Nu Thang…

Well, I started off last night writing a new entry with the full intention of putting it up today, and *poof*… ’tis gone. But, something just popped into my mind.

I get very, very upset when I feel like people prioritize relationships. I realize that’s vauge, but I’m going to try to elaborate as I go on.

We’re all guilty of it at one time or another, intentionally or not, but I’m hurt greatly when someone who I know will at one moment be willing to spend great periods of time with me, but then, without notice, it seems what was 30 minutes of conversation is brought down to a very quick “oh, that’s nice, see you”. And believe me, I’m not talking about this happenening once or twice, but consistently. We all get busy; I understand that as good as the next guy, but I’ve worked very hard at making people my first priority behind God. If you have a problem, I’m going to do everything I can to help in that time of need, regardless of what’s going on. The biggest thing my grandfather has taught me, by his words and by his actions, is when someone is talking to you, they are the most important thing in your life at that moment. I’m certainly not perfect… not by a long shot… but this certainly is my goal at all times. And you know, I don’t think it takes much. I’d personally be happy if each time someone talked to me, just asked me how my day was. Send me an email and say “how’s your family?”. Being kind isn’t the big stuff; being a child of God and showing His love isn’t always turning half a country to Christ… what it always is in both cases is shaking a hand, smiling, hugging, and being genuinely interested.

Anyway, that’s enough of that 🙂

I think every few entries I’m going to add a poem. It’s been awhile since I’ve written any poetry, and I feel like I want to go back and try again. Lately, I’ve just had this desire to write something of substance; write something that if it were good enough get published. That’s one of my life goals, you see. Write a book that’s published. Anyway, I’m putting a poem down by ee cummings, because I’d have to say he represents a lot of how I interpret myself. He understands and conforms to the overlying principles (you know he’s writing poems), yet looking at it, it doesn’t always make sense – on occasion it’s dijointed, and just leaves at points. But in the end it always makes sense to someone who’s willing to take the time to read it. His poetry looks very much slapshod and thrown together, but he actually spent a lot of time figuring things out… used multiple revisions.

Actually, that’s probably a good summary of people on the whole.

pity this busy monster

pity this busy monster,manunkind,

not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
your victim(death and life safely beyond)

plays with the bigness of his littleness
– electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange;lenses extend

unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.
———————-A world of made
is not a world of born – pity poor flesh

and trees,poor stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical

ultraomnipotence. We doctors know

a hopeless case if – listen:there’s a hell
of a good universe next door;let’s go

ps – I found that other update, so it’ll be going on too.

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