of a passive aggressive nature. This friend of mine, however, fully meant her words and it is for this reason I am starting such an endeavor.
In order to join this mysteriously arrogant, yet oddly soothing blogging bandwagon; I must first describe myself to you, Oh, Anonymous Reader Who May Not Even Exist. This is obviously a long name for you, so from henceforth I shall refer to you in a myriad of other ways, yet each of them will be denoting my true feelings of blogging: That it is a very odd thought, to think of just writing for no real receptor other than the vast vacuum of cyberspace.
Now, as for my descriptors:
I am the daughter of a man who knows no transgression he cannot forgive, and whose humility is unmatched
I am the daughter of a mother whose love for her kin only knows warmth and intimacy, and whose acts are consistently marked with care and concern.
The sister of a woman who's creativity can not be tamed, yet her audience consistently captivated by her every thought and action.
In order to join this mysteriously arrogant, yet oddly soothing blogging bandwagon; I must first describe myself to you, Oh, Anonymous Reader Who May Not Even Exist. This is obviously a long name for you, so from henceforth I shall refer to you in a myriad of other ways, yet each of them will be denoting my true feelings of blogging: That it is a very odd thought, to think of just writing for no real receptor other than the vast vacuum of cyberspace.
Now, as for my descriptors:
I am the daughter of a man who knows no transgression he cannot forgive, and whose humility is unmatched
I am the daughter of a mother whose love for her kin only knows warmth and intimacy, and whose acts are consistently marked with care and concern.
The sister of a woman who's creativity can not be tamed, yet her audience consistently captivated by her every thought and action.
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