break it down

i didn't want to pick you and i don't even like to think of you. i see you and there's no real attraction, i get aggreviated by some of the things you so with calculate carelessness. yet i crave the wittiness and appreciation of our clever exchanges. i wonder what happened to all our uplifting conversations, religious dissections, and playful debates in which you liked to prove my point wrong, but more importantly liked me to argue with you. somehow you know that i am not meant for a gentle soul or a soft spoken man. i want a farm, i want to think, i want to love.

god gave us mountains to climb

"if my presence in history is not neutral, i must accept its political nature as critically as possible. i am not in the world simply to adapt to it, but rather to transform it and if it is not possible to change the world without certain dream or vision for it, i must make use of it, i must make use of every possibility there is to not only to speak about my utopia but also to engage in practices consistent with it."

experiences are in the past but haunt as we walk along making a new future. where is the balance between kickball and pondering? how do we stand up and shout our cares and desires without it getting lost over the text messages and bogged down by the daily feelings of sociality? i want a companion that says i will go there and i want to do this because i care. i want someone who will take me with them as we pursue a dream of living and contributing. can i disturb alone? will i have to?