At a glance over my archives, June was a wussy month. May's rocking the year so far; glance at that and it screams stay-at-home-emotion. Simply by counting the numbers, one glance could count all my secrets away. Writing is my escapism; if I didn't write, it's because I'd escaped.
...
The Creative SwEEEEt!
"We're all over creativity like a fat kid on cake!
.
.
.
(no offence!)"
Man, that'd be awesome.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The Line
I see you. I know who you are. I know when you come, where you go, when you go. I know how you get here, and I even know why you came in the first place--who brought you here. But what I don't know, is why you keep coming back.
If it's been decided where I stand, then why return, except perhaps the fact that you can't help yourself? A fondness? An obsession? A curiosity? Curiosity can be dangerous; there's more here to harm than you'd expect. Watch out.
If it's been decided where I stand, then why return, except perhaps the fact that you can't help yourself? A fondness? An obsession? A curiosity? Curiosity can be dangerous; there's more here to harm than you'd expect. Watch out.
Her
We said let it go but I kept on hangin' on
Inside I know it's over you're really gone
It's killing me cause there ain't nothing that I can do
Baby I stay in love with you
And I keep on telling myself that you'll come back around
And I try to front like 'Oh well' each time you let me down
See I can't get over you now, no matter what I do
Baby baby, I stay in love with you.
--Mariah Carey, "I Stay In Love"
Inside I know it's over you're really gone
It's killing me cause there ain't nothing that I can do
Baby I stay in love with you
And I keep on telling myself that you'll come back around
And I try to front like 'Oh well' each time you let me down
See I can't get over you now, no matter what I do
Baby baby, I stay in love with you.
--Mariah Carey, "I Stay In Love"
Monday, July 28, 2008
Silver
Tonight I met the Storyteller with many pens, the Muscle with many trades, the world's oldest Puppy, and the sweetest, biggest, living Teddy Bear. They didn't belong to me, but amazing as they were, they still didn't amount to what I have.
...
It's not a line, but it's something to remind me to keep grasping.
...
It's not a line, but it's something to remind me to keep grasping.
In the water
Drowning in my own sea of seething sombreness, I find no one on shore to throw me a line, simply because there's no one else who understands why I'm here.
Yesterday's insulted injury was cutely amusing, but today's was an accidental mortal wound. Recently was I forced to learn what discrimination by association was in order to defend myself from it. Unfortunately, I'm also learning that I can be attacked from both sides.
The characters of stories can be so easily re-cast to fit the script.
Yesterday's insulted injury was cutely amusing, but today's was an accidental mortal wound. Recently was I forced to learn what discrimination by association was in order to defend myself from it. Unfortunately, I'm also learning that I can be attacked from both sides.
The characters of stories can be so easily re-cast to fit the script.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Faster Friday
"Can you please make this day go faster?"
"Did you want me to sing?"
...
"Are you singing?"
"Why, is the day going by faster?"
"Did you want me to sing?"
...
"Are you singing?"
"Why, is the day going by faster?"
Thought of the day
It feels exciting because it feels real.
...
Censorship is not so bad when you have a soft-spot for that which censors.
...
Censorship is not so bad when you have a soft-spot for that which censors.
Relentless
"How've you been?"
"Not bad, just keeping busy."
"Keeping busy being 25 and single?"
"Well, you don't have to TELL everyone that!"
...
And it's true; sometimes you don't want people to know what your status is, Facebook or not, whether you're trying to change it or not.
Sometimes it's nice to have the shield of another, though in this case it's never made a difference. There are always eyes following me, trying to meet mine; there are always compliments said, just a little too loudly to ensure they reach my ears; there are always invitations to join in, even if I'm the only other guest. And awkward as situations can get to be, how do you say "no" to a question that's never been asked of you?
"Not bad, just keeping busy."
"Keeping busy being 25 and single?"
"Well, you don't have to TELL everyone that!"
...
And it's true; sometimes you don't want people to know what your status is, Facebook or not, whether you're trying to change it or not.
Sometimes it's nice to have the shield of another, though in this case it's never made a difference. There are always eyes following me, trying to meet mine; there are always compliments said, just a little too loudly to ensure they reach my ears; there are always invitations to join in, even if I'm the only other guest. And awkward as situations can get to be, how do you say "no" to a question that's never been asked of you?
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
A cure for office PMS
"Wanna listen to white guys with guitars sing?"
"YES."
...
