Shine Bright, Shine Far

What if every star in existence ever is actually the galaxy's representation of every soul?

Like, as a person is born, their star disappears from the night sky. As if the Milky Way is saying, your light shines so bright on Earth it has no need for a less luminous imitation. How scientists must be baffled, wondering at how stars are formed and how they die, when the answer is quite simple. 

And when a person's body dies, their soul rises once again with the moon, making that trip to return home with the rest of the souls who have come and gone before? And they shine so bright, looking out over the poor folk who feel left behind on Earth. Funny, the star-soul thinks, how dull and meaningless these people think they are, when in reality they cannot see how much brighter they glow when their gleam is given a frame from which to shine from.

And in truth, the star-souls are quite lovely in all their splendor. But one standing alone will never be so remarkable as a constellation, a glittering collection, portraying a picture with a thousand blazing mini suns. 

And once again, the star-souls sigh, we must stand together to obtain true recognition, and all the while, one embodied star can stand up in a crowd and immediately achieve anything they so wish, if only they unleash their glow.

How lucky these foolish humans are. To shine so bright, and yet never see such a beautiful reflection beaming back.

Things I Just Don't Understand

I like to thing I'm a reasonably intelligent human being. As I've already discussed, I love reading, I've been a bookworm since I was in preschool. I have a fairly high IQ, and I was a gifted scholar all through grade school. I pick up on concepts quickly, and I love learning new things. Especially about different cultures and interaction among subgroups.

But there are just some things that don't make sense to me. I like to speak proper English, and the closest I get to falling into slang is when I abbreviate my words, or utilize text lingo.

Example: "OMG, did you see the new Michael Kors crossbody? It was totes presh."

Very rarely am I that bad, and half the time when I speak in such a way, I'm joking around.

So basically, I can get really offended/irritated when people try to hold a conversation with me, IN ENGLISH MIND YOU, and I cannot understand a word they are saying. I know there is a culture gap here, and that doesn't bother me. 

But do I really look like the kind of girl who will understand you when you ask if I have an old man? 

I kid you not. Approximately a month or so ago, give or take a few days, I was riding on the bus towards downtown when a (ghetto as all out) gentleman proceeds to lean across his seat, pull out one of his headphones (from which I could hear some gangsta rap song about asses) and ask me "Hey baby, ya gotta old man?" 

I stared at him for a good two minutes. Just stared. "I'm sorry?" I said.

"Gotta old man?"

Now, I looked around the bus. Please God, tell me someone can decipher this man's cryptic code. I swear, I had no idea what he was trying to ask me. Do I know an older man? Or wait, isn't an old man a father figure? Is he asking me if I have a father? I went with the dad thing, and returned with- "Yes actually, I do. And he rides a motorcycle. And like his guns."

Honestly, I probably could have left off the last two bits there, but I really wanted to drive it in that I was Daddy's Little Girl, and you don't wanna fuck with my Daddy.

I turned to the trusty snapchat, and proceeded to mass address everyone in my top list a query as to his meaning. I got five replies within five minutes, an interesting assortment of loud laughter and Are You Serious looks. Now bewildered, I texted my best guy friend who is the most street guy I know. He quickly texted back, asking if I was okay, what had I told the guy, and if I needed backup in a bad part of town, or picking up from the bus stop. I reassured him, saying I had a fully charged phone and Mace, and that I was nearly home. He then gave me a rundown on what I had just told the guy.

Needless to say, I blushed the rest of the way home.

A Letter To An Empowered Pastor

I understand we all have a right to an opinion. I myself hold beliefs that others close to me strongly object to, and I in turn cannot relate or comprehend their beliefs in some matters. We are each our own person, and we have the American right to protect and defend our beliefs as much as we are able. However, the Constitution never once says we have the right to inflict verbal and emotional harm upon others for the sake of our beliefs. The Constitution does not grant us the power to spew our vile hatred in a place of learning and acceptance, public the place may be. The Constitution ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT give us the freedom to mock, and deride, and berate, and admonish others for something that is near and dear to their hearts.

 

How is it your right, sir, to cause distress to me and mine, by spreading around your intolerant ignorance of matters you refuse to even educate yourself of? How is it your right, sir, to tell me what I am NOT to do behind closed doors, within the sanctity of my own bed? How is it your right, sir, to come to a place where my peers and I are attempting to learn how to better our world, and rain down your prejudice and judgement on our Green?

