Non Sollicité

Protected: I haven’t been fully honest with you.

December 10, 2013
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I Left My Heart In San Francisco.

December 10, 2013
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Tucked away in the small city of Brisbane, there lives a woman who bought a house. And with that house, she inherited a symbol she would choose to uphold, even with the remodeling of her house. Tacked on one face of her home, there is a string of red lights that from a distance, is recognizable as a heart. Hundreds of people see this heart daily, and thousands more experience it as tourists at least once, in their life. The heart is symbolic, no matter what your interpretation.

For one such frequent passerby, the heart represented hope, and he passed his own feelings on to me. His sharing differed from my own feelings though. When I would drive back to the south bay, after nights in the city, I’d be hugely depressed, often stuck in some apathetic drizzle, dreading the solitude of a disconnected valley. I would see that heart, glowing red and bright, out through the trees and high above us highway chattel. It was a beacon set there to remind me of one lesson: your heart remains, literally, wherever you choose to place it. Where my friend wanted to know that indiscriminate allies out there— God, loved him unremittingly, I was only concerned with the axiom, I can love.


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Protected: The seeds we sow.

December 8, 2013
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