Philosphical views turned human behavioral psychology turned daily pedestrian observance. October 9, 2012 The Innate Self-Concept and the Fragility of Community Bias 1. A person’s self-concept is a strong iron cast shielding the fragile personality, character and overall individuality of one’s persona. It’s a natural response for the self-concept to try and protect the individual. In place, we undergo self-enhancement. We bask in our own glory, self-handicap when need be, bec
When I feel scholarly. May 9, 2012 The Darwinian Revolution Under Modern Times The theory of Adam and Eve never quite resonated with me. My mother made it her will to convince me throughout my life that there is an all-knowing, all-seeing, all-creating omniscient God. I enjoyed the thought of having an all-powerful being looking down on me and protecting me, but I grew to realize that scientific fact overrules religious belief. It was nonsensical to think that the world’s pop
(Photo of my mother in 1973) April 28, 2012 Vintage Thrift; My Personal Style My wardrobe takes pieces from the past. Whether I’ve thrifted the clothes or found them in the closets of my grandmother, mother, aunt, or great aunt, my wardrobe contains the various vintage pieces of the 1920s until the 1970s. I have dresses embroidered with the flamboyance and splendor of the 1960s and dresses draped with the modesty and conservatism of the 1950s. I have faded vintage t-shirts fr
In memory of Virginia. For she is always resting in peace, and more so now that I live in New York City, but she will always be alive. May 4, 2011 The summer was memorable. My friend Joshua and I took drives across the countryside, but always ended up at the old church’s field and river on Bristow Road. We ran, racing against the sequences of the wind, barefoot, intertwined through our speed and scratchy throats from the inhaled pollen. The grass ran thick where we laid to vi
What does a 19 year-old girl know about love?
Not much more than having bigger eyes than her head can carry, gleaming with hope and curiosity. March 23, 2011 I bury myself into my mattress, unwilling to awake to this gloomy Wednesday morning. As my knees gain back strength from my corpse-like sleep, my feet role onto the carpet. Worried of the time, I hustle, and scramble my books and things together. As I leave the warm interior of my building the rain falls onto me politel
When I'm reminded of a familiar feeling of digression I look back at old writing. This little number stays with me fairly often, resonating in the soul of a writer. I'm thankful that this was 5 years ago, as I don't have the same issues. But what I do enjoy looking back on is that when in a rut, I resorted to writing, an art (and medicine, apparently) that to this day I hold so dearly. May 18, 2010 I’m dry, feeling brittle at my fingertips, no pen in hand, hesitant if any. Tw