Monday, November 7
very tired. just had dinner. didn't eat much before i got home. was kinda hungry so i forced serene and siti to pop by j8 to grab some munchies. but that wasn't enough so i went home and ate some more. i think i prefer volunteering to wasting my time shopping. it's more.. meaningful? sorting, folding and stacking clothes for the pakistanis. handling the little woollen tops and bottoms, thinking of the tiny bodies that will be grateful for their warmth.. that odd shawl or pair of socks.. the people on the other side of the earth who don't know enough to envy our extravagence. there were some brand-new items, with price tags still on, or in their wrappers. and as i watched my own hands move across the thick material, folding, flicking, turning; hands that never had to work for a living, hands that never had to feed a hungry child.. it seemed so inappropriate that my buffed nails should shine under the light as i tried to make things better for someone. i somehow became ashamed of my thirtydollar haircut, the contact lenses that cost quite a bit to upkeep each month. and i wanted to write it in a poem, but recently i've become afraid of turning every experience, every thought, every fleeting emotion into a mere scrap of poetry. life is poetry, but poetry isn't life. i'm going back tomorrow. this is what guides should really be about - helping others. i got a little annoyed with my mother [ever the interact club teacher] when she asked if i'm getting cip hours for this. do i care? does it even matter anymore? i don't care which university accepts me, because whichever one does, i know it'll be by the will of God.
it must've been love.
11:03 pm
xoxo
