Seeing our scripts revealed

thiS is the torch that lights my reason, my terrible injustice.
thIs is the door to false potential, my genuine desire.
tHis is the song in all its glory, my hesitant nirvana.
This is the bane of my existence, my intricate messiah.

Wholly unreal and timorous

Sean was mugged on Sat. 2/16. He sustained a head injury resulting in 70% hearing loss in his right ear and vertigo. He was released from the hospital yesterday and is on bed rest with his host family. We are having a difficult time communicating with the drs in Nairobi. If you have any contacts in Nairobi, please contact us mkolk@mindspring.com or 770-595-2337.
thanks, margaret kolk

Part of me can't help but recognize the irony in the fact that his mother posted this comment after he wrote about his feeling awkward of people's concerns for him.

My immediately first gut reaction was something I'm not proud of, and something completely unbecoming of an AIESECer. I've gotten over that, though, because I know that he's going to take this in stride and not hold it against the Nairobi LC or the whole of Kenya. If anything, he's received his first battle scar, and all I can do is hope that it's just cosmetic.

Keep living the dream, buddy. You're never far from our thoughts.

Please pray for Mojo

So I realized that I haven't made a new post in over a week now, so in the next 20 minutes for before I have to run out the door and haul tail to class, I'm going to pound one out.

I've learned not to try to think about the future too much. In all fairness, it's unavoidable to an extent, but there's a fine line between sage planning and overwrought fretting.

It always begins with my professional prospects and my outlook thereof. I've narrowed my career of choice down to a neighborhood but am still clueless as to which house I should move into. And this neighborhood is pretty frickin' huge. With an INTA degree, I could go into a vast variety of fields. I could go to business school next and do international consulting. I could go into law school and work for NGOs and transnational organizations. I could continue my studies into INTA/IR graduate school and go into academia. I could attempt to enter the foreign service and go globetrotting with the state department. And the list goes on and on. And where does AIESEC fit into all of this? Sometimes I see myself being the prodigal alumnus, continually giving back by way of Mike Flood and Peter Stewart. And then other times, I can't wait to get out and let the new generation find their path. And the problem, I think, lies in my inability to reconcile the two into a suitable compromise.

And then this bleeds into the growing panic of "how will I stay sane and happy?"

I've been stricken with a serious case of the "grass is greener". When I lived at home in a small town, I dreamed of the fast paced life in the big city. And now that I'm here, I'm becoming sentimental for the comfortable ease of the small town. Not to mention, these have all be in the South East US. What about New England? What about the west coast? Hell, what about other countries? I've spent ample time in Canada, western Europe, China, and had a taste of Morocco. They all have their quirks and their special qualities. Different cultures, different ways of life, different perceptions of day to day goings-on. And this isn't even factoring in specific neighborhoods and regions. And what's the most unsettling is that I'm probably going to have little to no control over where I'm placed.

And then this bleeds into the growing panic of "what about my romantic life?"

It's disturbing how rational I've become. I haven't had a real crush in well over a year. Why? Because every time one rears its head, I analyze it until I can find something unrealistic about it. I always find something that tells me "this will never work, don't even try." Sometimes, I look back on those and think "yeah, that was a good call." And then sometimes, I think "jeez, am I sabotaging myself?" And the fact that I can say that about even one of them throws them all into doubt. I can't say for certain whether I've actually met anyone in the past couple of years that I've legitimately liked anyone. Have I, against all odds and logic, turned myself into a bitter asexual?

And then this bleeds into the growing panic of my mortality.

My parents had me at 24. That's two years older than I am right now. To me, my parents look old, even though they're only in their 40s. When I think about children, I feel it both ways. I know that to have any in the near future would be wholly unfeasible and unreasonable, but I know that to have them much later would result in a very strained parenthood. It's the perennial dilemma for our generation. Do you put your career first, or your potential children? If I were to do the jetsetting international thing, there would be no room for children in that. The lack of stability would create maladjusted teenagers. And then when I'm older, how can I expect to play soccer with my child when I'm hobbling around at age 50+? And then there's the issue of grandchildren. I want to be around to see them. But if I don't see myself living past 70, would it even be possible? And speaking of mortality, I know I have an expiration date. I don't know when that is, but I know that it lurks in the haze of inevitability. How am I going to maximize my time here on this Earth so I don't look back and say, "What a waste."

And then this makes me think about what I'm going to do with my life as far as my career and general work, which only further throws me into this vicious cycle.

GAH! Please see title and comply.

And so much more

At first, I was just playing around with iambic tetrameter, seeking some sort of creative release in the face of purely analytical classes. And then, it mutated into this.

Untitled

It seems the truth has been unbound.

By circumstance and hapless fool,
reason failed me, logic cruel.
In wand'ring here I found you frayed,
sleeping still by verdant glade.
Emerging chaste 'neath starry skies,
you beguiled with sanguine eyes.
At first companion, wreathed in doubt,
rival second, spite without.
And day by day the seasons passed,
revolutions, far and vast.
Ephem'ral warmth, egress and storm,
haloed 'round your tender form.
Cajoled and eased, I had to yield,
true intentions ne'er revealed.
Defenseless walls that stood no chance,
granted entrance in a trance.
So trust was built with timid stones,
caref'lly laid in dim unknowns.
Bereft foundations lacking brawn,
Always weak, but never gone.

The truth it seems should be revealed.

Emotions ripple, pitch, and swoon,
placid wave to wild monsoon.
In unexpected brazen ways,
boldness set my core ablaze.
With hallowed, blithe, acoustic soul,
broken hopes were mended whole.
And brilliant beams cascaded forth,
east and west and south and north.
Resplendent light that nursed the heart,
conquered by hermetic art.
Though firmly sealed with simple smile,
instinct spoke of futile trial.
Adventures came with whirlwind speed,
quicker than my mind could read.
My intuition counseled care,
warned of woe and nigh despair.
Our heartbeats' timbre purred rapport,
notes confused with something more.
Dilemmas raised, desires shed,
frank confessions left unsaid.

But now, the truth, it struggles, lost.

For hours on end you rest, enthralled,
lambent eyes and dreams recalled.
They flow intensely out like thread,
'round and 'round your dapper head.
Unblemished, pure, and silken shades,
weaving arabesques and braids.
Remember all the dauntless heights,
sparkling glass, and sleepless nights?
Retrieve the softness, sights sublime,
hear the rhythm wrought by time.
Obscure the waste and stem the flow,
find our faces all aglow.
And see our gentle brotherhood,
draped in tales misunderstood.
But challenged thus by chorused thought,
could you suffer what you've sought?
Replete with awe and stark remorse,
could you feel this fervid force?
And so you lie there like a ghost,
blind to that which haunts me most.

And still the truth remains intact.

I'd dodge the spotlights, shirk the chase,
just to bask in your embrace.
But maybe this was meant to be,
Rendered by divine decree.
And who am I to challenge fate,
journey's end, and luck's estate?
To yield, concede, to fold one's hand,
forfeit all that you had planned.
But hist'ries lesson chants a spell,
bidding bittersweet "Farewell."
I wander down our mem'ry lanes,
looking back on what remains.
Retrieving thus my things ignored,
bearing love's lamenting chord.
I smooth out trifles intertwined,
leaving all the rest behind.
And future's vantage sings a muse,
beck'ning with her winsome views.
Forever weary, nevermore,
back to simpler days before.