ReFresh @justsargs-blog - Tumblr Blog

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate...

Oh, Beloved Fear!

Fear, you walk beside me everyday.

Stop me from stepping on toes,

Walking past lines,

Being seen out of the crowd.

You keep me warm, tucked in tight.

Essence my every breath.

Watch my every step.

Cloud my every thought want.

Oh, beloved Fear – may I so ask,

Where do you come from?

My Gurus called us warriors,

Their tongues never articulating Fear.

Letting their sons, at 14 going out in battle.

Giving daughters, the strength to raise villages on their own.

So, Fear, I ask again, where do you come from?

And how long do you plan to stay?

Because, Fear, you have closed many doors.

Using the powers of my femininity against me.

Something so beautiful is now oppressive.

As a woman, they tell me my first husband is forever you, Fear.

Fear, will I forever do as I should, and never what I want?

Fear, I fear you will be the only one by my side.

Obituary reading:

SPOUSE: FEAR

REASON: DIED OF FEAR OF DEATH.

And nothing else.

Fear, there is a fearsome thought in my heart.

That so long as you exist,

There lies no place for a woman,

To LIVE. To LOVE. To SHOULD.

#hashtagFirstWorldProblems

my Imagination runs stale,

its palette dry,

muscles tight – lacking flexibility.

left out not in the sun,

but the heat of corporate steel.

I try drawing flowers,

out come recursive loops, precise & identical

the elegance of imperfections lost in a sea of uniformity.

I’m living the Capitol life:

yet, Imagination not in sight.

District 12, Imagination fed off stale bread

produces artists, revolutions, intellect.

art, I can buy. artists, even, I can buy.

yet, Revolutions and Imagination

not to be found even in the pricey solace of my yoga mat.

too quick to judge,

too quick to disagree,

too quick to jump,

boolean logic, clouding all.

I checked.

detectors rang no alarms of 3D hearts

or manufactured brains.

my Imagination runs stale,

doctors, say:

it is the case of Fried Brains.

the Games of God

the clock clicks one, the lights blink red.

GO.

eruptous young laughter, a roar of naivity, the grins of childhood harry, hermione, and good friend ron.

STOP.

the dark horizon slips into the silence of asphalt streets wrinkled minds, distraught hearts, stumbled faith the fabric of life woven by thin kite strings, easily cut: the games of God.

GO.

the green pasture, distant but now in sight kind words, determined minds -- goals crystallize thin kite strings bring forth intertwined fingers that bleed and heal, only to bleed and heal again. divergent paths guised as one, the Divine, why must you test us so.

STOP.

crystals found upon weak foundations only shatter to bring life to stronger pillars. life is fleeting, bitter memories prevail to bring better sangat, the song of life is constantly evolving, keep the shabad of my Guru near and dear, one, two, three, four or more paths you'll stumble upon the right one eventually, says my Divine. the games of God.

GO.

where we gonna go from here?

#senioryear reflections

gentlechamomile

When you ask yourself, “What difference can I make? Why should I be kind when others are cruel? How can my choices change the world?” you disempower yourself. From the multi-sensory perspective, these questions become “How can my choices NOT change the world?” You disempower yourself by waiting for a “critical mass” to transform the world. You will not change while you wait—the frightened parts of your personality will remain unchallenged—and the fear in the collective consciousness will remain unchallenged also. Your choices, one by one, to create authentic power instead of pursue external power affect the health of the whole just as the health of one part of a body affects all of its parts.

Gary Zukav (via mindofataurus)

palmtreespring

forgiveness.

it’ll feel like you are letting go of too much. being attached to the bitter sweet feeling of ego that satisfies you, without letting you realize how delusional it is. you keep it close because it makes you feel powerful.. but once you find the strength to let go of that grudge and embrace forgiveness, you are left with a ego that’s been hurt, and destroyed.. and all you’ll feel is flowers blossoming around your heart.

Endings

In one lifetime, we run into a lot of them. Whether it be the ending of a favorite show (Gilmore Girls :/), favorite phase (Elementary and High School), or the ending of a certain way of thought, respect, or trust. These endings are more or less inevitable. For some, you know they're coming, sooner or later, from the get go. Others come by such a surprise, that all your left with is guilt for not having the foresight and "stopping" it. And there within, lies another heartbreaking assumption. Endings can't be stopped. They can be postponed, but never all together stopped.

larmoyante

in the end i want my heart to be covered in stretch marks

Andrea Gibson (via larmoyante)

Why my 21st will probably not be like your's

Don’t be quick to dismiss it as a religious regulation. I've disobeyed enough tenets through my 21 years, unfortunately so, to want to become a zealous follower now when it comes to this one case. Granted, I have been fortunate enough to not grow up around family-thrown cocktail parties or drunk uncles displaying inappropriate behavior, I have seen the likes of my comparable friends shun sobriety to down one shot too many when it came to college. So if it’s not a religious influence or a societal influence—what’s barring me from throwing a downright stereotypical 21st much to the likes of many of my older friends? Between the exponential rise of drama and filth of drunkards' regurgitations on bathroom floors—I can see how I’m missing out on a lot of fun.

