THROW YOURSELF LIKE A SEED
By Miguel de Unamuno

Shake off this sadness, and recover your spirit
sluggish you will never see the wheel of fate
that brushes your heel as it turns going by,
the man who wants to live is the man in whom life is abundant.

Now you are only giving food to that final pain
which is slowly winding you in the nets of death,
but to live is to work, and the only thing which lasts
is the work; start then, turn to the work.

Throw yourself like seed as you walk, and into your own field,
don’t turn your face for that would be to turn it to death,
and do not let the past weigh down your motion.

Leave what’s alive in the furrow, what’s dead in yourself,
for life does not move in the same way as a group of clouds;
from your work you will be able one day to gather yourself.

Every girl has her limits. And this is mine. Bye Curious George.

Another resolution....SAVE MONEY!

3 Reasonable Resolutions Continued

1. Write 1 short story a month.
2. Run at least twice a week.
3. Read at least 1 book a month.
4. Give money to dad & gma so they can save it for themselves.

3 Reasonable Resolutions

I'll get back to you.

"Pauline Attention:
Three Books Please"
-Dad

I'm here. I promise.

It's one thing to know subconsciously that you're not as fortunate as some others, but it's quite another when the government needs you to file goddamn papers and asks you questions that pretty much labels you as a poor motherfucker.

"We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love."

James Kavanaugh, There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves

Once upon a time, I really thought you were my soul mate Gurpreet. Then we both gradually forgot and walked different paths. But when I see your picture, my heart flip-flops like a fish gasping for its last breath.

How morbid. haha

The second month of Occupy Wall Street. It's making history.

My world feels flat.

My words are the sincerest gift I could ever give.

God's blessings:
1. Internship at a book publishing agency with amazing literary agents
2. Current internship at a local newspaper with editors that really care.
-Interviewing Palestinian Novel Peace Prize nominee Izzeldin Abuelaish
-Attended Occupy Brooklyn rally
3. Part-time job with down-to-earth coworkers and kids that humble me.
4. Friends who appreciate life and always make me laugh.
5. Healthy family that loves me, even at times when I don't deserve it.
6. Dominican kid.

Thank you God.

I really want to hear your voice.

Almond butter? Genius idea!

Pauline got her groove back.

"The one claim I shall make for my own sex is that we love longest, when all hope is gone."
-Film's Persuasion (2007)

It feels like I'm trying so hard to talk to you, but the more you don't care, the more I don't either.

There are lovers content with longing.
I'm not one of them.
-Rumi

CarrollBlog 10.22

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

“I live in Tokyo,” he told me, “a kind of civilized world — like New York or Los Angeles or London or Paris. If you want to find a magical situation, magical things, you have to go deep inside yourself. So that is what I do. People say it’s magic realism — but in the depths of my soul, it’s just realism. Not magical. While I’m writing, it’s very natural, very logical, very realistic and reasonable.”
-Haruki Murakami

My dad dreamt that my mom was alive.

For November:
1. Apply for internships.
2. Working part-time.
3. Interning.
4. Writing a novel.

November is going to be a killer. I can't wait.

Before I forget

“Love comes to those who still hope even though they've been disappointed, to those who still believe even though they've been betrayed, to those who still love even though they've been hurt before.”
-Unknown

I don't take being ignored very well.

And now a couple having sex while skydiving... Unbelievable.

The news is getting outrageous: US House passes bill to ban federal funds for health care services providing abortions; former death-row inmate is released and married to a woman 10 years older, and a self-proclaimed "super hero" gets arrested.

Disappointments

I'm inspired by one of my friends. I've been giving her tips on how to handle an interview for a job that I had gone through earlier this year, though I wasn't accepted.

I was bitter when I was rejected and used it as an an excuse not to apply to other places, when I should have known better. At time I was angry because I was sure that I was qualified and ready to take on this challenging occupation. It was a disappointment that I've let go, but never understood what the whole point was. Why did I go through this tedious process to get rejected?

But as I was talking to my friend, she told me that if she didn't get the job, it's fine because God has plans for her. She believes things happen for a reason, and I admire her for it. I admire her for her faith and her positive personality; her smiles brighten the room. It seems nothing gets her down even though I know she's gone through trying times.

I realized in that moment that this is why. I'm glad I went through the tedious interview process, even if I didn't get the job because I can offer advice to someone who does deserve the job, far more than I do. Someone I know will wholeheartedly kick-ass.

So disappointments, they may close doors, but maybe those doors weren't right for me. Perhaps it's a way for God to steer me to the opened doors that I am right for, doors that I want to enter and not because they're easy.

A good way to try to get fit is to get naked and really look at yourself in the mirror.

