As a “teacher” (or a person in general): ask questions that makes “students” more aware of what they think, do & say and how they respond to others thoughts, actions & words by encouraging them to communicate/comprehend their own schema with one another (rather than present to them any one schema as “right” or “wrong” and/or “good” or “bad”).

[A general question sent to the student population at my university. I answered conceptually of course]

From my experience, hope is discovered and grown; not inherent, in life.

It is something that one imagines, even if ambiguous or indefinite, and something that one believes, even if doubtfully, as a possible reality. It generally looks to the future, sometimes recursively as well, for an explanation of something in the past.

This hope grows stronger through language, an accurate articulation of its truth, and action, extended from oneself to move toward that imagined and believed reality.

I believe the most balanced and sensible hope is discovered in and grown from relationships.

I musn’t have the expectation to control or over-power the environment, circumstances or people around me. I must require control of and power over myself; physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, etc. There may be more and more accurate structuring of these, but to know and understand their function, potential, limitation, and the like, will expand my ability to fulfill and enjoy this requirement.

Learning a foreign language without a foreign land: personal issue.

There is something about breaking bread with bare hands that I find to be intensely romantic & epic.

There are unfinished things
That must go beyond this world
Like relationships without closure, without resolution
Like a dead branch
Severed by a crack
Hanging limp from the tree of life
Not falling, not leaving
Because its source of life still exists in the world
But there is no longer a connection
And there was no healing, no understanding, no humility
Until it was too late
Occasionally now,
The creaking of its dead fibers
Reach my ears and draw my eyes to the memories of its fullness and strength
But its weight still hangs
Heavy and limp with sadness
Reminding me then,
There are unfinished things

في الأماكن الغريبة، نبحث عن الأشياء التي في أوطاننا لم نجدها

ولكن، إذا نكف عن التفكير في الأشياء في الأماكن الغريبة

سنرى، الأشياء التي كانت ضائعة، إن شاء الله، في أوطاننا

وبعد ذلك، سنقرر أن نرجع، إن شاء الله، إلى أوطاننا

فلا نترك، الأماكن و الأشخاص الذين يعرفوننا دائما دائما

Anger rushes through my body
The Fire bursts out from within
Shooting from my bloodshot eyes
Violently escaping from my screaming mouth
I want to burn the whole of Africa
And boil the seas between us
That the water might touch you
And sting you with its heat
That you might remember:
I am here!
On this Earth.
Do not forsake me!

But the only thing that escapes my mouth
Is the acid in my stomach
As the home-cooked Chinese food
And the two cups of sugar and milk with coffee
Attempt to reckon with my empty bowels.
And my eyes stare at the computer screen
Hours into the night;
Waiting at the wrong time,
Wanting in the wrong place.

Neither of us are perfect,
Nor adequate to give.

I feel as if I’m waiting for life to start.

And as I read your words
I feel the expansion in my chest
As my heart attempts to jump out,
To land in your hands
Where it has found peace.

…sigh…

I can’t promise that I’ll always be with you,
Though I will never plan to do so myself.
I can’t promise you anything forever,
Though I’ll not let this day end until we’ve found peace.
I can’t promise you my heart, eternally in your hands,
Though there are no other hands in which it will be.
I can’t promise that I will always remember dates and times,
Though I’ll never forget to be sensitive to our relationship.

You have my heart.
It was given to you.
Resting in both of your hands
is where it has found peace.
You are my Elven Queen.

There will be no other place;
no other place in the world that I could go,
and find the pleasure of our love
without you.
You are my Beloved.

Your hands have been chosen for me
and mine for you;
through tensions and sensitivity
we will always grow.
You are my closest friend.

Please remember me, love.
It’s not as if I have left you
to live somewhere else.
I am here,
apart from you
but I am not “living it up”.

My heart is always longing for you.
I look for you in other people
but they shy away
because my words are too personal.
I look for you in other people
but they say stupid things
because they don’t know me.

Only you;
you,
as a person
(not as a place or an idea or a concept
or anything else),
are the only one that will ever be my home.
That is what I promise you.

Sleep in peace, my dear
Your Ranger,
Kenneth

I’m sitting on my bed
Jon Foreman echoing in my head
Music releases my emotions
And feelings of longing raise me from the dead

My chest splits down the middle, a door is opened
From the whole on its left, the heart there is broken
Its light is dim because it’s far from him
Who loves it as much as his own

That “him” is I
And I think I know that guy–
Who can let ambition run his entire mission
And use others to fuel his desire.
But let the flames grow higher
On all that I aspire
If it lets the heart of my love grow dim.

I will hate it and crush it and have no more of it
And remember our hearts instead
And learn of her feelings and all of their dealings
And seek what she’s thought and all that it’s brought
And keep her heart strong, in my chest, where it belongs.

Oh God, let ambitions be dead.
Oh God, give us pure wisdom instead.