i dont know if anyone on here still reads my posts but if they do ive defected to this blog

Well

I always have had a terrible tendency to abandon blogs throughout the years. There always comes a point where I feel too overwhelmed to attempt putting my thoughts in writing. Hopefully I can pick this thing back up consistently once more. I've been taking a poetry class and I feel like its done wonders for my writing. Here's a few.


Just give me a stage dive
A three second jackknife into a raging sea of perspiring men
Standing shoulder to shoulder
Shouting words like some demonic liturgy
Over the din of skin scraping feedback
And ear throbbing cymbal crashes
Just let me dive
My eardrums cry out for mercy from the clash of vocal cords and power chords
That almost block out the words:
Grow up. Get paid. Be responsible.
Sure, of course I will.
I'm obliged to do so
But tonight is Friday and I drove four hours
Paid 5 dollars in tolls and blew at least 5 more stops
To get to this shady looking club
Surrounded by liquor stores and strip clubs
To see a bunch of out of work twenty somethings play instruments
So let me be, cus for a brief moment
When I launch myself off that sneaker bruised stage
I'm an Olympic gymnast on my gold medal dismount
Untouchable
Credit card vertical be damned I'm '96 Jordan in his prime
Pure poetry
For that three seconds I'm high above the teenagers second hand smoke
A stratosphere away from the angry minimum wage workers running in circles
The world is just right
And when I come crashing to earth
And every bone in my out of shape body feels like jumbled up pieces in an erector set
I think, maybe I'm getting too old for this......
But the band just announced they're playing a Minor Threat cover
So if you could excuse me for just one moment, responsibility
I have to take a dive




JEONG

Hello Mr. Lee, Ms. Kim
I'm here today to speak to you both about your son.
Oh, Mr. Lee, you were not aware of a son?
My apologies.
Ms. Kim gave birth to a premature baby on the 3rd of January 1989
She gave him up for adoption on January 4th 1989
Not to worry the boy has become a young man.
Please wipe away those tears Ms. Kim, they are quite unflattering.
Did you know that your son, the boy you didn't name.... please Mr. Lee don't appear so stunned.
You were only 24 and she was 32, it didn't work out, I understand.
But I digress. Your no name boy sometimes spends what feels to him like hours looking at his bathroom
mirror wondering which features each of you gave him.
I can see now that he has your eyes Ms. Kim
And certainly that defiant look he gives when he feels something is unjust, Mr. Lee, he received that from you.
Your son used to imagine being swept away from rural prison by you two. In his dreams you had wealth.
In his dreams you would give him anything he would like.
I see now that these dreams were a far cry from reality.
But not to worry he's matured since then.
He's traveled a bit as well.
He was blessed enough to see where you have walked.
Wondering if he had passed you in Buson or caught a glimpse in Seoul.
Ms. Lee, you would recognize him you say?
Would you hug him, throw your arms around 21 years
21 years of simmering anger
21 years of questioning tears
21 years of immeasurable doubts
You would? Good.
Because your son would do the same.

It's been too long

I've neglected this blog for quite some time now. But it seems I never know how to put all these experiences into proper sentences. Adjusting to home has been easy and difficult at the same time. In some ways I feel like I've never left but when I'm not around my old friends my mind starts wandering towards other things and I start to realize how foreign my surroundings are starting to become. I've started to neglect time with my Father and I feel like I'm relapsing into old habits once again.


Terminal Views

God I need to find some truth in this
I just want to be happy where I'm at

But foxes have holes
Birds have nests
and it seems I have no
place to let my head rest

I'm starting to think that sentiment may hold some truth
When Dublin's sunrise is all I see
So far removed from that rolling midwest view
My life now seems to consist of airport ques
It's ages away in my mind
but the midwest is as close to me as the veins are to my skin
as vital as the heart they pump into
I would kill to feel the cool Illinois breeze
The kind that send leaves blowing end over end

I feel it
Hear it
Beckoning with open palms to lay my luggage at its door
But two days home and my legs get that restless itch
and my mind starts chasing after timezones once more
Each time away I leave with less baggage but with more urgency inside my chest
A stronger outlook towards tomorrow but an even greater love for times before
There is no
no place to lay my head
no other place that has my heart

13 Days

Till I come home. All I ask from the Lord is let me keep my passion I have right now. Allow me to cherish the time at home with the ones I love. I can't ever allow complacency to creep into my life again.