John Mayer
Brett Dennen
Gavin Degraw
Paolo Nutini
Jason Mraz
Justin Hines
James Morrison
*sigh* much better.
"YES."
...
John Mayer
Brett Dennen
Gavin Degraw
Paolo Nutini
Jason Mraz
Justin Hines
James Morrison
*sigh* much better.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
At the Airport
A familiar back at the airport catches my eye. A shy person by nature, I inhale deeply as I think of what to say.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?”
The back turns to face me and it takes a moment for his face to crinkle into the sweet smile I can recall in a heartbeat.
“Shouldn’t you be...somewhere?” he replies. He shifts over in his seat to make room for me to sit down next to him. We exchange the routine greetings before he explains that he is returning from a trip home to visit family—he’s returning on a
weekday to get some more work done before his classes resume.
“So what are you doing here?”
I in turn explain that I’ve been away, traveling alone in an attempt to find myself and enjoy what little time I have before officially joining the work force.
“Alone?”
Yes. Voluntarily, yet dreadfully alone.
Our conversation turns to our current endeavours—his new courses, my new job. We speak easily of travel and literature as both of us are fond of those topics. Too soon is his boarding-call announced. We’re both traveling to the same destination, but on different flights. I dread the separation to come.
“Well, that’s me.”
“Yeah.”
While our opportunities to speak freely are few, I know that this chance meeting is something I cannot just let pass by. Once back at home, I will have no excuse to accidentally see him again, and knowing myself, I couldn’t muster the courage to purposefully find him.
“You know, I know that there might have been some issues about us going out for a drink before, but now...now it’s different. I’m working now, it’s been a while...”
“Yeah, it has been a little time since you were in my class. It seems like only yesterday—I remember a lot about you, you know.”
I smile nervously and cast my eyes downward as I feel the blush creep into my face.
“Well, I was hoping that, you know, maybe we could, go out for a drink sometime after we both arrive back home?”
There is an excruciating pause as the boarding-call is announced again, and he waits for it to finish before turning back to answer me.
“You know, I’d really like that.”
I feel a rush of air escape me and realize I’m a little lightheaded as I watch him walk towards his gate. Before disappearing down the corridor, he turns to smile at me, that warm, crinkly smile that I’ve clung to over too long a time. I believe I smile dazedly back, and then he’s gone. Gone but with the promise of returning to my life once more.
Back in the airport, I shake my head and snap to attention as the back that I thought was familiar turns around and I see is actually a stranger to me. I would never have been so brave anyway.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?”
The back turns to face me and it takes a moment for his face to crinkle into the sweet smile I can recall in a heartbeat.
“Shouldn’t you be...somewhere?” he replies. He shifts over in his seat to make room for me to sit down next to him. We exchange the routine greetings before he explains that he is returning from a trip home to visit family—he’s returning on a
weekday to get some more work done before his classes resume.
“So what are you doing here?”
I in turn explain that I’ve been away, traveling alone in an attempt to find myself and enjoy what little time I have before officially joining the work force.
“Alone?”
Yes. Voluntarily, yet dreadfully alone.
Our conversation turns to our current endeavours—his new courses, my new job. We speak easily of travel and literature as both of us are fond of those topics. Too soon is his boarding-call announced. We’re both traveling to the same destination, but on different flights. I dread the separation to come.
“Well, that’s me.”
“Yeah.”
While our opportunities to speak freely are few, I know that this chance meeting is something I cannot just let pass by. Once back at home, I will have no excuse to accidentally see him again, and knowing myself, I couldn’t muster the courage to purposefully find him.
“You know, I know that there might have been some issues about us going out for a drink before, but now...now it’s different. I’m working now, it’s been a while...”
“Yeah, it has been a little time since you were in my class. It seems like only yesterday—I remember a lot about you, you know.”
I smile nervously and cast my eyes downward as I feel the blush creep into my face.
“Well, I was hoping that, you know, maybe we could, go out for a drink sometime after we both arrive back home?”
There is an excruciating pause as the boarding-call is announced again, and he waits for it to finish before turning back to answer me.
“You know, I’d really like that.”
I feel a rush of air escape me and realize I’m a little lightheaded as I watch him walk towards his gate. Before disappearing down the corridor, he turns to smile at me, that warm, crinkly smile that I’ve clung to over too long a time. I believe I smile dazedly back, and then he’s gone. Gone but with the promise of returning to my life once more.
Back in the airport, I shake my head and snap to attention as the back that I thought was familiar turns around and I see is actually a stranger to me. I would never have been so brave anyway.
