This story begins as I was perusing my innumerable amount of National Geographics. So few things have truly caught my complete, honest, and sincere attention, and even fewer things have completely, honestly, and sincerely left me in such an incredulous awe, this sudden inspiration, a love for a woman i never knew.
What I saw was the background: cracked terrain and dying plants. Flora and Fauna alike laying in disintegration. In the foreground, she stood; her skin was dark, with nary a sight of aging. Her bones tiny and visible past her weak skin and withering muscles. In her strong hand, she carried a pot carrying water. Her dress, so contrast to all that surrounds her. Her vacant face only does so to accentuate her dress; so vibrant, so vivid
And to me, she was beautiful
All around her the terrain cracked from turmoil, plants dying like the inhabitants around them. Along with the disintegration with the flora and fauna was the degradation of the Morality and Majesty of the nation. Yet, through it all, stood this woman, unwavering and unfaltering. The weight of the water bears down on her, with all her might, she struggles to carry this small pot. She struggles so much, unknowing that she really is the strongest woman on Earth; though she sees herself as meerly carrying such a small weight, she carries her entire family. Her face is empty from the years of tiring, emotionless labour. Her face no longer shows sentiment, yet in its stead, a heightened understanding of duty, honor, loyalty. Her vacant face only does so to emphasize her dress, so bright and beautiful. Her, a beacon of light to a country so broken and bruised. Her, a definition to the terms unheard of: steadfast, resolute, and determined. Her, an example of true love, true hope, and true loyalty.
This picture i came across was in the APR 1993 edition. Sad to say, the chances that she is still alive are slim. This blog stands to honor her. To exist in a time of turmoil is true terror. But to rise above it, be a shining example, a beacon of light to those around you, is true heroism
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Ashlynn Noelle
Ashlyn Noelle
Just the sound of her name rings a perfect tune.
Smile so bright it could light up a room
I wish that things were the way they were
Because I know that I still love her
Her beauty comparable to that of the moon
Mind so bright it could silence a room
Voice: High-pitched; Her feet are clumsy
Someday, I hope that she will see me.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unknown.
Ashlyn Noelle was her name, first and middle. She was a blessing to the world, and all who knew her. Dark hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, and an attitude that could spark a revolution. Taller than her mom, yet smaller than her dad yet still wanted to fill his shoes.
I remembered the first time she looked at me. Such purity, such virtue that emanated from her bright blue eyes and created and air so thick that you could feel her innocence weight down against your skin; and as it slowly seeped in, you felt as though your body was cleansed and I knew in that instant that the wrongs I committed were suddenly right, because it didn't matter in the presence of this little girl with an objective view of life. I loved looking into her eyes and feeling the love as she silently stared back. Her eyes shone from her first day to even her first day of school, those eyes had that same air about them that would never go away. And her eyes, so pure and gentle, always spoke the truth.
I remember her first word, because it was a word so simple, in a world so complex. The love and compassion behind one word had no bounds. Unbelievable, Unthinkable, Indescribable, yet so Incredible. The passion in her voice had no half-life, no reason to be suppressed. With the same determination I remember, I heard her voice at the podium when she ran for class president. Sure, it may have just been middle school, but I knew by the way her voice carried that it would carry her far.
When she took her first steps, the whole world waited, watched, and worried, as if they were all - all six billion - ready to catch her. So divine was every step. So elegant, every stride. So graceful, was her smile as she traversed gently across the carpet. And in my heart I knew that this little girl had no intent to halt her dignified advance; no obstacle existed that we couldn't conquer. Nor was there a wall that she couldn't climb. Her tiny steps turned into a proud stroll, and that proud stroll became the prominent strides that won her first place for the hundred meter dash for her high school. And so joyous was she, jumping and screaming, yet beautiful and gracious. I remember that I could feel my heart beat every time she put her foot down in that race to take another stride.
I remember when she was so proud when she noticed that she was finally taller than her mom. I remember the day she first drove her car. I remember that the pressures of school never dragged her down. She was proud of who she was. It was evident in her stare, her speech, and her stride that was she was proud of what she became. I saw her the day that she left for college, and I saw that she, not only, could bear the weight of the whole world when it was down, but also pick it up watch it walk again; a reciprocal deed. And when it was too hurt to walk, I'm confident that she could carry and walk with it, maintaining her steady steps. I knew that she inevitably had the potential to change the world. And for that, I could have been so proud of her.
I love you Ashlyn. And I'm infinitely sorry for what I did. I know it cannot be changed, but I know if it could, I would reverse everything just to meet you. I would give up everything; all of it for you. I wish I could have been given another chance to be your dad.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unlived
Just the sound of her name rings a perfect tune.
Smile so bright it could light up a room
I wish that things were the way they were
Because I know that I still love her
Her beauty comparable to that of the moon
Mind so bright it could silence a room
Voice: High-pitched; Her feet are clumsy
Someday, I hope that she will see me.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unknown.
Ashlyn Noelle was her name, first and middle. She was a blessing to the world, and all who knew her. Dark hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, and an attitude that could spark a revolution. Taller than her mom, yet smaller than her dad yet still wanted to fill his shoes.
I remembered the first time she looked at me. Such purity, such virtue that emanated from her bright blue eyes and created and air so thick that you could feel her innocence weight down against your skin; and as it slowly seeped in, you felt as though your body was cleansed and I knew in that instant that the wrongs I committed were suddenly right, because it didn't matter in the presence of this little girl with an objective view of life. I loved looking into her eyes and feeling the love as she silently stared back. Her eyes shone from her first day to even her first day of school, those eyes had that same air about them that would never go away. And her eyes, so pure and gentle, always spoke the truth.
