Predestination

I used to say free will was undebatable. We all had it. I’m the master of my fate. Who would even think to question it? Then it dawned on me, wait a minute if that is so then riddle me this? Why do I have no say over my biology. It was predetermined. Why did I not chose my parents? The sperm egg in which I came, I had no say. What about my mental process. Ha, if I think I simply chose before my conception to be then that would make me a god. I’m no god. Every choice I made was a product of predetermined circumstances. My past like where I grew up who I lived around were preselected. If there’s free will it’s limited.

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Judgement

Fingers pointing
Accusations coming
Everything I did is
Under scrunity
Whatever I said
Somehow was never
a joke or it had some
Sort of double meaning
Because of course
There is an ulterior
Motive. There is no
Such thing as truth
Or expression outside
Myself. It’s sad that
Everything I say has to
Be explained. As if I
Owe everyone an
Explanation for my
actions or words.
I didn’t come to fight
Or destroy but thanks
To distortion of some
I have become a villian
There’s no changing
Their mind nor will I try
Because I’m done
defending myself
In the end God is my
Judge.

 

Restless

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Squinting between the sun and horizon, a tumble weed scurries past my blistered feet. My throat aches from dehydration as I swallow the salty taste of the blood from my busted lip. Ever since I stepped foot in this godforsaken, wasteland, I’ve lost track of the days, alone so long that my tears have dried against my blackened skin. It’s a miracle I haven’t gone blind from wandering through the midday sun like a car with a broken GPS, past the dunes of sand and sparse wild flowers that give color to the homogenous setting. Although most of my hope is all but gone, there’s still a part of me that believes there’s an oasis ahead. Perhaps, my days as a restless nomad are almost over, and I’ll find a place to rest. A place I can call home.

 

Confessions of an Introvert

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This may sound like a rant and maybe it is. I want to talk about being an introvert. What’s it’s like to prefer your own company or the select company of few. Most human interactions are physically draining. It takes a lot of energy to interact with people at a party or engage coworkers, and classmates with small talk. Sadly, I’m sure some view me as rude because I rush through those basic interactions.

 

Even social media is draining. I have most of the common mediums, Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, WordPress and so on. But I rarely interact with anyone on there. Not because I’m not appreciative of a positive comment. Trust me, kind words always bring a warm smile to my face. To show my gratitude I thumbs up a nice comment rather than reply. Saying thank you becomes mundane. When I encounter naysayers, I’m not running because I don’t reply, I just rarely engage them because it takes so much out of me. The same goes for the simple, direct messages and inboxes from old classmates and strangers that say hi. After a while, they stop getting an answer from me because of how draining it is to keep the conversation going especially when all they want to discuss are social things. It’s easy to run out of things to talk about. Sometimes I watch people tweet and post status updates all day about their social lives and interact with everyone online. I wonder to myself like I do with people who flop around grabbing energy from a room of people. How can this person enjoy such a thing? When it’s complete torture for me and I need time to recharge.

Overthinking what to say instead of letting what comes natural flow from my lips or onto the keyboard is another huge problem I face. I’m always filtering my words and expression.

Everyone is different the extrovert, ambivert and introvert. None of the three are better than the other. I used to wish I was more charming like my extrovert counterparts. That I loved the company of many and it energized me rather than drained me. More balanced like an ambivert. But I wasn’t wired that way. I was designed to enjoy tranquility, alone time to let my creativity grow, and have intellectual conversations with few. I’ve learned to embrace my quiet nature