a voice of one's own
Our mission:
Saturday, July 23, 2011
new location.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Who are you?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
choice.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Are you afraid of difference?
they didn’t know because spiders don’t think
“Hey there’s lots of us,
maybe we can take on this giant beastly thing.”
They didn’t know because all they thought about
was how I was an enemy to them,
bigger than them
different
scary.
What’s the saying?
I could squash them like bugs?
Did you know I’m scared of spiders?
How pathetic am I to panic at the site of
those creatures?
Those little tiny creatures that would never hurt me,
or so says my friend Bob the arachnologist (arachnophile if you ask me),
“They are just misunderstood”
Right Bob...
Murder next door, and I’m afraid of spiders.
The flies took her life, and I’m afraid of spiders.
Spider genocide in the streets, and I’m afraid of spiders.
The mob dispersed and as one lone spider walked towards me
my defenses rose and my heart started to race.
Suddenly in a foreign accent he asked
“where is the toilet?”
I smiled and started to laugh.
No matter what language you speak,
You know how to ask for the bathroom.
Today I saw a spider eat a fly.
Today I saw a spider clinging for life
as the storm came.
I picked it up and brought it inside.
Made it dinner, had a chat, learned its story
Brought it back to life.
He told me, no one listens to us spiders,
we have no voice.
I told him, he had a beautiful voice,
it’s people who are too afraid to listen.
Guess they didn't think I was an enemy.
Guess all they wanted was a friend.
-Starfish
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So while I was leaving Pisa packing up my things at my hostel, I realized that I lost my tickets that I ordered months before to go to Nice. Luckily, the train was running late so I had time to buy another ticket. However, once I got on the train I realized that it was not at all great that the train was delayed because I had a connecting train to catch, and there was only a 10-15 minute layover. Once we got to the connecting station, Ventimiglia, I saw that I had missed my train. It was the last train to Nice for the night, so I had to stay the night. But the interesting thing was that the second I got off the train there were swarms of people, cops, and news crews. It was crazy. There were over 200 people staying in the station with me waiting to get on the next train to France. I had no idea what was going on. To be honest I was a little scared for my life, my passport, and my identity. I mean the police were everywhere, and they were packing some serious firepower. And all the people around me were speaking a language I could not recognize.
About an hour into being stuck there, I learned from another student who was traveling that all the people were refugees from Tunisia. After hearing that I freaked. I didn’t want to be stuck with a bunch of refugees. What if they want to hurt me, take my passport, kidnap me for ransom? There were so many thoughts going into my head. Then suddenly someone walked up to me and asked if I had a cigarette. I said no. I sat there after that and thought to myself, well that went fine. Then I looked around and thought no one is trying to kill me or anything like that. I felt foolish. The looks on their faces said it all. All they wanted to do was get somewhere safe. They ran away from home and were as much a foreigner as I was. They were just as scared as I was. Scared they may not get into France, scared they may have to go back to the country they left to find a better life, and scared that they may never see their families again (there were only men). It was such an experience for me. I often regret not going up to one of them and asking them what they were doing. I don’t know if any of them spoke English, but I should have tried. I should have learned their story. Because after reflecting I now see that they are more than just refugees, they are people, with husbands, wife, mothers, father, jobs, and lives that go far beyond the refugee part. But even without talking to them it was an amazing experience that I will never forget.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
crying.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Trying to live a dog's life
So my girlfriend has this thing about calling me a puppy or dog and joking that she feeds me treats. I always thought of it like wtf…why do you keep calling me that…but after listening to the radio I kind admire the nickname. I was listening to WPOC Baltimore’s Country Music Station (obviously) and the person who was hosting the show said something that caught my ear. She said that if people greeted each other every day just like dogs greet people, everyone would just get along much better and be so much more loving toward each other. I thought that was simply amazing. I mean when I go over to my sister’s house and see her little Boston terrier he runs wild. And yeah it may be some natural uncontrollable instinct for a dog to go wild when someone walks in the door, but doesn’t that just sound amazing. Like I had this uncontrollable instinct to run over to my mom when she came home. I had this uncontrollable instinct to tackle my friend to the ground out of love. I had this uncontrollable instinct to squeeze my partner when I got home from work because I miss him or her so much. I had this uncontrollable urge to show my love to a complete stranger yesterday because I just simply wanted to. I had this uncontrollable urge to greet the person working at Starbucks like they had been my friend for my entire life, even though I never met them in my before.
What a world that would be. If everyone greeted each other like their dogs greeted them. More ecstatic to see a human face and be touched by human hands than all the dog food in the world.
That’s something special.
That’s something to think about.
That’s something simply amazing.