Since pretty much day one of college, I have been surrounded by alcohol. To my shock and misfortune, I have seen friends I once looked up to in high school instantly embrace this culture with such a frenzy—as if consciously trying to highlight their low sense of self. Heck, my choice of career is notoriously known to encourage “brogrammers” and boasts of having mathematically found that the optimal work output is reached after 2 beers. Yet, between being the awkward sole sober at parties and at work—I’ve never once felt the need to consider giving in. I attribute this to ironically my friends who do drink. (Notice, how I mention friends in present tense, as my difference in values doesn't restrict me from still having diverse friends (also been a personal journey))

I’ve heard my fair share of reasons of why they drink, choose to drink, I should drink.

“The current industry culture requires you to by prerequisite to engage in the happy hour culture actively to move up”. In no offending manner: bullshit. My father has not only worked his way far up in the “brogrammer” industry wearing a turban in a racist-hateful-post 9/11 America, he has done so without ever compromising his values. And many other current industry professionals from CEOs, MDs, JDs have done so (even those of my generation). I know it’s quite surprising.

“Let go! Take a drink! Don’t be so uptight.” I’m not sure when our narcissistic, self-entitled YOLO Y2 generation got it in themselves that to have fun and be open, they need to act in a self-deprecating manner induced through an intoxicating chemical and psychoactive drug. I can’t say I am as confident as I like, but I also have no interest in gaining faux confidence for one night just so I can be a fool vicarious, free person to attract the attention of shallow followers. I’ve had the fortune of making the greatest memories among the company of completely sober friends with whom I did not have to present, act, for a lack of better term slutty-ly dress, or demean myself in front of, with the added bonus of not waking up with a “fun” hangover the next morning or putting my liver through hell. I have seen those “late bloomers”, who have resisted to the peer-pressure of drinking, only to give in to gain an “in” or popularity. It’s pathetic, but moreover just awfully sad that we as a generation are not encouraging confidence through positive methods but rather petrifying measures.

We’ve been brought up seeing Super Bowl ads of pretty bikini-clad girls holding a Corona and gaining the collective attention of a beach full of hot men. These girls are objects. They are selling themselves out to be objects. And the advertisements are only selling you an express way to be objects. But, I don’t choose to be an object. I don’t want to be. I do not wish to measure my self-worth through the deploring judgment of others.

Now, I speak specific to my age and generation who has lost sight of thinking beyond themselves. I enjoy the great company of few best friends who I greatly respect for their acceptance of my choice of sobriety and moreover consciously understanding their limits to never go past a couple drinks past buzzed, and moreover never once placing “peer-pressure”.

Now for some authentic 21st birthday fun!

#rant 21 alcohol

palmtreespring

kabeer dobehigo rae baapurae bahu logan kee kaan || Kabeer, you shall drown, you wretched being, from worrying about what other people think

Parched

The bright blue of the waves is distant, non-existent. The murky green is what presumes.

The sun and moon have made their ways around, and around for many clocks. But the boat seems to remain in the same no-mans land.

Waves crash violently. There is a brief calm, and the moon shines brightly - I falsely take it as a sign of optimism.

After even the moon fails me, all I can think of is the ache in my throat, the ache in my body for water. It's a necessity after all. I gulf down the murky green. I don't remember it being so horrible before. But It's revolting. But I'm parched. I need it to survive. So I take another swing. It dries me out further, leaving me more parched.

But it's a necessity. I need it, but its just salt to the wounds. What do you do, when it's your best friend and worst enemy?

My love, you deserve more. My love, you deserve the world. My love, you have done your part. You have shown him with all your heart and now the decision is up to him. To spend everyday hearafter acknowledging your worth and working to keep you by his side or to not...which is nothing less than his loss. My love, remember all the Kaurs that have come before you. Take a step back. Recognize your own worth. And realize the day WILL come when a He will love you as much as you deserve.

Because we all need a reminder sometimes.

larmoyante

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.

Iain S. Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via larmoyante)

psych-facts

There will always be a reason why you meet people. Either you need them to change your life or you’re the one that will change theirs.

Angel Flonis Harefa (via psych-facts)

larmoyante

I hated being depressed, but it was also in depression that I learned my own acreage, the full extent of my soul.

Andrew Solomon, The Noonday Demon (via seulray)

2wentysixletters

lovequotesrus

EVERYTHING LOVE

coloringmymind

Summer Nights

warm summer nights were imbued with laughter and quiet conversations exploring narratives of saints, scriptures, flawed hero(in)es not knowing what was myth or what was fact but our words, our thoughts, our lyrics– they were kinetic they swirled all around us burrowed between our fingers and toes nudged gently at our minds transformed souls so that every night in the splintered light we were born over and over again.

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