Weblog
Friday, 30 October 2009
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Currently
A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier
By Ishmael Beah
see relatedread the wiki articles?
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kevin_Carter
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sudan_genocide
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can't sleep in this heat.
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Sometimes I am sick of
The saliva, the sweat
Of skin broken from bites.
Warm sticky flesh on my flesh.
Sometimes I wish
That my soul could rise and float
Out of my body, away from this
Too-small bed.
To swim on some cool and dry air current
Where I could exist in perfect sensual cleanliness.
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Friday, 23 October 2009
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Currently
Schindler's List
see relatedVulnerability.
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I am like a baby bird,
with my mouth open for your kiss.
I am quivering with the fear
that you will dash my head upon the rocks
where sparrows will lap up my blood
with their tiny pink tongues.
How vulnerable am I
to your whims and desires,
to your sudden changes in mood.
My bones would crumble to dust,
My blood would stop pumping
if you craved that type of amusement.
So please,
do not dash my head against the rocks.
I am vulnerable for you.
I am your baby bird.
I have faith in you. I am trusting you,
to trust yourself with me.
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Wednesday, 21 October 2009
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Currently
Schindler's List
see relatedSome pictures that I found.
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I felt like sharing them with you.
Tonight, I am going to a jazz concert on my campus. I also need to do some homework. I've been slacking off.
I have decided that I am going to try to get a job at a book store. I hate the job that I have right now.
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Monday, 19 October 2009
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Currently
Schindler's List
see relatedquotes I found while reading...
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"As I have pointed out before, characters are not born like people, of woman; they are born of a situation, a sentence, a metaphor containing in a nutshell a basic human possibility that the author thinks no one else has discovered or said something essential about.
But isn't it true that an author can write only about himself?" - Milan Kundera
"The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to earth, the more real and truthful they become.
Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.
What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?" - Milan Kundera
"...We with our passionate involvement in bonding together while standing alone, in staving off death while worshipping its irresistible power, in shrugging off interference while meddling in the lives of others', in being the sole unique individual in a world of people who are all alike, we are strange indeed among all the plants and animals, who unlike us know their place, and if they think of God at all do not imagine him to be their kin, or themselves to be his heirs." - Orson Scott Card.
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