The Disrespectful Summons

Calling all Angels

Indian Beat-boxing

Dreams of Food and Future

I would like to switch to a whole food traditional Indian diet. I would eat only fresh or frozen fruits, vegetables and meat. My kitchen will always be full of fresh fruits and vegetables. I would never buy canned or boxed food. I hate how much salt is in things like that. I will not have canned food in my house, unless it if pet food. I will make my own soups from all fresh ingredients. Sadly I do not have a kitchen of my own. When at the mercy of family and friends’ cooking, it can be very difficult to avoid unhealthy ingredients. I do my best to choose the healthiest food in the house but I still much eat what others cook. All leftovers must be gone before I can cook something I like. I eat when and what the family eats, both out of respect and out of fear. I respect the work they have put into making the meal and I fear the anger and the words that come if I don’t eat it.

I keep telling myself that soon. I will make money with my writing or find a husband. It would be best to have both. My plan is to work hard on my writing, try not to let others push me back into depression, and save up for a place of my own. I will leave the matter of a husband to God. Maybe he will help my sister and friends to find me a good husband.  

A simple promise, A small gift

I know this is not any of the articles I plan to write but even this small paragraph is important. This is step one of a promise I made to someone thousands of miles away from me. I promised that I would write one blog post every day, even if it is only a small paragraph about my day. I love all of my pen pals around the world for the simple joy they bring me, letters. Yes I know I write only emails to some and emails and letters to others, but it is still different then writing a letter to someone you can see or call every day. When I write to my pen pals I am allowed to travel. Every email or letter is a little glimpse into another world. I do not become a tourist standing in front of a place or mountain. I become a traveler let into the home of a friend. That to me is a gift that I both give and receive every time I send or reply to an email or letter. I have received postcards and letters that let my creative mind fly across the skies to another city or country where I feel welcomed like an old friend. The art of writing letters may be dying but at least I know that with every letter I am breathing more life into the art. This and many more small paragraphs to come are a gifts of language as well.