If that doesn't work, then jiggle.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Emily Dickinson

Sometimes when I'm reading, I feel this fluttering thing within me grow. I'm not sure how to describe it, perhaps it's my dissatisfaction with reality. Fleeting thoughts and images that are usually hidden in the recesses of my mind become suddenly apparent and solid.

I was reading about the strict enforcement of an immigration law in Alabama (HB56). Police officers can ask for anyone's legal status if they're suspects of crimes and schools can ask students about their origin of birth.

I'm pretty on the fence about immigration laws. I understand that it's unfair because legal citizens pay taxes, and have waited and gone through the whole application process, but in terms of human rights, it's despairing to read about all these immigrants who are deported back to their country.

If my family or I were illegal immigrants, I would hope with every ounce of my being that the government would take pity and grant me a chance to stay in America.

http://www.cnn.com/2011/10/06/opinion/granderson-palin-presidency/index.html

Food For Thought

Someone told me today that I'm just a big girl, "emphasis on girl". When I asked him how a girl becomes a woman, he said when she stops liking boys.

At first, I was offended, but I knew that he was right. I am just a girl. I haven't matured fully yet; I still have a lot to learn, especially in how to control my emotions. Maybe, I purposely like immature boys because I know I'm not ready to settle down yet, another one of many ways I sabotage myself.

CarrollBlog 9.29

We open doors,
close doors,
pass through doors,
and reach at the end of our only journey
no city,
no harbour-
the train derails,
the ship sinks
the plane crashes.
The map is drawn on ice.
But if I could
begin this journey all over again,
I would.

Nazim Hikmet

Stay Positive

Fresh apple cider and cheddar jalapeno cheetos. The end of a good day.

CarrollBlog 9.30

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

by Rosemarie Urquico

Something I need to continue to work on is my patience. I was never a patient person, whenever I wanted something, I'd want it immediately, but obviously that isn't how life works.

When I work with children, my patience is higher than it normally is (a surprise even to me). Of course, there are times where I feel like I have had enough, but I always try to reign in my sharp remarks because when I was little, I made plenty of mistakes that I didn't mean to do. So when I try to reprimand students now, I try to show them that I care about them and not simply just scold them.

I try to talk softer, telling them that they know better and that I don't anyone to get hurt. I tell them that they're good and that I know they mean well. And I think it's important to say that, to tell them that I know they're good kids because it shows I have faith in them. If you don't have faith in them, how will they have faith in themselves? They will take the role you readily set for them.

Yesterday, I was supervising older elementary school students and because I'm not normally around them, I felt out of place. There were new social issues that I was not used to handling and needed far more attention than I expected. Even though, they were older, they seemed more fragile than the younger kids because they know exactly what's happening in the world, whether it's on a social or mental level. I was surprised by how much angst they had, crying every half hour, complaining about everything but still managing to scream and run around as though they inhaled chocolate in every meal.

But when I spoke to them individually, they listened, really listened. When I spoke logically and meaningfully, they soaked in every word I said and afterward would try not to repeat the offense. I could see the remorse and guilt on their faces; they really do want to behave.

I don't know why, but it really made me proud of these kids that I've never met. I'm truly in awe by them. On the surface, any adult could become easily frustrated with their antics, but as I spent time with them, I could clearly see their qualities. They may not be honest all the time, but their facial expressions and actions don't lie. When they hurt someone's feeling, they try their best to apologize and comfort them. They have good intentions.

With that said, I need to try to be more patient with my 2nd graders and wait for their real characters to shine through. Instead of just thinking of them as kids, I need to view them as individuals that are slowly transforming into young adults.

Half of week 1 and I feel dead.

-------------------------------------
I definitely did gain weight. More salad and jogging for me. Sighs.

Local journalist by day and after school teacher assistant by night. Sexy.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I feel like there's nothing to look forward to, which I know logically isn't true. I know that the future holds a lot of happiness and achievement, but there's been so little progress with my career (and other stupid things) that I feel stuck and frustrated.

Gosh, I need to calm the fuck down and stop acting like a child. I wish I were more like my father, who says there's no point in worrying because whatever will come, will come regardless.

How much time do I need to get over you?

I like it in the dark; I can't tell where my body starts and where your body ends. I'm moving, caressing your face and snaking my leg with yours until I feel the full outline of your torso. I wish I could press into it and breathe you in. I know I could be happy in your arms.

This shall pass

I knew it was a stupid idea to return to Bing; the past has a tendency to rear its ugly head.

I returned to Bing feeling courageous, but I return home feeling like an unsteady failure.

Dramatic of me to say, but I would like to jump off a precipice.

On the upside, I passed my road test yesterday! Imagine, me driving... Watch out world!

