Eyes to see events and patterns. The colors as they come alive. Every flicker of light - twitch of a dog’s whisker; burned in. They’re sensitive - the windows unto which he feel life around. Ears to hear the sounds around be it danger or his given name. And lips made to pucker; lips made to kiss; lips made for a straw. A tongue to taste the intricacies of cooking. A tongue to feel - the burn of a hot beverage or the icy, sharp pain of cold. Sometimes a wicked, lashing tongue to stand up in talk. Hands not soft, but not rough - to do work and create. to grasp a camera; lift a chair; sweep her off her feet. fingers to hold the pen and fingers to type prose. Fingers to firmly grasp a knife and fingers to tie knots and straps (or untie them) - “in bed”. Hands to protect, not fight. Hands to heal. A mind to think and grow - to learn and UNDERSTAND. A mind to mold and also a mind to prevent from moulding. fearless heart to nourish love. The same heart to be given. The heart that beats and sustains life; have it torn out - broken. A heart to heal. All in sync. One place In me.
It’s unfortunate that blogs only advocate happiness, positivity, and “being yourself”. Although I applaud the attempt at enlightening the population and inspiring people to reach for something right outside their grasp, those posts are missing something. What ever happened to balance in life? The yin and yang, light versus dark, black versus white? There’s a reason things are presented in a binary way and as polar opposites. No one is advocating the area in between the two, as most things are a spectrum, but we can’t let ourselves and our generation become tunnel-visioned into thinking that one lifestyle rules them all. You know what happens when we are all alike and we all live the same way, think the same way, and eat the same things? We die. That’s right. Mother nature looks down and goes, HAH look at the humans. They’re carbon copies of each other, so let’s test their hardiness and send them an asteroid. Something like that.
Contrary to what I posted on Medium, this was written with someone in mind. It was a little white lie that I’m sure no one will believe. However, everything else in that intro was true and on point. I love to write because it is therapeutic, but I also have a nasty habit of keeping some things in at the expense of my sanity, emotional wellbeing, and physical health. Sometimes life gives you a lot of things to deal with all at once and writing helps me ease the pain and find clarity in a way that I can’t find anywhere else. It’s not that having a heart to heart with friends doesn’t help, but friends are only there a part of the time. Best friends will stick around a little longer than your acquaintances, but when push comes to shove, how many people will truly be there? WHO will always have your back? Who knows your every thought better than…yourself?
And so I sat down one day with a nothing more than a cup of tea, my trusty pen, and my notebook. I let it all out. Rather than generalize and then get specific, I decided to start specific and apply it generally. People who know me well, and by well I mean we talk on a weekly basis, will undoubtedly know who I had in mind. Those who don’t will be lost, but don’t you fret, because this piece is for you as well. There are common strains in humanity and if ever you’ve felt that you’ve loved someone for a slew of reasons, then you know these feelings and thoughts.
It’s about love, it’s about seeing someone for who you believe them to be, whether that is a correct assumption or not – whether they prove that to you or not, and it’s about loving unrequitedly so that you may be forced to love unconditionally. It is not naiveté, but rather, faith, trust, and a belief in yourself that fuels the fire of love and keeps it burning bright even when you want to put it out and go to sleep.
So without further ado, I present to you:
10 Things I Love About You (and you should too)
by Vincent Tang.
We should all dream and we should, at some point, all dream about love. We’re not setting high expectations or even idealizing relationships. We’re just using our imaginations because sometimes, the imagination is all we have. We’re all just dreaming of love. This brings me back to what Victor E. Frankl says about finding meaning in life. When the odds are against us and we come face to face with immense suffering or unbearable grief, we dream. We dream of better days ahead and hold onto hope. Hope is the intangible force that keeps us hanging on and moving forward, with faith driving our feelings and actions. I think most people have a vision of what love looks and feels like, even if it is based on unrealistic fantasies. Fantasies, hopes, dreams, and visions of love are simple manifestations of subconscious erotic and neurotic desires. It shouldn’t be surprising then, that media turns our desires into a dramatic visual on screen. In effect, as a society, we’re taught to believe that love should feel a certain way and that certain actions are romantic while others are not only unromatic, but hindrances to love and budding relationships. I have my own dream and vision of an “ideal” love, but read it with this in mind: an ideal love is not necessarily a happy one, nor is it always the right one. It is the fictional one that we can escape to in times of need, when our lives become inundated with stress, responsibilities, expectations, fights, and synergistic effects of everyday troubles.
Sundays are usually pretty fun days. I got an early morning start this past Sunday and did my laundry super early in the morning. I went home, had a refreshing bottle of Stumptown cold brew and waited around until my sister got up for the Renegade Craft Fair. I love craft fairs, even though I don’t consider myself very crafty. It’s nice to see a gathering of artists and creative who have taken their passions to a new level. I always manage to fall in love with items that I see and I do my best to budget for these kinds of things. I did pick up two items I couldn’t resist though. That gallery above is an ode to my Sunday: Stumptown, Outlaw Soaps – hair of the dog – smells like whiskey and coffee, pencils from the fair, and sights of the fair with Yetis and friends.
I stumble on a couple of videos on Vimeo yesterday and thought I’d combine them into one post. They’re both inspiration and touching – the kinds of videos I enjoy watching because they make me think, and when I think, I am often inspired to take those ideas even further. So here they are:
What happens to us when times get tough? People always say that the only constant in life is change. Things are always changing, although not necessarily in good ways. Sometimes it’s good, but every once in a while we encounter the bad, and who’s to say what is positive and what is negative? I think we have to agree – and it certainly shows in all of my writing – that we understand nothing. We try to make sense of the world as best we can, given our limited resources, knowledge, and wit. There will never be a day, at least in the near future, where we understand all that there is. Tough times call for thicker skin, right? It’s what everyone I’ve ever met tells me. But I always force myself to remember that tough skin makes us immune to all the rest of the stimuli in the world. Building yourself to be tough is not always good. Take it from someone who has spent almost half of his life doing just that. I wouldn’t say that it’s hopeless, but it most certainly isn’t necessary. Why do we feel the need to create this impermeable exterior while inside, we’re slowly crumbling under the pressures of being human?