 

Some stood by and laughed as you preached. I can understand why, you looked ridiculous in your getup as you tore down everything I stand for. Others just smiled bitterly, they'd already had their turn at defending their side of the story and tearing down YOUR beliefs with a few well chosen turns of phrase. A few more perhaps nodded along to your bile, confirming what you felt deep inside, though never once speaking up in defense of you and yours. 

 

I instead, began to tremble. 

 

I literally couldn't believe you had such balls, to stand there and say what you said, wear what your wore, with such PRIDE. A deadly sin, no? Yet there you stood, so proud to preach to campus members, tired from classes and work, as they circled around you like hyenas watching their bumbling pathetic prey.

 

And pathetic you are.

 

You can mock. You can deride. You can berate. You can spill your hatred of everything I feel and hope for and love.

 

But I know Jesus said not one word against homosexuals, despite your frenzied ranting.

 

I know the Bible also says women who've recently given birth should be steered clear of for at least a week, for their bodies are dirty and sinful. Would you lock away your post-partum wife in a room somewhere, good sir?

 

I know the Bible forbids the eating of lobster. Do you like seafood?

 

I know the Bible says not one word against slavery, yet you'll never see me with someone kneeling at my feet.

 

And I know, if I were to fall in love with a woman, my friends, family, and Sisters would stand by me, cheer us on, march at our sides in a Pride Parade, and have places of honor at our wedding.

 

I know any children we had together would have so much love in their lives, of so many races, genders, ethnicities, and varied appearances they could never judge something so pure they way you can.

 

I don't know how you came to your conclusions.

I don't know how you can look me in the eye as you disparage everything this country stands for.

But I know something you do not.

I know in the end, the gays will win out.

They will have marriage.

They will have babies.

They will have the freedom to serve openly in the military.

The real question is.

What will you have?

-Nicki Valentine

"I believe in God, but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky. I believe that what people call God is something in all of us. I believe that what Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha and all the rest said was right. It's just that the translations have gone wrong." -John Lennon

Reality

Sometimes, I like to read.

That statement was a total lie.

I LOVE to read. I read while I'm watching TV, listening to music, eating, in the bath, on break at work, before I fall asleep. I am constantly close to my phone or a paperback. I get itchy when I don't have the OPTION of reading, even if I don't actually want to read at that moment. It's probably a legitimate problem, but I could honestly care less if it is, so there's that.

I'm really weird about my reading habits though. I'm weird about a lot of things, but I've heard, numerous times, that my reading habits are towards the top of my Awkward list. 

I will be in the middle of several books at one time. If you enter my room, you'll see several books lying propped up or with worn bookmarks poking out between browned pages.

My Current List:

The Notebook

Ender's Game

Death Comes to Pemberley

Coco Chanel

Pride & Prejudice

And that list doesn't include my fanfics I'm following. 

For those out there who don't know what fanfiction is, stop reading, and google that shit. It can change your life, and you may begin a new addiction, which is always fun.

Reading fanfics apparently is also weird. So, if picking up a book, putting it down four chapters in, and continuing another book 12 chapters in isn't odd enough, the twenty or so incomplete fan made works of fiction definitely freaks some of the more infantile bookworms out.

I disregard the opinions of those who do not love the written word, as theirs is an uneducated thought that bears little mind.

But really. I'm not sure how I can also start following other people's blogs on the regular, as I'm still learning my way around blogspot, and have UTTERLY no time with the books I'm trying to read for fun, the books I now have to read for class, and work on the side. Trying to pick up on backreading someone's blog to get caught up, and then following them every week, would be hell on earth.

Despite my love of the idea, and the possibility I may get more inspiration for my own blog. Speaking of which! I seem to have trouble coming up with things to write about. I always do well when someone poses an argument, or gives me a thought to think on, but without such a nudge, I- like many others before my time- get stuck.

I mean, if Jenna Marbles can do it...

-Nicki Valentine

"A person who won't read has no advantage over one who can't read." -Mark Twain

From Vows To Contracts

So many people react in the most comical ways when I posit a new theory. I can admit to being a bit of a "Luna Lovegood" when it comes to my way of thinking. I've had a few outlandish ideas, and more than my fair share of blonde moments. But I'm also really good at covering for them, and have been told to bear a shrewd mind that commands a conversation, when the "victim" is intelligent enough to follow my more outrageous leaps.

Case in point. When I've been drinking, I get the urge to do one (or more) of three things: eat all the good food in sight, flirt and tempt an attractive individual down a path of wickedness, or conduct a drunken battle of intellect, which generally leads to one of the options stated above, funny enough.

