If I could keep my mind
Then I’d probably be better,
At learning and being happy
And standing on my feet.
If I could keep my mind
I wouldn’t procrastinate.
I would actually finish things
If I could keep my mind
I would already be bilingual
And well on my way
To adding a third tongue.
If I could keep my mind,
Then I wouldn’t love you,
And I wouldn’t be here
A man and a woman made two children together. The second one didn’t look like the man. The first one really did. Maybe the second one wasn’t his. It was his, the mother said. The man wasn’t so sure. He didn’t really talk to that child – the second one. They never really got to bond. The child was never able to get comfortable around the man. Somehow he didn’t think that was his fault. For some reason – nobody knows – the second child didn’t grow up to be like all the other children. She had funny eyes. One went up and down all by itself when she ate. Everyone thought that was strange. She talked funny too. Couldn’t pronounce her words properly, even as she got older. She didn’t do well in school. Her father didn’t like her grades. Why wasn’t she smart like the first child? The second child wasn’t quick. She didn’t understand things quickly, and she couldn’t explain things quickly. Her mannerisms were funny too. Is your sister handicapped? The children asked the first child. No. The first child didn’t like that question. Far away they moved, after the first child finished high school. The second one was almost done. Barely made it through the foreign high school, and the father was not happy. Second child had a bit of an attitude too. She didn’t like to listen. Almost never did her chores. Rude little girl. No college for you said the father after she was done with high school. I don’t think you are ready. I will not sign the paper. The second child remained quiet. Well maybe college was not for her. Fine. She didn’t want to go anyway. She won’t go. She won’t go to college. Far away she moved, to board at a post-secondary academy. No cell phone. Limited internet access. Not a lot of communication with the father. Father was not happy. I cannot have a constructive conversation with her he said to the first child. Why? What happened? The first child asked the father. All she says is hi. Do you answer? No. Why not? The first child didn’t understand. I’d rather not deal with her the father said. The first child wanted to cry.
Waiting for my love
From the sure death
I have sent him to.
And I pray for him
And hope for him
And wish for him
That he had loved
I kiss his soft lips
In my head
And hold him tight,
And close my eyes
Against the night.
I love you,
And I thank you
For your heart,
But you really should have kept it.
I told you from the start.
I knew this before I was twenty, but I’ve come to really embrace it recently. A while back, my older sister, who was staying with us for a while, called me selfish. Mind you this was because I didn’t want to do something that she wanted me to. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like her calling me selfish because I didn’t fulfill a request of hers. I’ve never thought of my younger sister as selfish for not doing something I told her to. She’s just mean and likes having her own way. But who doesn’t?
Really? Who doesn’t? Who doesn’t want to have his own way? It’s called will. We are all individuals with our own individual wills. Me not wanting to do something for someone doesn’t make me selfish. Or I guess it does, since that’s the point I’m trying to make. I am selfish. I am. I want to have things go my way, and I get upset when they don’t. So does everyone else I know. It’s just that our reactions to not having things go our way are different. Some people really don’t mind it much, and good for them, but some do. I do.
So what if I don’t want to do something you ask me to? I’m selfish? Yes I am. And you’re not? You don’t also think of yourself first? Not really venting about my sister here, but I have seen it in her, in myself, and in others. We all have things we like or want, and things we dislike. Choosing someone else’s preference over your own, especially if you don’t share that preference, is considered a good thing to do. I think so too. And it’s something we all have to do. It’s called compromise; keeping the peace. Whatever. What I have a problem with is people calling other people out for things when they’re on the same ship on seats that are right next to each other. Calling someone selfish because that person doesn’t want to do something for you is crap. It’s crap because that person might have a damn good reason for choosing not to fulfill your request. And it’s crap because if that person asked you to do the same favour you would probably say no as well.
I’ve been thinking about this for over a year now. I really didn’t like her calling me selfish, because she was being selfish at the same time. She was thinking about herself and trying to hand off work that she could do herself but didn’t want to. It was wrong of her, but it helped me to realise that I am selfish – that a lot of us are, and it’s not a bad thing. That’s just the way we are. We all want what we want. And sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, we have to put what we want – what we need – before what someone else wants or needs. So am I selfish? Yes I am, and it’s time that you admit you are too.
