Tonight I am content. Maybe it’s in the way that I’m sitting at my desk, putting together the last of my Secret Santa gift for a friend that I owe gratitude unduly to for being herself.
Maybe it’s the sight of the books I snatched up from the swap meet (three for a dollar!) that marks the return to one of the greatest passions I have ever been privileged to experience.
Maybe it’s the peppermint mocha sprinkled with vanilla still hot from Starbucks that rests within reach of my right hand.
If I look up, past the halo of light that my study lamp gives off, I can make out the faces of friends that have stuck with me consistently through four years of high school. That itself sounds foreign to me because someone made me realize that for most of my life I didn’t really have friends, I had followers. So through life’s natural filter, I come up with a handful of friends that make up our motley crew. I have to admit that if someone asked me who I saw myself hanging with ten years ago, I’d assume my friends would be uniform, and restricted to social interaction at school. But now? My friends are idiots. The ‘ghetto-minded’ dancer, who really knows how to make friends with anyone. The tall, hidden-talented, not-so-mushroom-headed boy. The girl dancer who doesn’t mind confronting problems with people face to face. The ukulele toting handyman. The best friend I made in seventh grade, lost, and found again this year. The dearest person to me who also happens to share my room. Plus the other people who don’t make me want to rip my hair out. I love it. This whole semester they’ve managed to find a large enough boulder for me to sheath the sword titled ‘Liezel’s Loyalty’ - herein it lies, it shall not be moved.
Maybe it was how my grades raised after a much needed reality check. The hard work, the precious, precious time spent and now the reward of Christmas break. But then again, maybe it was in the itch on my forearm that went away when I scratched it. Because perhaps it means that if only for tonight, things will go my way.
You are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you. You are the goals that you set. You are the things that you laugh at and the words that you say. You are the thoughts you think and the things you wonder. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, but for the volume of the soul it carries.
Once New Year’s rolls around, I’ll have my reading list for 2012 to start on!
- Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
- House of Leaves - Mark Z. Danielewski
- John Dies at the End - David Wong
- Tree of Codes - Jonathan Safran Foer
- This Lullaby - Sarah Dressen
- The Rules of Attraction - Bret Easton Ellis
- I Am Legend - Richard Matheson
- World War Z - Max Brooks
- Invisible Monsters - Chuck Palahniuk
- Everything Is Going to Kill Everybody: The Terrifyingly Real Ways the World Wants You Dead - Robert Brockway
- Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami
- Dance Dance Dance - Haruki Murakami
- Cain - Jose Saramago
Only part of my list though, obviously. I’ve got twenty seven days to add more titles onto it, plus the random purchases I’m bound to make if anyone takes me to a book store… which I hope is soon.