CarrollBlog 9.13

This is about all the bad days in the world. I used to have some little bad days, and I kept them in a little box. And one day, I threw them out into the yard. “Oh, it’s just a couple little innocent bad days.” Well, we had a big rain. I don’t know what it was growing in but I think we used to put eggshells out there and coffee grounds, too. Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me. Choke those little bad days. Choke ‘em down to nothin’. They’re your days. Choke ‘em!”

Tom Waits

I still crack up when I watch this

God is good all the time.

It may not seem like it sometimes, but we are exactly where we need to be.

Dear God,

You are incredible.

Love,
Pauline

After reading to homeless children

In order to persevere:

The most destructive habit.............................Worry

The greatest Joy.......................................Giving
The greatest loss........................Loss of self-respect

The most satisfying work.......................Helping others
The ugliest personality trait.....................Selfishness
The most endangered species.................Dedicated leaders

Our greatest natural resource.......................Our youth
The greatest "shot in the arm"..................Encouragement
The greatest problem to overcome.........................Fear

The most effective sleeping pill................Peace of mind
The most crippling failure disease....................Excuses
The most powerful force in life..........................Love

The most dangerous pariah..........................A gossiper
The world's most incredible computer................The brain
The worst thing to be without........... Hope

The deadliest weapon...............................The tongue
The two most power-filled words......................."I Can"
The greatest asset......................................Faith

The most worthless emotion..........................Self-pity
The most beautiful attire..............................SMILE!
The most prized possession......................... Integrity

The most powerful channel of communication.............Prayer
The most contagious spirit.........................Enthusiasm

When things seem too good to be true...it usually is.

Every time I hear Te Siento, I feel a bubbling mix of sadness and excitement. Strange.

I wish I could accept every job offer. I wouldn't mind working multiple jobs, but then I wouldn't have time to eat or shower. Ugh.

Why is it raining? Stop it!

CarrollBlog 8.27

“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.”

Louis de Bernières

Aw shucks. Look at me networking.

Where can I get this digimon? I'm in love with angels.

I'm rewatching Digimon, Season 1. Gosh, I love this show.

My subconscious creates dreams that are a bit torturous. Logically, I know we're better this way.

I'm on track and it's relieving. But for some reason, I have a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

Am I really rejecting job offers now? Am I crazy?

Some chances come once in a lifetime. Then there are the chances that will repeatedly show itself, but you never take it the first time around, and it's never the same after.

"Because," he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you — especially when you are near to me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land, come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapped; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly."

Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal — as we are!
-Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

This is going to sound ludicrous, but I was telling my friends that starting September, I want to be romantically celibate for a year. I know that life doesn't work like that. I understand, considering my past history, why my friends are in complete disbelief. However, if I can put my mind to it, why can't I do it? I want to be able to concentrate on my career, on my family, on my friends, on myself, and most importantly, I want to look for God more.

I need to mature in my faith. I don't want boys as distractions anymore, especially when they've all been disappointments. If a guy can push me to the side and say he wants time for himself because he wants to prioritize his shit, why can't I? I'm not waiting around for my prince charming. I don't need a prince charming. I want to be prince charming for fuck's sake, in everything except the gender. I don't need anyone to save me.


Yeah, this video may completely contradict what I just stated, but I think Travie and this video are hilarious. Besides, this video should be seen by a certain someone anyhow.

I want a guy who's romantic. The one who isn't afraid to jump.

Talking to friends from my past always puts things into perspective. They motivate me to want to achieve more and enjoy life.

To Justine and Gurpreet, I hope you guys have amazing adventures in China and India.

No more chances.

Fuck you fate. I will get what I want.

Current obsessions:
Yoga, books, Suits, Gossip Girl (guilty pleasure), applications, The New Yorker, and New York Cares

Usa: If he'd be a good bf then...why not put in the effort? I just feel like if you do want him that badly...then why the fuck not?
Me: Because he doesn't want me.
Usa: He's retarded.

I know.

Maybe romance doesn't exist. Maybe it's only a figment of the imagination.

I signed up for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). It starts on the first day of November and ends on the last day of the month. I have to write 50,000 words. Oh crap.

Having a planner is nifty.

I wonder how many people viewed my resume and laughed.

CarrollBlog 8.2

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice —
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver

Officially a sellout. But I'd rather be a sellout and find a job.

I'm debating on whether I should register for a separate blog and Twitter account for professional reasons. It seems that in the professional world, if I can provide links that show how committed, intelligent, and responsible I am, it can give me an advantage. However, I'm not the kind of person to sign up for multiple accounts and have the patience to update each one. I'd end up ignoring most of them except the one. Do I really want to revolve my life around professional websites that I know is only tailored towards recruiters?

I am a big fool.

