the encounter (rated X)

Destiny-cloaked circumstance brought us together.  Alone in a foreign world, we were each other’s universe, and nothing else mattered.

I had laid utterly incapacitated in my itchy  bottom-bunk for the entire day.  A seemingly relentless and surprisingly traumatic fever had overpowered my mind, body, and soul in a way to which I can compare no previous illness.  My muscles throbbed with the dull ache of viral invasion.  Sweat poured forth as the Nile flows through the deserts of Egypt.  The air looked as liquid, and I floated my way through the room uncontrollably, without ever moving.  

in patience we shall overcome

A war is brewing, and I fear we may be on the losing side.  This war has been the subject of books and films for decades, a common topic instilling fear in some and bringing geeky delight to the sci-fi fanatics among us.  Yes, this is the war of the humans and the machines.

However, I believe this ensuing conflict is vastly different and more deeply sinister than anyone has thus far portrayed it.  It is not about mere violence, the relative powerlessness of the individual person, or the potential destruction of humanity.  It is not about the rise of artificial intelligence or the perfection of mechanical precision and strength.  It is a war waged in subtle battles in the most mundane of our daily activities.  It is a fight in which we engage consciously, and yet rarely do we fathom  the impending doom toward which we rapidly spiral.  

called to pray

This is a piece I wrote for my Residence Life class last semester.  It is true.

It resounds in the cool smog-filled air, a solitary voice in the quiet of the night.  Echoing around us, it seems to saturate our very beings to the core.  A chill possesses my body; a shiver stirs my soul.  It is 4:00 am, and we are standing atop a quaint hotel in Amman, Jordan.  I am overwhelmed with awe as this beautiful voice simultaneously pierces and suffuses the atmosphere with foreign words declaring the greatness of God.  The sound emanating from the massive minaret across the street dominates the landscape completely.  It has an ominous quality, a call that requires immediate and sincere response.  Rise from your slumber; prostrate yourselves before the Lord.  I have never heard so powerful an appeal.  Prayer is better than sleep.

i don’t write anymore

I apologize; this title is misleading.  I do write, just not here.  Time seems to be my enemy, and despite my attempts to love even my enemies, we can’t seem to work out our differences.  So in an attempt to appease the angry throngs clamoring for more of my pithy words (*silence*), or to satiate the appetites of those hungry for my wisdom, or just to get out some thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head, I propose to post some of my other writing, be it for class or other.  I promise nothing, but I hope a great deal.  I hope these posts of writings for non-blog purposes are of some value to you, because they are valuable to me.  Enjoy.