Battles, Pt. 2


There were still so many, and I was greatly outnumbered. I see everyone else around me, blood-streaked, in many parts, wounded.

But the snarls and the heavy steps and the gritted teeth gave their courage away.

I, on the other hand, was exhausted. I can hardly look up after striking one when another comes barreling in. Honestly, when can I have some air?

A sword plunged through my side; I had little sense to see the damage. All I knew is, there was a roar, a sickening crunch of armor, a sharp pain, and I was falling, falling backward…

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“Harsh, man. And then she stopped talking to you?”

“Yeah. I mean, what the heck. I played nice, I sat with her in all our classes together, even sought her out in their college fair the whole day, just to be around her. And she had this really confused look when I gave her that gift. I mean, didn’t she see all the signs?”

The two boys talked animatedly as they returned books from their cart to the library’s shelves. They laughed and joked around about the girl, not expecting the subject herself to appear as they rounded on the corner.

“Oh sh- Hi, Maven.”

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Obedience>Heart (Meaning, Feelings)


I’m a heart-person. My Myers-Briggs continue to insist that I am an INFJ, even if I took it countless times convinced that I am an ISFJ. In any case, I’ve long since concluded that the MBTI can’t totally explain a person’t entirety; and I rest my case.

That said, yeah, I am a heart-person. Quick to react, and sadly at times obeying ‘when the time is right’. I struggle to try anything without a solid settling of my heart. This is not what obedience looks like.

You could probably tell how my monologues to God would go. If not, well, I have an example.

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(We) Are not Super-people.


The only thing I like when I’m at sea is floating on my back. I have astigmatism that prevents me from looking too long into something bright, but I love laying on my back against the water, the feel of the water lapping at my body, being calmly tossed by waves. Sometimes I drift too far from shore; but there’s nothing to it when I can calmly swim back, still facing the sky, to the beach.

It feels like nothing can go wrong until I feel the familiar sensation that occasionally comes up when I swim; a foot cramp. Continue reading

Women Need Men To Act Like Real Men

I was on Facebook when I saw this post:

“His other friend approached me telling me I was wrong for what I did. That I should have just slapped him and told security. My girlfriends are livid, and I’m stunned. Really dude? Your friend sexually violated me and punched me in the face! My gentleman friend Daniel was finally by our side asking him, if someone grabbed your girlfriend’s chocha, would you not have smashed his face in? Of course. Of course. But to everyone’s bewilderment, I guess that’s what the problem was. I had done it myself. I took care of myself just fine.”

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