|
idiotized
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Leslie
Gender: Female
Interests: Literature; Sci-fi; Being Rediculous; Fine Art; Theatre; Art House Films; Indie anything; Music of all textures and sounds; Ethnic food; The idea of travel; Theology; Dancing; Discussion; and Politics.
Expertise: The art of Dressing Up
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/23/2004
|
|
| Ginny Owen wrote a song that to this day moves me -- and in times like these where I struggle to nurture my faith and rely fully on the Lord, it is a great comfort to me. I hope you (who happen to catch this entry) find it an inspiration as well. If you can, find the song and listen to it (I'd be more than happy to e-mail it to you!).
This road is winding, narrow and steep
And I cant keep walking with frozen feet,
My spirit is not willing;
My heart is cold as ice;
Thaw out my convictions;
The passions left my life
Chorus:
I dont wanna be a flame
I wanna be a raging fire!
Tired of my will, my way,
Your callings higher
Oh, I know its time I stopped running from the truth
So Ill stand here still, until Im filled
I wanna be moved
I wanna be moved by you
Wanna be a rebel with a holy cause,
Stand against the devil and hold up my cross,
You have a mission for me; a reason why Im here,
To radiate your glory, with sweet songs to your ears
| | |
| I'm cold, and I'm lonely... And I guess I will let my silence say all the things that can't be said with words. Sometimes... sometimes you just have to feel, no matter how hard the pain. When the sun rises, so shall I.
| | |
| I firmly believe that a country's job is not to silence its people.
I also believe that murder is not an acceptable mode to express idealogical disagreement.
Nor should religion, faith, family, or state silence a people.
And I don't agree that it's ethical to protest with the aim to silence a disagreeable voice.
We hear lies every day. We find that whether we like it or not, reality is relative regardless of what 'truth' might exist.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/3975211.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7274259.stm
| | |
| And I never thought I'd actually write here again. However, just a moment ago I was browsing through my subscriptions, reading posts from people I barely know, almost all of them are still connected or in the midst of finishing school at North Park. A meaningful observation to me: you don't realize it while you're in the middle of it... but North Park has the most ridiculous atmosphere I've ever seen, totally un-like reality. For example, if you miss class at North Park, next to nothing happens. If you miss five classes at North Park... almost the same thing. If you miss work in real life once, you get a warning. If you miss it twice, or three times... then you're considered unreliable and in some cases, you're fired. At my new school, if I miss more than two classes, I am automatically withdrawn from the course.
But that's enough about absences. What is really quite noticeable to me is the atmosphere. At North Park there is this striving toward finding ones identity through fashion or social groups. Almost everyone is part of a micro-network of people, and almost all of those little networks have striking identifying aesthetics. In fact, people even identify themselves as hipsters, freaks, etc. These are 20somethings, mind you... most about to graduate college, and almost none of them treat themselves or their lives like adults. Maybe because North Park treats its students like high schoolers? In any case, it'd be a very interesting place to research for a sociologist, I think.
PS. I'm not so scared any more, and I'm doing really well at Alverno :) Having fun too!
| | |
|
I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind
Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind
Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind
| | |
|
