Running round

As of late, my life can be accurately described by the way I feel when I run.

I have had shin splints for a while now. When I run, my mind tells me to go far. My body tells me to go farther... When I start, I feel like I can run an hour, two hours. A few minutes in I feel good, I want to go faster, longer. But sooner than I want them to, my shins slow me down, pull me back. A crutch. I so desperately want to keep running, but it hurts. I eventually have to stop, even when most of my parts don't want me to.

Like running, doing work has become a similar struggle. I want to sit down, concentrate and be productive for three or four hours. Hell, I want to sit down and use one hour of time productively. But as soon as I start, there is a feeling that tugs at me — distracts me, slows me, stops me.

The problem is that while I can ice my shins, I haven't yet found a way to ice this feeling away.

"Love is an act of courage, not of fear" - Paulo Freire

Missing Cuba

As I begin my last year at Swarthmore, I can't help but think about my semester abroad. I can't help but miss it.
As happy as I am to be back, surrounded with so many intellectually curious and kind people, Cubans have a way of enjoying life that is hard to find elsewhere – especially at Swarthmore, where everyone is always stressing out about their ever-increasing important studies and lives.

It's hard to be so happy and find so much enjoyment in what is sometimes so little. But they do it.

I wonder whether I can too.

You may be gone but my teeth and gums are squeaky clean

I've still got flossing. 

You gave me (at least) that much. 

365 days ago
I was holding my phone up
Hoping airwaves would travel
From my end of the country to yours,
To deliver a promise.

365 days ago
I had 365 days ahead of me.
Today
I have the memory
Of the past 365 days
For the next.

Today I went down your timeline.
Down, perhaps, to 2010.
I'd say I got to know you.
The you you were back then.

Your smiles are wide and plenty
You share exciting news,
Reply to comments, pictures, tags.
You laugh, you drink, you schmooze.

Today you don't write on people's walls
You don't thank people for sharing
You ignore all the pictures that are up
Don't remark on what your friends are wearing.

I fear your inactivity
Means something bigger, something more.
If you're not having fun in pictures,
Are you having fun at all?

I now long to have known you
When smiles were all you knew,
When red cups frequented your big, rough hands
When your posts weren't far and few.

I wish Facebook didn't tell me
Who you used to be,
I look at who you are today,
And wonder how much it has to do with me.

Too much rests on 'I love you.'
We pile on the three-word shelf
Encyclopedias of happiness,
Manuals for self-fulfillment,
Novels that tell us
Where the meaning of life lies.
But three words can't encompass what we feel
Better than a 417 word song.
The unexpected smile that creeps up
When you look up and they're still there.
A longer embrace.
Confessing
That you bought them a toothbrush.