I laughed a high-pitched, cackling laugh, and I reminded myself of a witch. All because I heard him say he didn’t know how to spell mayonnaise. And that’s how come it wasn’t on the shopping list, though it was there two weeks ago and she didn’t buy it.
Then, after incessantly teasing him, I brought my brother down to my room to get him to stop crying. I sat him on my lap and patted his back. Let him cool down in front of the fan. I even played a song for him; “Sailing”. I asked him if he was crying because he wanted to go back to sleep (his mother said she didn’t know why he was always cranky when he was tired). He shook his head no. “Why are you crying then?” I asked him. He shrugged. He didn’t know. I hugged him empathically. I understood so well what he meant. “I do that sometimes too,” I said. Crying without knowing why. I wondered what a three-year-old would have to cry about, but abandoned the thought. I couldn’t believe I had this, of all things, in common with him. I hugged him, and patted his back, and I let the boy cry.
I was going, rather let me saying I was thinking about going to church today. I didn’t prepare anything, but I set an alarm to wake me up. I was going to go to a church other than my own. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long while but I still haven’t. The alarm went off this morning. I think I snoozed it first. When it went off again I turned it off and went back to sleep. I didn’t go to church today.
I’ve been feeling like going to church for a while now. It’s like a little nudge telling me to go, or to read the Bible. And I accept the nudge and think Okay I’ll do it, but then I don’t. And I know it’s God, or my church family would tell me it’s God, that is speaking to me, and I wonder at how powerful the mind can be.
I still can’t work on the Sabbath. I got my work schedule for the semester and had to ask for it to be changed because the sun is going to start setting earlier when it gets down to November, and I can’t be working when the sun goes down on a Friday. Why not? I’ve not been going to church, I’ve not been reading the Bible, though I have been talking to God somewhat, I’ve not really been praying. Why can’t I work on Sabbaths? Why can’t I go out on the Sabbath? Why can’t I do my homework on the Sabbath? I haven’t been keeping the Sabbath for such a long time now, but there are still some things that I cannot do. Though my faith (not sure if I ever really had any) has wavered, my conscience is still as strong as before. In my walk away from God, I feel like I can’t go too far ahead in case I make it so that I can never go back.
Yesterday in the bus on my way home from work I was thinking how very firm I was when I had just found my religion. I stuck to the truth I knew. I had good reasons for all the things I did. Well I have reasons for what I’m doing now. Shouldn’t I stand on those? I didn’t just get up and walk out of church for nothing, and I didn’t just leave because of one thing I didn’t like either. Things had been accumulating for a good period of time. I had wanted to leave for over a year before I actually did.
But now I’m wondering if the things that caused me to leave aren’t too small. But obviously not since I left because of them. Or am I too fickle? I mean there are things that I do still believe are true? But that’s my problem though. There are only some things that I can believe in and stand on as true. I can’t accept everything. If I can’t accept everything then I can’t live my life based on it. I can’t place my life on something that isn’t foolproof. That’s it. It’s not whole. It’s not 100% solid. That’s why I left. It didn’t all come together and make sense. And I was not content to sit with my church brethren and ignore all the things that were wrong, while trying to teach other people to do the same.
I have about fifteen minutes before I have to move from this seat so I thought I’d take the opportunity to post something, which I’ve been dying to do for the longest while.
First of all, I’m back in school. After eight months of not being in school – because I took a semester off – I’m back at it at a new college and loving it so far. Not loving it loving it because these professors give a lot of homework, but hey, that’s school. I just have to get used to it again.
Second, I’m back from Jamaica. I went home briefly for my grandfather’s funeral where I met some new cousins, hugged some old ones, and knocked a tambourine hard at the graveside. I also went to the beach, got my hair done, and saw my beautiful mother.
Third, the epiphany series is not over. I just haven’t had time to really sit and type up a blog post. Did I mention that I’m back in school, and still working part-time? Yeah, I barely get to sleep or eat anything. It’s seriously hard to blog. I’ve even had to restrain my drama watching. That’s really big. There are two episodes of Roommate out that I have yet to see. I need to watch them before more come out and pile up on me. My life… Anyway the series isn’t finished. I’m still twenty. I have the rest of this month and almost all of next month before my birthday comes so I will keep the series going until then.
Whenever I find some time, and whenever I can actually think long enough to write something, I will. Until then, I guess it’s later.