My aunt left for Houston a few hours ago. As I watched her stand on the line for security check, I became overwhelmed with this feeling of being left alone. Even though I know she'll return, I wonder for how long. I know one day she has to return to her immediate family permanently. She can't stay with my dad and I forever. And now that I'm taking over her chores, it reminds me how much I take her for granted.

I need to grow up and handle my shit.

dándole todo tu corazón

PSHAW

Please just bear with me for today

Can you give me your chest for a couple of minutes? So I can lay my head on it, take in your smell, and forget everything else.

Forget that I have responsibilities and forget that you still aren't mine.

Tomorrow begins August doomsdays.

I'm going to have to play housewife, learn how to drive, and find a job. Okay, it's time to get down and dirty.

I don't want to return to Bingoland, even for a night. It's not worth it anymore; I just don't care.

Vegas, Grand Canyon, NoCal and SoCal...meet me there!

"Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."
"Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

"There are just some kind of men who - who're so busy worrying about the next world they've never learned to live in this one, and you can look down the street and see the results."

"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."

"I think I'll be a clown when I get grown," said Dill. "Yes, sir, a clown.... There ain't one thing in this world I can do about folks except laugh, so I'm gonna join the circus and laugh my head off." "You got it backwards, Dill," said Jem. "Clowns are sad, it's folks that laugh at them." "Well, I'm gonna be a new kind of clown. I'm gonna stand in the middle of the ring and laugh at the folks."

To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Thank you God for all these people who are trying to help me find a job. I'm incredibly blessed.

Failure should be our teacher, not our undertaker. Failure is delay, not defeat. It is a temporary detour, not a dead end. Failure is something we can avoid only by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.
-- Denis Waitley

Be thankful for what you have; you'll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never, ever have enough.
-- Oprah Winfrey

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
-- Mark Twain

Your time is limited, don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma, which is living the result of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinion drown your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, they somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
-- Steve Jobs

"The way you’d roll your sleeve up to hold my hand."

Memo for the future: Don't feel sorry for yourself. Work your hardest and be grateful for what you have.

If life hits you, fight back.

I wish I was part of the Wayans family. Damn.

Current obsessions:

Dead Nation


Suits, the show

I'm impatient; therefore, I need life to speed up a little bit. Though, school speed was too much. Maybe 65-70 mph wouldn't be that bad.

Priorities
1. Friends & Family
2. Career
3. Whatever is left

Post-graduation

I'm still at the library 80% of the time. That's dedication baby!

I wonder if we write the story or if the story writes us

This Friday is when Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows Part II is finally released in theaters. I've always had a special spot for HP because of the similar age and the genius imagination that it exhibits, but there have been times where I would forget how much I love Harry Potter. I forget how many days I spent reading or watching it. I forget how many hours I cried over the death of Sirius, Hedwig, Lupin, and Dumbledore, and I forget how exhilarated I am when the characters are victorious in their battles.

When I return to these moments, I realize how much I will miss HP. I reread Deathly Hallows again after Part I, its movie counterpart, and realized how amazing the plot and details are. I originally hated the epilogue, but perhaps because I've grown older and have a couple of more experiences under my belt, it felt satisfying and fulfilling instead of cheap and rushed. And I'm sure J.K. Rowling had a long time to think about how to finish her story properly, so who am I to judge that it wasn't adequate at the age of 18 (when high school ended)?

I'm grateful for J.K. Rowling, who inspires thousands to dream. Even if I may never become as famous as a writer as Rowling, at least I know it's possible that a female who actually writes well can become an accomplished writer.

I'M MOVING. I'M GOING SOMEWHERE. I CAN'T STAY HERE. I CAN'T.

Here we go!

At least I have our friendship.

CarrollBlog 7.6

We are wrapped around each other
in the back of my father’s car parked
in the empty lot of the high school
of our failures, sweat on her neck
like oil. The next morning I would leave
for the war and I thought I had something
coming for that, I thought to myself
that I would not die never having
been inside her body. I lifted
her skirt above her waist like an umbrella
blown inside out by the storm. I pulled
her cotton panties up as high
as she could stand. I was on fire. Heaven
was in sight. We were drowning
on our tongues and I tried
to tear my pants off when she stopped
so suddenly we were surrounded
only by my shuddering
and by the school bells
grinding in the empty halls.
She reached to find something,
a silver crucifix on a silver chain,
the tiny savior’s head
hanging, and stakes through his hands and his feet.
She put it around my neck and held me
so long my heart’s black wings were calmed.
We are not always right
about what we think will save us.
I thought that dragging the angel down that night
would save me, but I carried the crucifix in my pocket
and rubbed it on my face and lips
nights the rockets roared in.
People die sometimes so near you,
you feel them struggling to cross over,
the deep untangling, of one body from another.

