thrive

bike..
It’s funny how it hit me: Tonight, I had to write.

I’ve been putting it off for ages, trying to find my voice. Writing is my passion, but there is never time, never the place. There are always things in the way — things of higher priority — and there are bills to pay. Blogging doesn’t help much with bills.

And then there’s topic. What on earth do I want to say? My little brother got married a few weeks ago. I cut my finger so deeply I could see the tendon. I started a new job working with young kids. Traffic is insane in the Bay Area. The weather is different here. Homelessness is everywhere here. And, and . . .

People are people. It’s what I keep coming back to. Here in Berkeley the population is incredibly diverse. There are black people and white people and red people and yellow people. There are people wearing saris and turbans and skullcaps and blue jeans and pant suits and rags. We are all so different, and yet . . . forever the same.

And that’s why I love you . . . and you and you and you (especially you, hatted boy). I love you because I am like you. I breathe and cry and laugh and try and fail and try again just like the rest of you. I am sick when the world is evil but thrilled when love calls my name. (Thank you, sweetie…)

I am human, and I will thrive. Until my dying day, I will thrive.

And you will, too.

I know it.

..

no matter what you eat . . .

Fish head soup is a common meal in China.

Unfortunately, fresh fruit isn’t *all* kids eat in the States.

Bugs are a common treat throughout Asia.

Or how you do your hair . . .

Pink! Tokyo, Japan.

Some like it short, and to look like wallpaper. United States.

Orthodox Jewish boys in Palestine.

“Baba” in Nepal.

what you wear . . .

Woman in India.

“Goth” teens in the States.

Boys in Incwala.

Muslim women in Karnataka.

or if you like to wave it around like you just don’t care . . .

Tribesmen dancing in Uganda.

Girl. Anywhere.

People are people.

In case I didn’t paint a clear enough picture in my last post, I thought this one might help.

Boy from the Solomon Islands.

Next time: “Talking Heads.” A look at how language shapes culture, and vice versa. And how it feels to be a foreigner, in oblivion.

Note: Images taken from a variety of sources on the Internet. I will be posting a list with each individual source soon. Not meaning to infringe on any copyrights!