Filling a void
I feel empty. The throbbing ache hurts enough for me to consider a drink. And there's no explanation. All I did was remember.
Memories of a past not so distant. Of friends and laughter, of futures and paths so bright and promising. Pictures of scenes so happy; of couples so in love. Nothing is as it seems on the surface.
A piano serenades my searing solitude from some place beyond the threshold of my confinement. I don't know the song, but it sings to me; a soundtrack to my saddening reverie.
Reminders of late speak and say that life is too short; tomorrow is not a promise. And how to interpret that? Hold on to what you have and keep it dear to you? Or take a leap and strive for the best with the notion that you have nothing to lose? The temptation is to leap--even before looking. Too much thought only confuses the process.
Was the past happy because it was simple? Or is the present complicated because it's passionate? While I've never regretted anything, unexpected mementos can catch me off guard, not knowing how to feel.
I don't want give with a fear of rejection. I don't want to take with the notion of force. I just want to be myself; free-spirited and full of life. I've never been anyone else.
I could wonder and write all night, and I'd never reach a conclusion. Memories of love only battle with reminders of rationale. It's a vicious cycle that I have yet to learn to navigate my way out of this time around.
Memories of a past not so distant. Of friends and laughter, of futures and paths so bright and promising. Pictures of scenes so happy; of couples so in love. Nothing is as it seems on the surface.
A piano serenades my searing solitude from some place beyond the threshold of my confinement. I don't know the song, but it sings to me; a soundtrack to my saddening reverie.
Reminders of late speak and say that life is too short; tomorrow is not a promise. And how to interpret that? Hold on to what you have and keep it dear to you? Or take a leap and strive for the best with the notion that you have nothing to lose? The temptation is to leap--even before looking. Too much thought only confuses the process.
Was the past happy because it was simple? Or is the present complicated because it's passionate? While I've never regretted anything, unexpected mementos can catch me off guard, not knowing how to feel.
I don't want give with a fear of rejection. I don't want to take with the notion of force. I just want to be myself; free-spirited and full of life. I've never been anyone else.
I could wonder and write all night, and I'd never reach a conclusion. Memories of love only battle with reminders of rationale. It's a vicious cycle that I have yet to learn to navigate my way out of this time around.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Quote of the Moment:
"I'm just going to plan it and tell him about it later."
"I wish I had a plan-it-and-tell-him-about-it-later-guy!"
"I wish I had a plan-it-and-tell-him-about-it-later-guy!"
Thursday, July 10, 2008
London in non-photo photos
So much of London (and really, there's SO much here) cannot be summed up in words (there's just too much detail to describe) nor pictures (because they won't let you take pictures of the best stuff). However, if there's one thing I've realized about London and the history of London, it's that they revel in their bloody history. :) I did my best to take pictures of all that I was allowed, but the really awe-inspiring things were off-limits; hence, these are my non-photo photos.
Every tour I've been on has given me the stories of not just the spectacles of the sites, but of the spectres of the sites as well. Beheadings, executions, burnings and burials have been the backbone of the tour materials. I've been in more crypts than I can count, and seen more monuments to the dead than I can believe. I mean, I guess it's cool that London's made peace with their dead, but man have I ever gotten the creeps lately!
Effigies of a sort...I can't remember if they were killed or just passed on, but either way, they're no longer of the living.
Yup, someone's under there...literally right under your feet.
This picture was creepier when there was a lady sitting on the bench having lunch, with her feet practically resting on the effigy/grave below.
And then of course there's their pride in methods of torture...
The "Scavenger's Daughter" in which, well, I think you can figure it out. Not a comfy position.
Also the "Scavenger's Daughter" but this time the unlucky victim kneels down, bends over, and gets pinned down in that crouch.
And of course the one that needs no explanation, "The Rack." Ouch.
But because London's fond of their dead, they pay their respects properly, by building the right kind of venues.
Westminster Abbey
St. Paul's Cathedral
Like Japan, I went a little trigger happy with the camera (well as much as I could). There's still more, both to share and for me to see, but I felt like I was leaving you all hanging...like a true Londoner. hahaha...*groan*
...
subway = Tube/Underground
take-out = take-away
gas = petrol
(there are more, but I can't think of them right now)
The only two words you need to carry on a long-lasting conversation with a Londoner:
Yeah? Roight (not a typo)
Miss y'all!