Bruce Weigl

Is it possible to feel like you hit rock bottom, but still feel like you're the shit?

How much are you willing to work for it? How much are you willing to sacrifice?

Je ne sais quoi, "I don't know what." "That something special", an elusive quality that you can't put your finger on.

Life by Henry Van Dyke

Let me but live my life from year to year,
With forward face and unreluctant soul;
Not hurrying to, nor turning from the goal;
Not mourning for the things that disappear
In the dim past, nor holding back in fear
From what the future veils; but with a whole
And happy heart, that pays its toll
To Youth and Age, and travels on with cheer.

So let the way wind up the hill or down,
O'er rough or smooth, the journey will be joy:
Still seeking what I sought when but a boy,
New friendship, high adventure, and a crown,
My heart will keep the courage of the quest,
And hope the road's last turn will be the best.

Life by Charlotte Bronte

LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall ?

Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly !

What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away ?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway ?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair !

What if you slept ?

And what if,
In your sleep
You dreamed ?

And what if,
In your dream,
You went to heaven
And there plucked
A strange and
Beautiful flower ?

And what if,
When you awoke,
You had the flower in your hand ?

Ah, what then?

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Protect yourself so that nobody overrides you, overrules you, or steps on you. Just say, "Just a minute. I'm worth everything, dear."
-Maya Angelou

MEN
When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pauses,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.

One day they hold you in the
Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
They tighten up. Just a little. The
First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
Soft into your defenselessness. A little
More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
Smile that slides around the fear. When the
Air disappears,
Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
It is your juice
That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.

Then the window draws full upon
Your mind. There, just beyond
The sway of curtains, men walk.
Knowing something.
Going someplace.
But this time, I will simply
Stand and watch.

Maybe.

-Maya Angelou

I suck at communication

I know I need to hear the truth, but every time I hear it, I'm a little crushed. But why should I be? I'm such a stubborn fuck.

Cousin: Do you really know what you want?
Me: No. I don't know what I want.

Facebook is the devil.

Wouldn't it be funny if I taught abroad in Dominican Republic?...No?

"...We both love bacon and country music, what more could you possibly want?"

What more could he want? It was an incredibly stupid question and when he failed to answer, I was reminded of just how lucky I truly am. Movie characters might chase each other through the fog or race down the stairs of burning buildings, but that's for beginners. Real love amounts to withholding the truth, even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings. I wanted to say something to this effect, but my hand puppets were back home in their drawer. Instead, I pulled my chair a few inches closer, and we sat silently at our little table on the square, looking for all the world like two people in love.

-Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris

"I'll chain its ass down if I have to, but ain't no baby of mine going to forsake the womb."

Patrice: It's like a crime scene in my pants.

Emma: I can't get laid?
Shira: No. Tonight is about me, Emma. I'm feeling hot. I'm feeling good. I'm wearing bikini bottoms because my other underwear is dirty. Alright, we're hot. You feel hot?
Emma: [shrugs] No one threw up on me today.
Shira: We're sluts, Emma. We're dirty, dirty sluts!
Emma: Okay.
Shira: Remember, we're sluts!

Emma: Ring ring! It's the pumpkin patch. They want their pumpkins back!
Lisa: We're not pumpkins!
Joy: We're ladies!
Emma: But you're so orange!
[Adam tries carrying Emma inside]
Emma: Hey! Someone call Charlie Brown! We found the Great Pumpkin!

Adam: You're crazy. I felt like Flava-Flav.
Emma: I can't believe you chose those girls.
Adam: You jealous?
Emma: Don't do that. Don't just disappear like that on me.
Adam: You told me to.
Emma: You shouldn't listen to me.
Adam: Alright, I won't.

No Strings Attached--I admire Natalie Portman

It's time to conquer my fears

Daddy buying me Sicilian pizza? Win!

Must be done (fo'rizzles)
-Purchase Chicago Manual
-Buy planner
-Go to free dance lessons
-Learn to drive idiot =(
-Get a job (!!!!!...!)

Adele, you are beautiful.

A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. 'Hear that?' you say: That's dynamite, baby.

-Jack Handy

"Falling in love with you was like being attacked by a shark. I didn’t know if I was supposed to stay still or swim away or punch you in the nose."

"You are woven into the fabric of my life like a zigzagging, wrong-colored thread. It ruins the whole pattern and it’s all I can see. But pulling it out would eff up the whole thing."

"I said I didn’t want to talk to you again. That was a test! You were supposed to call me until I caved."

dearoldlove.com

I should do more productive things.

