Perspective of One

16. I like to write about stuff.

[perspectiveofone-blog]

Weathered Dancers

Sprinkles of frozen water dance as they descend from the sky and land delicately in the palm of your hand, melting instantaneously and only leaving a small puddle. The wind blows – cold – as it nips at your cheeks and nose, turning them a deep shade of rose. All that surrounds you is white, aside from the dark brown oak of the trees. You peer up to the sky, blinking slowly, and gazing at the grey sheet cast over you. It stretches as far as your vision allows, and continues to deposit its graceful white dancers.

               Your toes and face grow numb as you venture further into the fierce winter weather. You let out a breath you realized you had been holding, and watch as the fog travels into the air before you. It floats away and diminishes almost as soon as it is formed. You reach towards your feet and grasp a handful of white, watching as it meets the warmth of your palm, and shifts its form. Ignoring the burning sensation evident in the small amount of feeling left in your fingers, you take another handful. The wind tousles your hair and whips it around your face, skewing your line of vision. You tuck it behind your ear, only to have another small piece sneak its way past your numb fingers.

[perspectiveofone-blog]

Consumption

a Prose Poem

There was a whirlwind in her mind and it

               consumed the entirety of herself when she sat alone

The man that she knew came again, whispering the things she’s heard over

               A thousand times

She can’t amount to what another can be and

she’s not worth the time and effort that it would take

He tells her what she really is – sad and lonely and alone

               Isn’t she?

He tells her that she can never be what she wants because

she isn’t worth it, is she?

 She scrambles to escape his heavy clutches but he is

               strong and determined

By the time that her tired eyes close then and only then will she escape his grasp but as soon as the

bright sun shines through her mahogany curtains he is back and striking

               fiercely

               relentlessly

Hurling insults as fierce and harsh as a thousand bullets

and harming her internally with no avail in sight

 -          E. H.

[perspectiveofone-blog]

The Peace Corps

So not to sound as pretentious as people oftentimes do when discussing the peace corporation, I figured it must be most logical to describe what exactly the organization was and is trying to accomplish.

The peace corps was originally constructed in December of 1951, in which president Kennedy had a strong influence. He suggested - after the ceasing of World War II - that a “group of young college graduates would find a full life in bringing technical advice and assistance to the underprivileged and backward Middle East … In that calling, these men would follow the constructive work done by the religious missionaries in these countries over the past 100 years.”

(Although Kennedy was most associated with the creation of the Peace Corps, senator Hubert H. Humphrey actually had the first initiation of the idea).

In short, the Peace Corps helps to advance countries other than the United States in terms of technical advancements, education, agriculture, and the environment. Generally, the work is associated with economic and social development. Overall, the primary goal of the Peace Corps is to allow not only the people in these struggling countries to learn about America, but also us to begin to comprehend their culture.

Of course, having no personal experience with the Peace Corps, I am lacking a huge degree of insight. However, from all the videos and research I have done, this is absolutely something that I want to pursue. My heart and soul is completely dedicated to making this experience happen for myself.

I’ve always had a passion for helping others. Oftentimes, I tend to put others needs before my own; whether it be for fear of them being hurt or myself, I have a hard time not caring about others. Therefore, the idea of living somewhere with little possessions and only the people and helping them advance either their education or their agricultural development to keep me busy, sounds absolutely amazing.

Of course, this experience absolutely has to be something that you know will benefit you, too. Without a single doubt in my mind, I know that this experience would benefit me in so many ways. It would change my outlook on the world around me, my self confidence, my attachment to material things, and an appreciation for the little things, or rather the things that we take for granted each day.

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That was just a random little spat of thoughts that spilled out of my consciousness at 11:30 pm. Hope you enjoying hearing a bit about my jumbled hopes and aspirations in life!

