Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The feeling of flattery and obstruction, the rhythm changed to the life of a beginner. Learning more and holding more affection from what it seemed to be the darkest ambiguity. The polka runners, they begged for more attention, started to strengthen the gentleness of the morning weep.
By knowing the mantra, the foils of attest and long plush, the study of restlessness and dead-calmness aimed for comfort from another side of the independent setting and phenomenon. Butterflies of unfamiliar meaning reached the sheets of cold merry melancholy. The world started to animate.
Action and appearance initiated change. Elevated expectations starts the deafening paranoia uncovered with pessimism. Fast run-walk like a little-linked list of listening fears updated the progress of essence in one part of the situation.
The elegance of panic moved into mild controversy of the coast. Committed, entrusted the lights of the shadows turning back in front of the shattered melting cans. The wonderful image of the flight of the sweet cocoa and paper flowers began to proliferate. Like mellow pieces sitting on crumpled newspapers, the chorus repeated in a higher attitude it's everlasting desire.
New notes of singing nourishment crossed the leap of faith until the plucking sounds commenced the rearview mirror of wishful thinking.
Hope started to propose. This isn't the story of stop.
If such could see the blinds, no one will get out of here alive. The good violin showed how the story managed to continue to the end of the first wonder.
Labels: The Self to the Art
Erika Ruiz
Sunday, August 12, 2007
The two sat in silence. There was only one white plastic cup with straw on the black table. Suddenly, both saw a stereotypical lady walking towards the north wearing turquiose dress with red laces. Solarc started to talk and said that the lady was his classmate on his highschool and pointed out on how that girl has the most number of clothes in which she had tried to hand laundry all of it until she lost both of her hands. By the time they saw her at present, she might have grew her hands back.
Akir started to talk to Solarc about something. Solarc nodded and added a short response no one could hear. Unexpectedly, Akir stood and went to her north and went to the washroom. She got in and it has the color of blue all around. She started to fix her wavy hair facing the mirror. She was beside some ladies retouching their make-ups in sort of an oddly desperate way. Then Akir started to see some familiar faces on the mirror while she was arguing with herself whether to make her hairline reside on the middle or on the left side. She decided to put it on her left side and she suddenly saw her friend, Aralnavi, who was a lady with big eyes and whom Solarc don't know about. Akir started to realize she was already taking a lot of time staying inside and remembered Solarc.
Aralnavi started to accompany her on her way out. Akir said she had a companion whom Aralnavi didn't know about also, but said that Aralnavi can come with them. They went out and saw Solarc on her seat with his laptop on and illuminating on his face and glasses on the table while doing an awkward peeping-almost-dancing on either of the laptop's side simultaneously. Akir and Aralnavi started to walk on the table.
A guy sat on Solarc's left side and talked. He had a very long forehead covered by a flowery light-colored cloth almost reaching the ceiling. Akir thought that the guy was familiar. He was Yckor, Solarc's friend who he didn't know she knew about including their history. Yckor started to notice Akir, walking to Solarc's right side, turned his head on Solarc, smiled, and said "yes, indeed." Akir didn’t know that Yckor knew about her too. She thought Solarc was the only one who knew her being in the side of the setting.
Solarc stopped doing the uncomfortable whereabouts and developed a very weird expression one could never define. When Akir reached her seat on the right side of Solarc and laid on it, she was surprised that she didn't notice that the seat all along has some water poured on it. The water made her pants go wet yet she didn’t get pissed. Aralnavi was just strangely staring almost like daydreaming.
Yckor and Solarc decided to go out and said goodbye to Akir and Aralnavi.
Labels: The Self to the Art
Erika Ruiz
Saturday, August 11, 2007
God's plans for the poor in the Creation is to show the people that we, as a society, charge an option for the poor and realize the importance of life in immaterial and material aspects. Christian beliefs are promoting the abandonment of the generalized spot of the poor to expose the order for equitable distribution of firms. In order to proclaim that our world has achieved proper justice, we are inclined to have a duty to consider the opinions and perception of the poor viewing it as our love to our people, to ourselves and to God Himself.
Relating the preference to the option for the poor to a concrete event in History provided social changes to the society. One event and person would be Mother Teresa and the things the Missionaries for Charity had done led by her.
"All the desolation of the poor, not only their material poverty but their spiritual wounds as well, need to be redeemed. We should share with them because only if we are united with them can we redeem them, bringing God to their lives and they, in turn, to God."
Mother Teresa, lived from 1910 to 1997, marked the hint for the people to be awakened and be unconscious of the things that are not 'substantial' and maintain the long process of having an option for the poor widespread enough for the spiritual leaders of the world followed to send an active spiritual guidance and social teaching. This enlightened us through the way of simplicity, poverty and adherence to the teaching of Christ.
She began serving the poor in 1946 with doing little things anyone can do for a start to a missionary life as one of a zeal with a translucent move forward and a powerful belief of faith in action that adds to the holiness and wholeness of the start of a mission to change the world and have a bigger view and performance in seeking option for the poor.
Like the simple path St. Francis of Assisi took as a life and being the head of the Missionaries of Charity founded in 1950, she voluntarily went to different poor places - such as Calcutta, Ethiopia, Rome and etc. - and hugged their perception and problems as she help them like nothing in general is wrong. She spent hours embracing the sick, the homeless, the disabled and the poor. Our lives were opened to the basic teaching of a spiritual life to be viewed upon the words of Gospel - the Christian way of prayer, love, forgiveness, proper judgment, humility, truth and total surrender to the World - to the poor, and to the people who are bound to be in service for help. Such social teaching was made big with Mother Teresa's everlasting clemency.