CarrollBlog 1.18

Sometimes I'll be walking along and seeing something, instinctively think Gee, I wish X were here to see that. Or I wish X were here so we could see it together and talk about it afterwards. X can be a person I see every day and am intimate with, or someone I haven't seen in years and have no idea where they are or what they're doing now. But this thing is so THEM that more than anyone else, I want to share it with that specific person. More interesting still though is sometimes X is a person I haven't seen in a long time because I detest them. Yet my first instinctive reaction after seeing whatever is I wish X were here to see that.

Seclusion

Dream:
I was on a fast-moving boat that was traveling down rivers with chaotic water. We were trying to find something in a swamp in New Orleans. We were completely surrounded by nature.

Dream:
Last night I dreamt I was in this strange dimly-lit room. All my dreams have this dark tendency that sounds frightening, but perhaps because the dream is mine, I don't find it scary in the least. It was a long drawn out dream with lots of magic and strange characters. But one specific dream, I remember there were terrible people outside the large glass windows of the room and someone was lighting seven white candles to cast a spell. I could tell the spell had worked because once the candles were lit, these sparkling white lights surrounded them.

I also dreamt I was Lindsay Lohan and I guess in her dream (dream within a dream) she imagined this guy she really liked contacted her back. So I/she was talking in public with this interviewer, and the male she liked was standing nearby. She commented that she'll see him soon and he looked puzzled. I felt in her/my gut how disappointed and foolish she felt. I guess this dream was about you soup sipper.

Lily leaves for Boston tomorrow. I'll miss her company, but I think I'm ready to seclude myself from the world.

I went to a baby shower on my mom's side, and, of course, my dad and I arrived two hours late; I ended up sitting with uncles that I haven't seen in years.

I felt awkward at first because I didn't know how to act. I forget how to be social sometimes, but they were so friendly and humorous, it felt nice to bask in everyone's presence. For once, everyone was there (except one important cousin of mine) and I could feel all the laughter and love washing away the remnants of this terrible day.

It's been a long time since I held a baby in my arms; his weight caught me off guard. But when I held the baby boy, I felt, lamely put, complete. In the future, I look forward to getting married to that guy (whoever it may be) and having babies. After spending time with my uncles, they give me hope that it's possible to be happily married with kids.

My favorite part of the night was when my uncle held his baby in his arms. No one was paying attention to them, but I saw him touch his little feet and gently rub his head. His eyes softened and anyone who looked at him could tell how much he loved that baby.

Thank you God for these precious moments that I have with my family, my dad, and close friends. I know I can be self-centered and ignorant, but thank you for always guiding me back to what's truly important in life.

Dear Dinosaur,

I'm sorry we ended like this. I'm sorry I can't be okay and play nice. Even though it's for the best, I'm still sad to see you really go.

Today is for my mother, who gave birth to me and died protecting me.

"You must pray like everything depends on God, but work like everything depends on you."

baby steps

Reading Goodreads comments and quotes

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
— Marilyn Monroe

Waiting for it to rain.

I think I might know how it feels for someone to get a divorce. I obviously haven't been in that situation yet, nowhere close; however, I think on a minuscule level, I can sympathize. It must feel like a sinking boat that you wish you knew how to save.

The closer I draw you, the farther away you run. If I let you go, will you come to me?

CarrollBlog 06.15

"Be not bold, be fucking BOLD. Every time you meet someone, make a fucking impression. Make them think you're the hottest shit in the world. Make them think they're gonna lose their job if they don't give you one. Look 'em in the eye, and never look away. Be confident and calm, be fucking bold."

James Frey, MY FRIEND LEONARD

This is what I should have said to you

You're lonely. Don't bother to deny it. I know after a night of drinking and laughter, chasing after skirts, you return to the cool dimness of your room and close your eyes to sleep. You can't sleep though for two reasons: you didn't drink enough and you feel the loneliness circling in on you, surrounded by four white walls. But you don't really realize that it's loneliness, you think that it's something else. You think maybe it's because that girl at the bar with the cute pink dress was flirting back, making you smile, or maybe you finally realize how much work you have to get done tomorrow when you wake up.

But no, it's that quiet solitude that you enjoy so much, that solitude that you use to protect yourself from letting others find out who you truly are. You use it to keep others out so that when they leave you or when you leave them, you can lie to yourself and say you didn't care anyways. It's that quiet solitude that attempts to choke you and no matter how many girls you fuck, you won't be happy. You blame everything, that stupid ex that was talking to other guys or your mom who spoils you, making you think you deserve every goddamn thing that comes your way. And no matter what you do, unhappiness dogs your every step.

This is what I should have said to you, not because I wish this upon you but because I know, I know you'll always be lonely, clutching your heart away with both your hands, and I know you'll be unhappy, even if you have the perfect girl and the perfect life. It's in your desecrated blood.

my dreams are going berserk

Dream: Whirlpool, my grandmother, evil chariot, jumping off rock edge, too deep, dive to the death, other evil realm, pool disappears, scientists, evil unicorn appears, after me, run, hide, laundry room, going to die for sure.