I remember her first word, because it was a word so simple, in a world so complex. The love and compassion behind one word had no bounds. Unbelievable, Unthinkable, Indescribable, yet so Incredible. The passion in her voice had no half-life, no reason to be suppressed. With the same determination I remember, I heard her voice at the podium when she ran for class president. Sure, it may have just been middle school, but I knew by the way her voice carried that it would carry her far.
When she took her first steps, the whole world waited, watched, and worried, as if they were all - all six billion - ready to catch her. So divine was every step. So elegant, every stride. So graceful, was her smile as she traversed gently across the carpet. And in my heart I knew that this little girl had no intent to halt her dignified advance; no obstacle existed that we couldn't conquer. Nor was there a wall that she couldn't climb. Her tiny steps turned into a proud stroll, and that proud stroll became the prominent strides that won her first place for the hundred meter dash for her high school. And so joyous was she, jumping and screaming, yet beautiful and gracious. I remember that I could feel my heart beat every time she put her foot down in that race to take another stride.
I remember when she was so proud when she noticed that she was finally taller than her mom. I remember the day she first drove her car. I remember that the pressures of school never dragged her down. She was proud of who she was. It was evident in her stare, her speech, and her stride that was she was proud of what she became. I saw her the day that she left for college, and I saw that she, not only, could bear the weight of the whole world when it was down, but also pick it up watch it walk again; a reciprocal deed. And when it was too hurt to walk, I'm confident that she could carry and walk with it, maintaining her steady steps. I knew that she inevitably had the potential to change the world. And for that, I could have been so proud of her.
I love you Ashlyn. And I'm infinitely sorry for what I did. I know it cannot be changed, but I know if it could, I would reverse everything just to meet you. I would give up everything; all of it for you. I wish I could have been given another chance to be your dad.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unlived
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Immortality
This is an inquiry of man's longing to be immortal.
It is often said that man's sole purpose is that we live to die. However, the manner in which i believe it should be viewed is that we die to live. If it weren't for death, what purpose would we have in life? There are so many different people, so many different events, that exist simultaneously in a single second that it is only sensible that each second should be taken advantage of. Death allows us to be alive. And not alive in the sense that we are functioning human beings, but that it sparks spontaneity and adventure in our lives. Death allows us to break through the tedium of our circadian routines. We can finally be free.
But with a physically immortality, there is enough life to experience all that this world has to offer. However, what if you were able to be immortalized in a way that didn't serve your own purpose, but for others. Isn't that an immortality we can strive for? There are immortals that live today just like that. Even though we know that they passed away, what did they leave behind? How were they immortalized? What can death do to us in a way that we can achieve immortality? It can fuel us, propel us, and challenge us to do better each and every day. It can give us the energy every morning to make a change in the world. It can give us the tools to do anything we want, if we so choose. Living life to its fullest is a reckless way to live; albeit enjoyable, it only does so to serve your own desires. But everyday we talk about chance, especially with the upcoming election, but really what are we doing - except for voting - that can create a change?
Now, not everyone can change the world so drastically that they deserve global praise, but we can all immortalize ourselves on a even more local scale. We can save a person's life and immortalize yourself in stories told, or even be the shining example that some people wish to see. I challenge you, the reader, to spark a revolution, excel in everything you do, break free of routine. No matter how small it your efforts may be; make a change, benefit our society, break free from the monotony, challege structure, and immortalize yourselves.
This is a tribute to the immortals that reign superior to me:
Sir Isaac Newton, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Carl Jung, Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, Rembrandt van Rijn, Johann Sebastian Bach, and any others i may have forgotten. I can't wait to join you in the ranks.
If I have seen further, it is by standing on ye shoulders of Giants
-Sir Isaac Newton
It is often said that man's sole purpose is that we live to die. However, the manner in which i believe it should be viewed is that we die to live. If it weren't for death, what purpose would we have in life? There are so many different people, so many different events, that exist simultaneously in a single second that it is only sensible that each second should be taken advantage of. Death allows us to be alive. And not alive in the sense that we are functioning human beings, but that it sparks spontaneity and adventure in our lives. Death allows us to break through the tedium of our circadian routines. We can finally be free.
But with a physically immortality, there is enough life to experience all that this world has to offer. However, what if you were able to be immortalized in a way that didn't serve your own purpose, but for others. Isn't that an immortality we can strive for? There are immortals that live today just like that. Even though we know that they passed away, what did they leave behind? How were they immortalized? What can death do to us in a way that we can achieve immortality? It can fuel us, propel us, and challenge us to do better each and every day. It can give us the energy every morning to make a change in the world. It can give us the tools to do anything we want, if we so choose. Living life to its fullest is a reckless way to live; albeit enjoyable, it only does so to serve your own desires. But everyday we talk about chance, especially with the upcoming election, but really what are we doing - except for voting - that can create a change?
Now, not everyone can change the world so drastically that they deserve global praise, but we can all immortalize ourselves on a even more local scale. We can save a person's life and immortalize yourself in stories told, or even be the shining example that some people wish to see. I challenge you, the reader, to spark a revolution, excel in everything you do, break free of routine. No matter how small it your efforts may be; make a change, benefit our society, break free from the monotony, challege structure, and immortalize yourselves.
This is a tribute to the immortals that reign superior to me:
Sir Isaac Newton, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Carl Jung, Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, Rembrandt van Rijn, Johann Sebastian Bach, and any others i may have forgotten. I can't wait to join you in the ranks.
If I have seen further, it is by standing on ye shoulders of Giants
-Sir Isaac Newton
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