FB’s purpose

The mission statement of Facebook is something along the lines of “effectively connecting individuals to others in order to enhance one’s stalking abilities…” – okay maybe not but I know I am not the only to use FB as a tool to find things out about another or organization…whether it be intentional or unintentional ahaha. Anywho the other day I was on FB and came across the most beautiful little indie girl ever, whom I went to high school with – it was like almost rediscovering her…and on her “ABOUT ME” it had links to her two blogs one with “tumblr” and the other with “blogspot”…

I took a look at her writing and her passages and fell instantly in love with her messages here in one of my faves called I LOVE YOU:

When I was in the third grade I came across a passage in Chicken Soup For the Kid’s Soul ( yes, I read Chicken Soup and in fact was quite a fan) about an adolescent boy. In this narration the boy had been spending time with his father when, all of a sudden, he had this great urge to tell his dad he loved him. He pondered over whether it would be awkward to verbalize his feelings and if there was any point at all. The moment passed and he supressed the urge, just as soon moving on to the next thought ahead of him.
The next morning his father was killed in a car crash.

I was eight years old when I read this passage, and I still think about it frequently- when I get in fights with my family or friends; when I mistakingly say things I don’t mean, all in the aim to hurt. See, the thing is we don’t know how long we have to live, nor do we know how long the people around us have; your last moment could just be now.

For five years after I read that passage I made sure to say goodnight to my parents every night. And every morning before my daddy went off to work I made sure to tell him I loved him. If he left for work before I got the chance, or if I forgot I would begin to cry and then proceed to call him teary-eyed apologizing for forgetting. I can still remember hearing his smile on the other end of the line as he told me he loved me too.

Like clockwork I did that every morning and every night for five years until I didn’t anymore- and to this day I’m not sure why I stopped. Maybe I thought I was too old or maybe one night I just forgot and never again quite remembered, I don’t know. What I do know is this: the night my eight-year-old-self read about a boy who didn’t tell his father he loved him, I changed.

I realized that we don’t have everlasting amounts of time to tell the people we love that we do; I realized that words flow easily from our mouths, but stain harshly into the hearts of others; and I realized that there is no such thing as forever, only Now.

So love all that you can, and apologize for all you’ve done wrong. And never, never forget to say I Love You.

Hopefully she won’t be mad that I copied this but I kept it anonyomous

Read more of what this girl has to offer via http://meezahehtesham.tumblr.com/




Astu Mengesha – stay down blaze up

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