Dream: Can't adopt because I'm adopted. My parents (that aren't my parents) didn't recognize me.

Dream: Spirits, fans turning on and off, holy water, time travel, ghost busters

Dream: Flying saucers

this is why I shouldn't skip praying

Dream:
A lady called me and I knew she was looking for me, but all she spoke was Spanish. She spoke so fast, I couldn't understand--not that I understand Spanish. I kept asking her habla ingles? Then all I remember is being in the house next to my old house in Brooklyn. God was mad at my family (my uncle) or at me, so he sent something celestial, but almost demonic, to punish whoever was in my old house. Throughout the entire dream, we were just anticipating it. It was completely silent, except for our rustling. I felt half-comforted that I was wearing my cross, but that didn't mean anything. Eventually, I forgot I had my cross and all this jewelry appeared. Rubies and sapphires on rings and necklaces. This man and I were rushing through them, trying to put on as many gaudy pieces as possible, deluding ourselves into thinking we can protect ourselves with it. Though I hate gaudy expensive jewelry to begin with.

Then I realized, when it was almost time, that I am a fool. I started to take off all the jewelry. Logically, God was going to punish me more if I had on all this stupid jewelry, that I just should take his punishment if whatever he sent was coming for us too. Then when the creature God sent finally came, all I heard were loud noises outside the house. I can't even describe what kind of noises they were, but they were retched and didn't exist in any scope of human life. I can only correlate some sounds to bones snapping and slaughter.

I was trying to figure out how frightening this creature was. I never saw it, but I could feel how unnatural and powerful it was. The closest thing I can imagine to it is Bahamut.

I finally manage to get off my ass and accompany my aunt to the hospital to check her status for medicare. My heart hurts to see how neglected people who don't speak English are. So many who are in need of health insurance have such a difficult time obtaining it. I wish I paid better attention to my Chinese upbringing and spoke my language fluently so that at the very least I could translate for Chinese folk.

I made a promise to God yesterday. I said that if I ever make it, if I ever make enough money and achieve my dream, I will go out of my way to help people. I promised God that if I had the opportunity that I won't slack anymore, that I'll work to the bone and make it.

Stop the slackin'

I learned something from my phone interview today...get up on the news.

I need to work on myself.

Do you think that love is that powerful?

Officially applied to two entry-level jobs and three internships.

At least I know I'm trying here.

I don't know how people do it. How do people pretend like they don't care when they obviously do?

I don't know how to not follow my heart.

"Love is lived in the now. Buy the dress now. Write the note now."

He stares at her while she's sleeping and touches the crease between her eyebrows. She wakes up and he asks, What is so harsh in your dream? She responds, Because you’re in my dreams. Are you not happy with me even in your dreams?, he asks. She says, Even so, come. Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow...

Secret Garden

I should just become a writer for young adults; I can write all sappy-like.

Cannot wait to have library dates with Lily and read trashy books. =)

I love the smell of rain.

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."
-Lewis Carroll

Patience is not one of my qualities.

Why can't you just let me like you the way you deserve to be liked?

I don't know how to make it right between us.

So this is what I told Mao: In lieu of loving the world twice as hard, I care, in the end, about expressing my obdurate singularity at any cost. I love this hard and unyielding part of myself more than any other reward the world has to offer a newly brightened and ingratiating demeanor, and I will bear any costs associated with it.
Wesley Yang (NY Mag)

Dream:
I was at a bar in Binghamton, I think, and there was a guy I was with most of the time. He seemed significant, but I can't recall who he is. I see Gurpreet there and he's drunk. He kisses a guy and everyone is surprised. I leave with the guy I'm with and I want to stay with him, but then I see Gurpreet outside too and he's alone.

I decide to choose Gurpreet and ditch the other guy, but I feel guilty because I wanted to stay with whoever it was. He disappears and I'm alone with Gurpreet and we're going on a search for his sister? We find his mom, she starts driving and he unsteadily gets into his car. I see him driving in the wrong lane and then on the right lane. I realized I should get into the car with him. When he sees me get into the car, he's about to get out, but I say I don't know how to drive, so he stays. It's storming outside. There are dark clouds cast overhead and the wind is strong. I see his mom crash his car into a marsh near us.

Live with no regrets.

for all aspects of my life

Let me summarize my feelings toward Asian values: Fuck filial piety. Fuck grade-grubbing. Fuck Ivy League mania. Fuck deference to authority. Fuck humility and hard work. Fuck harmonious relations. Fuck sacrificing for the future. Fuck earnest, striving middle-class servility.
-Wesley Yang (NY Mag)

Fe: You're the girl guys wanna marry, not screw around with...and if they're not at that point in their life, they don't wanna mess with you...so they leave. Because then they fall and can't live up to the "expectations" that they think you deserve.