[perspectiveofone-blog]

I Love You More

\\\ This is just a small, random, infinitesimal and most likely insignificant drabble of sorts. That being said, please excuse the lack of finality and mishmash of it all. \\\ Your eyes - green with all of the kindness of the world. Acceptance and appreciation swirl in with the gold of love and compassion when you look into my own. With the brown of the tree branches which dance through the forest and the green leaves speckled on the ends, the golden sunshine sprays it's rays from you to me. The crinkles near your eyes are full of memories of happiness and smiles but even then there is pain and hardship masked behind a smile. Your hands - I remember never wanting to let go. Long, warm fingers hold my own and I feel at home despite our location. I clutched them to my chest, burying my nose into the palm and allowing the overwhelming feeling of safety in. Your arms wrap around me when there are tears in my eyes or blood on my knees and my pain ceases in your presence. You vow to love me unconditionally and protect me from the harm in the world and you've done so without fail. Even when I feel as if I am unlovable, you're there, showing me that I am worth it to you.

[perspectiveofone-blog]

An Innocent Unearthing

a Prose Piece

The soft, sea breeze tousles his curly blonde locks as bare feet kick up the sand as he walks. It is warm and slightly damp from the early morning showers and the fresh, young skin of his feet tickle with each passing step. A few measly greens poke out from the granulated rocks and sway with the cool, morning winds in their own personal rehearsed dance.

               Vibrant pinks, blues, and violets dance and intertwine as they span across the morning sky in swirling, twirling masterpieces. The moon floats above the colorful mass and greets the sun with a polite hello and a curt nod, for they don’t spend much time with one another.

The boy’s light green eyes glimmer at the sight of the world surrounding him and they gleam under long, light lashes. He folds up the edges of his jeans in an uneven sight before tipping a toe into the crystalline, blue tinted water. The water breaks and a shimmer of circular vibration ensues. There’s a salty smell in the air, but yet it is sweet and full of purity and rejuvenation. As he breathes it in generously, it fills his nostrils with a feeling of ease and contentedness.

His sparkling eyes travel across the soft, overlying waves and a small pointer finger finds its way into the cool water. A small dark mass floats by and a few bubbles make their way to the surface, before popping expectantly. The mass soon disappears promptly into the dark, deep abyss below.

[perspectiveofone-blog]

How to Define a Friend

I think – with the uttermost appropriateness – that it would make sense to begin with a dictionary definition of the word friend.

               Merriam-Webster describes a friend as a person who has a strong liking for and trust in another and a person who helps support someone. How ironic is it – that the friend in question is neither of these things?

               Perhaps the only reason she decided to latch onto my side was for the mere fact that I was an easy target for providing her with the high level of attention and praise she requires. My passively-insecure personality who gives every person I run into the benefit of the doubt (so much that my mother worries that I am too trusting of people and the human nature, for I could get burned so easily) must’ve appeared as the perfect opportunity for her, subconsciously, of course.

               And as soon as I began realizing that I am giving up too much of my own self to her and her high-maintenance needs and began to pull away, only slightly, she’s at my throat, squeezing my vocal chords and thus silencing me; pulling me back into her clutches. A natural born leader of the masses is what she is – strong, smart, and passionate – but like a dictatorship, she uses this power in all the wrong ways. Pulling friend after friend under her metaphorical wing and guiding them with her through clouds of sadness, anger, and hatred towards others, those friends become minions to her trade.

               Because of my retreatment from her and her toxic ways and because I start talking to another in front of her and seem to be enjoying myself without her presence, she jumps to irrational conclusions that claim that I don’t care about her whatsoever.

Now, tell me this. Would someone who doesn’t care about a friend be there when you got a speeding ticket and offer to be there whenever you decide to tell your parents? Would someone who doesn’t care about you stop whatever they’re doing (even if its grocery shopping with their mother of whom they haven’t really truly seen in days) just because your parents were mad at you and you were crying? Someone whose mother held your hair back when you vomited at homecoming? Obviously, this person doesn’t care whatsoever about you, right?

I wonder why I do, though. Why do I care so much when she has stabbed me so many times and smirked while I bled out? And if I even attempt any resolution or – God-forbid – confronting her, she twists the words around and throws them back in my face and I crash and burn with their harsh significance.