Mother Teresa, being one of the most powerful women of the world, was said to be one of the greatest prophets of the option for the poor in the Church and in the world, according to a senior Jesuit from Calcutta. It only means she gives equal attention to every individual she meets definitely calling to achieve nothing to make your life be lessened and incomplete. She created a compassionate legacy to open a second glance in improving the social teaching preferential option for the poor with selflessness, generosity, sensitivity, hope, comfort and peace without stressing change in society, but by doing it in action and showing experience.
Knowing Mother Teresa's name is enough to know what are the concrete events in History that boosted preferential option for the poor teaching. Her simple path of silence to prayer to faith to love to service and to peace made a big impact on the world. She didn't force people to create drastic change; instead, with her powerful human force reflected in God's providence, she was able to open a possibility for the poor to have proper judgment and justice. Mother Teresa was not poor, but she made herself poor by her own option by being a servant of the poor and of God that gives her common power enough to retaliate revolutions for the better. She was able to capture the hearts of many people that made her worthy to be beatified as a Saint six years after her death by just experiencing true freedom. She didn't work to remove poverty; she worked to remove the common bad by just showing compassion as a capital agenda.
"They are the ones who have nothing to prove or to protect - no posing, no posturing before people or before God. When all you've got is what you've got, all that's left is to be yourself and you can only receive. And that, in a sense, is why the poor are blessed, because they know what really matters." According to a volunteer priest who helped Mother Teresa in Calcutta. It only means to serve the poor will allow them to expose what is really essential and what it is really to explore than other material aspects basing it from their non-locality.
It is not to press that God doesn't want others to be happy by making poor people on purpose, but it is to impose and for people to realize on how to improve our judgments without it having corrupt conclusions. God is showing us on how to have an affirmative reaction towards the wrong standard produced by the society and its created values.
Labels: Formal Exposition
Erika Ruiz
Thursday, August 09, 2007
They were supposed to meet in a place no one knows. She went first, her yellowish-flesh skin in a yellow dress over a black chaleco. She saw two large opposing structures facing each other. In between the two buildings was a very large dead rectangle plain. The nowhere setting had no color than the color of sepia and cement and monotone. The building on the east was where she stayed and waited and there she saw that the building on the west has come stairs outside. She started to walk to the west building to seat on the stairs.
Someone's peeping.
He came, his white skin in and wearing a gray shirt over a black chaleco, from the darkness and appeared translucent on the east while she was walking through the lifeless rectangle plain to the building on the west. He called her name more than one breath and time in a sweet voice with a charming accent.
She willingly sat on the stairs. She heard him calling her. Suddenly, a little girl she cannot portray talked to her in a calm, but neutral ambiance. She stood. She walked through the unadorned rectangle plain to the building on the east.
Silence and eyes were blinded in slow motion.
He ran into the darkness on the left side of the building on the east. She followed him and saw his car bumped to a large circular-carriage vehicle. He started to solve the conflict. There she went on his side for support. Abruptly, the helper came, a tall lady with shoulder-length black hair, and talked to a strange man same with the helper's height who looks like the helper's friend and whom she cannot describe. The two, the helper and the helper’s friend, who were talking and now smiling-near-laughing, separated him and her. She doesn't know if he was aware of what happened yet she didn't feel sadness and doubt. He was finding resolve over a different happening; she went to the right path of the darkness behind the building on the east to find comfort.
The darkness created the littlest shiny-rusty glow.
She found a Chinese building perfectly right behind the building on the east. The house possesses the grungy paper texture glow. She decided to go in and feel solace until a young man wearing circle glasses and panicking started to run-jump to go out and went in back after seeing her in his big startled eyes without making any body movements. She started to get confused. Unexpectedly, she saw her Chinese friend, a lady with straight long black hair wearing corporate attire. Her Chinese friend looked at her and started to talk in Chinese language with an old man, wearing white shirt and shorts and rugged slippers, who appeared on another door of the Chinese building. She could only hear them speak. She couldn't understand their serious small talk. The old man nodded. Her Chinese friend helped her to get in. She walked to reach the Chinese building door, where the horrified young man came into view, but stopped on the stairway. She saw her acquaintance, a thin man dancing and wearing smart casual clothing, beaming at her with her acquaintance's usual facial frame. She looked even more confused.
The lights went black.
She woke up in the bedroom of her Spanish house. He was sleeping beside her. She turned her back on him, sleeping on his back, and slept again in beautiful peace.
She woke up without seeing him beside her. She saw a note of his telling her to smile and she smiled. For the past few days, he gave her five different animal plush-ies, one everyday. The last one was a weird care bear plush-ie. She hanged the five plush-ies on her window left side.
The days, hesitant to pass, pondered with the same harmony.
She woke up not seeing him and his note and felt a bit empty. The helper came in her aged bedroom with new white bed sheets smiling. The helper was the peeper. The helper said how he only gave other damsels with same gifts of flower colognes and told her she was the only one who received plush-ies. She smiled truthfully in her heart. The helper asked why she was smiling. She smiled even more. She felt so wonderful.
She doesn't know what went after.
She wrote this on a hard stocking cover sheet of paper in orange-inked pen after dreaming about it last night where she slept in a mysterious, different and more comfortable ground.
There was still no the end.
Labels: The Self to the Art
Erika Ruiz
Friday, August 03, 2007
Collect the silver cups
and create a golden line
I'll create a count down
and start to build some castles
Claim the shrewdness of a wonder core
This time, I'll do it with trust.
Protect and lean on die
Let me hope, soft and sweet
The softness of awe and nothing
Will start to light the match
Leave the ring to rot in rough silence
This moment, I'll learn to breathe.
Call and kill the snowfall
Strike the wild mind for more,
now I know what was it that I was lacking...
come to me, my dear-fool soul.
Labels: The Self to the Art
Erika Ruiz