A Letter To A Friend

Blaine I'm glad everything's going so well for you. This time away from home has been a dizzy whirlwind of an experience. My concept of God has grown so much and He's shown me how big he actually is. I've felt more growth in the last 4 months than I have in almost 2 years. This trip has left me with a thorough addiction to traveling I think. In the next month I'm vacationing for 4 days in Prague. I'm very excited to have real time alone to explore the city and reflect with God on this entire experience.

I've definitely fallen in love with the city of Amsterdam. Though it's a seemingly confusing city at first it's easy to get attached to the quaint beauty of the old architecture, hidden shops, and cafes. Fridays and Saturdays are always the busiest with tourists coming in from the UK and France mostly. Sundays are quiet and sleepy. Like my friend Matt Nanes said "Sunday feels like the whole city has a hangover." Which I think is a pretty accurate description.

The hostel in the summer time was filled with guests from all over the world ranging from Israel to the Congo. The hostel was always filled with the sounds of music from the number of talented guests that used our piano and guitar in the cafe (one night a concert level pianist from France played, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard). The other sound that the hostel was filled with was drunken guests who came in at 4 or 5 in the morning. The Shelter City is chaotic and messy which is the reason why I made it very clear I wanted to work there instead of the more subdued Shelter Jordan to the west.

Besides all the joy that's found in the hostel there's also lots of frustration. With yourself and people around you. Too many times did I feel inadequate to help those with problems around me. I felt like someone who trained in a wading pool but discovered at the day of the race that you would be swimming the English Channel instead. One night that's forever burned into my memory is a woman and her child from Israel wanted a room for the night. Even without her speaking you could see from her eyes that the world had broken her down and made her bitter and angry. She explained how she had been staying at a man's house in the city but saw that he had womens clothing in plastic bags in his closet in all different sizes. This for very good reason scared her and made her decide to check in here. We could only give her a room for one night which infuriated her and she made the remark she thought this was a "christian" hostel. She then explained how every religion had failed her starting with Judaism and now Christianity had failed her now to. The woman said she was going to try Buddhism next in hopes that they were better people. I felt so sad for this woman and her child. Blaine her child must have been one maybe one and a half years old. It felt like the child had no future with this broken woman who kept moving from place to place.

But amidst stories like this I've found so much hope but I'll write about that next
time.

PS: If you don't mind I'm going to use this part for my blog as well.

Best wishes,

Jeff

The problem is this, I have nary a clue what to put in them to be honest. How in the world am I supposed to cram a week or three of information into this small space on the internet? Anyway I've decided to plug along even with this seemingly daunting task in front of me. Today was my appointment at the IND(immigration office) for my one year work visa. The directions seemed simple enough but somehow I ended up walking in circles and ten minutes late to a meeting that decided if I get to stay in the Netherlands or not. But by God's good Grace the meeting went smoothly without a hitch. When I arrived at the house I discovered I was late for MTP class. We had a visit from the Scarlet Cord today for the lesson. The Scarlet Cord is an organization that shares the Shelter City hostel building. They are a christian group funded by the government to help prostitutes that want to escape from the business. For over two hours the Scarlet Cord representative explained the realities of human trafficking in the Red Light and also the rest of modern Europe. Thousands of women are exploited and sold as commodities to the highest bidder. These men usually prey on women with insecurities allowing them to be abused and thrown away after they outlive their usefulness. Many of the representatives stories reminded me so strongly of a friend of mine. My head started swimming with past events and it made me question my actions making me wonder if I could have done things differently.

Precious girl please explain to me what you see in him
It seems like such a one way street
He destroys, You rebuild
He takes till you stand with empty hands
Like a rose trying to bloom thats being choked by a self chosen vine
I remember the words you spoke that night
would it have helped If I had yelled, balled my fists, made the choice you didn't dare to make
Past is past and it slips through my grasping fingers like water pouring from a glass
It makes me wonder if a caged bird saw an open window would it even know how to fly