Every tour I've been on has given me the stories of not just the spectacles of the sites, but of the spectres of the sites as well. Beheadings, executions, burnings and burials have been the backbone of the tour materials. I've been in more crypts than I can count, and seen more monuments to the dead than I can believe. I mean, I guess it's cool that London's made peace with their dead, but man have I ever gotten the creeps lately!
Effigies of a sort...I can't remember if they were killed or just passed on, but either way, they're no longer of the living.
Yup, someone's under there...literally right under your feet.
This picture was creepier when there was a lady sitting on the bench having lunch, with her feet practically resting on the effigy/grave below.And then of course there's their pride in methods of torture...
The "Scavenger's Daughter" in which, well, I think you can figure it out. Not a comfy position.
Also the "Scavenger's Daughter" but this time the unlucky victim kneels down, bends over, and gets pinned down in that crouch. 
And of course the one that needs no explanation, "The Rack." Ouch.But because London's fond of their dead, they pay their respects properly, by building the right kind of venues.
Westminster Abbey
St. Paul's Cathedral
Like Japan, I went a little trigger happy with the camera (well as much as I could). There's still more, both to share and for me to see, but I felt like I was leaving you all hanging...like a true Londoner. hahaha...*groan*
...
subway = Tube/Underground
take-out = take-away
gas = petrol
(there are more, but I can't think of them right now)
The only two words you need to carry on a long-lasting conversation with a Londoner:
Yeah? Roight (not a typo)
Miss y'all!
Oh, the wine...
"I can't believe you won't MARRY me!"
...
"Regardless of whether or not...wait...IRREGARDLESS of whether or not..."
...
"Why won't you marry me?! I can't believe you rejected me!"
"Uh, I think it still says that you're married, even though I rejected you."
"Shit, it does."
...
"Regardless of whether or not...wait...IRREGARDLESS of whether or not..."
...
"Why won't you marry me?! I can't believe you rejected me!"
"Uh, I think it still says that you're married, even though I rejected you."
"Shit, it does."
Monday, July 07, 2008
Greetings from London, England!
You'd think that being across the world, in an entirely new city, I'd have tons to post about. Absolutely! It's just that I've been so completely and utterly exhausted as soon as I'm off my feet, that I haven't had the energy to do so! But I will. In the meantime:
Quotes of Moments in London:
"Are they doing it on the lawn?"
"You want take-away?"
...
Quotes of Moments in London:
"Are they doing it on the lawn?"
"You want take-away?"
...
Friday, July 04, 2008
Quote of the Moment:
When you say love
is a simple chemical reaction
I can't say I agree
'cause my chemical
left me a beautiful disaster
Still love's all I see.
...
Because it's my nature, I see only love after beautiful disasters too. This was supposed to be a much longer post, but being short of time before London, I think that's the most important thing to know.
is a simple chemical reaction
I can't say I agree
'cause my chemical
left me a beautiful disaster
Still love's all I see.
...
Because it's my nature, I see only love after beautiful disasters too. This was supposed to be a much longer post, but being short of time before London, I think that's the most important thing to know.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Did you really have to ask?
"Maybe you just want him to be The One."
...
Craziest thing I've ever heard. Well DUH she wants him to be The One. Don't we ALL want the next one, the current one to be The One? Isn't that the whole point? Well, that is, unless you've already FOUND The One. In that case you're hoping that there is no next one, right?
...tick...tick...tick...
...
Craziest thing I've ever heard. Well DUH she wants him to be The One. Don't we ALL want the next one, the current one to be The One? Isn't that the whole point? Well, that is, unless you've already FOUND The One. In that case you're hoping that there is no next one, right?
...tick...tick...tick...
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
After the break
They haven't spoken to each other in weeks. Not in the personal sense, anyway. They go about their daily routines, exchanging words only when necessary. "I closed the bank account," "the locksmith will be in on Tuesday," but not even formalities pass between them--no thank yous, greetings, goodbyes, excuse mes. It's a matter of opinion, and neither can see any fault in themselves, so their stubborn silence will only continue.
...
"I bought a new clock for us."
"You bought a new clock for you."
"No, it's for the bathroom upstairs."
"That's fine, but it's your clock. There is no us anymore."
...
I dated someone once who, for the first three months of our relationship, I was convinced was ready to break-up with me any day because he would never let me leave anything behind after visiting him at his place. He would check thoroughly to be sure I had all of my belongings: purse, keys, wallet, hair ties, jacket, everything. There was one time that I made it halfway out the door when I realized that I'd left a book, and said so. Off like a shot, he ran off to collect it and hand it to me, despite my insistence that I would just get it the next time I came by. It took a long time before he began to let me feel at home. In the end, it was he who was left behind.