At the last party I attended, a birthday party for a gentleman I'd never met before (and still can't, for the life of me, remember the name of), I proceeded to "enjoy" myself. After a few resounding games, during which I hated myself for being on the losing team, I and a few girls I knew well sat around on the large lounger with some of our common male friends to chat and relax from the previous adrenaline rush. Obviously, this led to my being introduced to a cute guy I'd seen talking earlier with a friend we had in common. 

I'm not good at striking up conversation with someone I barely know. I'm even worse at flirting with someone, even if they're flirting back, so generally half of my quips are sarcastic at best, if not outright offensive. I rarely feel much guilt though, as lucky enough, the people I tend to hang out with laugh at my sense of humor, and aren't so lacking in self esteem as to take me seriously. He was obviously strong enough to keep up with me, and we quickly found ourselves starting up a debate, that bounced from topic to topic with all the skill and speed of an Olympic-level gymnast. 

Now, this is where it begins to get a bit fuzzy. I hadn't quite taken leave of my senses, I'd barely been affected by what I had consumed. But due to the conversation itself, and my terrible short term memory, I have no idea how we got onto the subject of marriage. But I found myself stating my view of marriage being a business contract, conducted behind the veil of love. He went up in arms, an apparent romantic at heart, and tried to call me out on my cynicism. If it'd been any other topic, I would have agreed, but I didn't want to be taken as a frigid bitch, so I found myself quickly defending my stance, instead of leaving it a mystery.

I said, when you get married, you take vows. Vows of a marriage, similar to terms of a contract, are promises one person makes to another person, in order to obtain a form of partnership. And what is marriage if not the most fundamental of all partnerships?

These vows a person takes during a wedding, while different to each individual, generally share common denominators. A promise to hold the other person above all others, to stand by their side through good times and bad (no matter the form), and to maintain and nurture the bond first formed in the beginning of the courtship, throughout the length of the marriage, however long that may be. Parallel to a business contract, which will often have similar demands. To respect the partnership, to maintain equal status, and to honor the needs first demanded in the beginning, through however long the business partnership may last.

Now in a business contract, when one of the terms fails to be met, the trust forged in the beginning is forever changed - if not lost entirely. Most partnerships then are dissolved, through legal means, and often frought with stress and high emotions. 

If, in a marriage, a vow is broken, does it not also break a similar trust? When the vow is broken, is forgiveness possible? Rarely, research shows. It is hard to forget such a betrayal, be it of the body, of the mind, or of the means. It doesn't matter if the broken vow was one of fidelity, or one of emotional or financial support. The broken vow is a broken term of the contract, and one half of the partnership, if not both sides, will immediately begin to seek ways to resolve the pain and stress. Often, it means splitting ways.

So why is it the end of a marriage is conducted in so much more of a business manner than the beginning? The beginning is so often remembered with romance and passion, flirty touches and warm embraces. The idea of a wedding leads to thoughts of happy ever after, and few couples actually sit down and discuss what each want from the marriage, what each need, and what each can live without. But you best believe it will be the first thing each begin to shout about when they are mediating with their lawyers!

If the beginning of a marriage is approached rationally and thoughtfully, I personally believe there would be fewer divorces. If you treat the marriage of love with as much respect as you do a business contract of money, the love will be tendered to grow and flourish, as does the money.

Sit down with your future partner. Create a list of things you each want, need, refuse to deal with, and things you can live with/without. Compare the lists, and come up with a compromise in the very beginning. Discuss each point thoroughly. Discuss decisions that will come up in the future. How do you each feel about children? How many? Religion importance? Location? What if one of you is relocated or promoted in your career field? What if, for some awful reason, something severe occurs to one or both of you? Write down your decisions as a unit, sign it at the bottom, frame it, and either put it in a lockbox or in a safe place, to be referred to as needed. Do the same with your vows, and hang them in a place where they can be seen everyday. Reflect on them everytime you pass by. Pull out your contract with every fight. If ever it es to be too much, sit with the contract, and renew your terms. Discuss the original plan, find out where things went wrong, and figure out how to save yourselves. Renew your vows. Renew your commitment. Nurture a new love.

Treat your marriage better than a passing summer romance. It is, for lack of a better word, a contract. And I personally am not a person who goes back on my word. When I get married, it will be for good. It will be for the rest of our days. And it will be for love. But it will not be fleeting, or irrational.

Because I have a brighter future than as a discarded starter wife. 

-Nicki Valentine

"Marriage is an adventure, like going to war." - Gilbert K. Chesterton