...
"I bought a new clock for us."
"You bought a new clock for you."
"No, it's for the bathroom upstairs."
"That's fine, but it's your clock. There is no us anymore."
...
I dated someone once who, for the first three months of our relationship, I was convinced was ready to break-up with me any day because he would never let me leave anything behind after visiting him at his place. He would check thoroughly to be sure I had all of my belongings: purse, keys, wallet, hair ties, jacket, everything. There was one time that I made it halfway out the door when I realized that I'd left a book, and said so. Off like a shot, he ran off to collect it and hand it to me, despite my insistence that I would just get it the next time I came by. It took a long time before he began to let me feel at home. In the end, it was he who was left behind.
Subway scribbles
June 18, 2008
Not quite sure how I managed it, but somehow when scooting onto the subway today, I found myself on a car filled with only men. Good thing guys have never scared me--it's always been the other way around.
---
Skidooche.
---
Two days before the official start to summer and I'm cold. Was it always this way? Maybe when I was younger I was just ignorant of the weather changes, too busy plowing head-first through every day. If so, maybe ignorance was indeed bliss.
---
Like learning to walk again after an injury, I'm slowly regaining the motions of writing. I was never scared and yet I found myself hesitating. It won't be long before you find me off and writing again at a full gallop, fearlessly striding into the wind that rushes against me.
---
Stopped. I wonder if claustrophobics could handle such an experience.
---
I've changed my mind. I like being needed. I want to be an everything.
I want to hold you and I want to say
That you are all that I need
Oh you, I give my soul to keep
You see me, love me, just the way I am
I said for you, I am a better man
You are the reason
For everything that I do
I'd be lost, so lost without you
--"Better Man," James Morrison
I melted a little, but no one paid me any mind.
---
The Antithesis of Donne
Once upon a time there lived a boy. For his whole life, this boy lived on his own. He took care of himself, taught himself, fed himself, protected himself. And one day, a girl came along. This girl came along and fell in love with this boy and swore she would take care of him, teach him, feed him, and protect him. As wonderfully generous and genuine as this girl was with her promising offer to him, the boy pushed her away. He has spent his whole life all on his own, that he couldn't understand what it was to let someone else in to love him and care for him and support him. It hurt the girl worse than anything to come before, but she saw that he would never be able to trust anyone else to share in his life, so she left, heartbroken, knowing she would never love another as she loved that boy who couldn't let anyone in.
Not quite sure how I managed it, but somehow when scooting onto the subway today, I found myself on a car filled with only men. Good thing guys have never scared me--it's always been the other way around.
---
Skidooche.
---
Two days before the official start to summer and I'm cold. Was it always this way? Maybe when I was younger I was just ignorant of the weather changes, too busy plowing head-first through every day. If so, maybe ignorance was indeed bliss.
---
Like learning to walk again after an injury, I'm slowly regaining the motions of writing. I was never scared and yet I found myself hesitating. It won't be long before you find me off and writing again at a full gallop, fearlessly striding into the wind that rushes against me.
---
Stopped. I wonder if claustrophobics could handle such an experience.
---
I've changed my mind. I like being needed. I want to be an everything.
I want to hold you and I want to say
That you are all that I need
Oh you, I give my soul to keep
You see me, love me, just the way I am
I said for you, I am a better man
You are the reason
For everything that I do
I'd be lost, so lost without you
--"Better Man," James Morrison
I melted a little, but no one paid me any mind.
---
The Antithesis of Donne
Once upon a time there lived a boy. For his whole life, this boy lived on his own. He took care of himself, taught himself, fed himself, protected himself. And one day, a girl came along. This girl came along and fell in love with this boy and swore she would take care of him, teach him, feed him, and protect him. As wonderfully generous and genuine as this girl was with her promising offer to him, the boy pushed her away. He has spent his whole life all on his own, that he couldn't understand what it was to let someone else in to love him and care for him and support him. It hurt the girl worse than anything to come before, but she saw that he would never be able to trust anyone else to share in his life, so she left, heartbroken, knowing she would never love another as she loved that boy who couldn't let anyone in.
Enough for a small army
It just dawned on me tonight: it's not that I don't like to cook, it's that I don't like cooking for one.
Gimme a party, however, and it's ON.
Gimme a party, however, and it's ON.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)