Makes sense. Unfortunately.

Stop thinking, I'm right here.

Dream:
I was killing zombies by decapitating them with a giant sharp-toothed comb.

I tried. At least now I can sleep knowing that I did.

I was dreaming about you, but I can't remember.

For some reason, I'm uneasy and ridiculously cranky. I don't know how to stop myself from being aggravated.

Fuck making the sangria. I'll just buy it premade. Shiet.

Dream:
Dino comes knocking on my door, drunk per usual, and he could care less about my presence or he's letting me know that he's not interested anymore.

So why the fuck are you knocking on my door? Why the fuck am I wasting any dream time on you!

Dream:

I was texting Day, telling her about what happened between me and monkey. Even in my dream, I tensed up to keep from getting upset.

Best Party Sangria Recipe

This Sangria recipe is perfect for big summer parties - always a favorite, you may consider doubling the recipe.

Ingredients:

• 1 Bottle of red wine (Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Rioja, Zinfandel, Shiraz)
• 1 Lemon cut into wedges
• 1 Orange cut into wedges
• 1 Lime cut into wedges
• 2 Tbsp sugar
• Splash of orange juice or lemonade
• 2 Shots of gin or triple sec (optional)
• 1 Cup of raspberries or strawberries (may use thawed or frozen)
• 1 Small can of diced pineapples (with juice)
• 4 Cups ginger ale

Preparation:

Pour wine into a large pitcher and squeeze the juice wedges from the lemon, orange and lime into the wine. Toss in the fruit wedges (leaving out seeds if possible) and pineapple then add sugar, orange juice and gin. Chill overnight. Add ginger ale, berries and ice just before serving. If you'd like to serve right away, use chilled red wine and serve over lots of ice. However, remember that the best Sangrias are chilled around 24 hours in the frig. - allowing the flavors to really marinate into each other.

Chyeah, I'm going to drink myself into a stupor.

Joel: My God, there's people coming out of your butt.

Clementine: I wish you'd stayed
Joel: I wish I'd stayed, too. NOW I wish I'd stayed. I wish I'd done a lot of things. I wish I'd... I wish I'd stayed... I do.

Mary: Adults are, like, this mess of sadness and phobias.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

I miss you terribly and I can't bear to even tell you.

Another one bites the dust, but it doesn't suck any less.

Dilly-dally-do.

Dream:
Everyone was a zombie outside. My family and I stayed inside, but there must have been others because there was electricity. The food was starting to go bad though.

Next scene, I somehow make it to the supermarket and have to think quickly on what I want. I was going to get food, but instead realized that it was more appropriate to get batteries.

I wonder how much of this is from zombie class. It's strange, sometimes when I wake up from my dreams, it's so realistic that I feel like this world is a dream.

Leon Bonnet, Roman girl at a fountain

Sometimes when we're kissing, I feel out of place, like I'm not really there, but then you part your lips and speak and your voice jars me back to reality and to you.

I'm acting foolish I know, but can you blame me?

This song will remind me of you from now on.

My uncle got buzzed tonight. And apparently when he drinks, he gets more outspoken than usual (considering his quiet and passive demeanor). He asked me what I would do if grandma died and auntie moved to Texas. What would I do if I was left alone with my dad? How would I take care of us? I joked and said I could handle it; I'd buy him McD's everyday. He retorted that I need to depend on myself and not on anyone else. That my dad is getting old. Of course, my dad and I laughed it off, but at the back of our heads, we're both wondering: What would I do if I was left alone to take care of my dad?

I don't know. And that thought scares me.

I'm restless.

YAYYAYYYY UNEMPLOYMENT!!

My dad's store officially closed today. What does this entail? That both of us are unemployed.

In a way, we both graduated. His took 7 years, mine took 4. And now, we're uncertain as to what we should do, how we're going to make any kind of moola. It's a huge transition for him. People kept asking him today what was going on and he kept lying, saying he's changing just the layout. Even though, he didn't say anything and smiled the whole time, I can tell there's a sort of sadness in saying goodbye to this store. He made a lot of acquaintances with this store and lived a lot of interesting stories.

Yet, I'm relieved that he can sleep more and have more time to relax. I'm relieved that I can see him now, even though I'm sure his nagging will make me want to kill him. I'm relieved to have that stupid store he slaved over for barely any profit go and that at least now, I can know that he's safe from anymore physical threats.

I want my dad to enjoy the rest of his life, but to do that I have to step it up and be financially stable.

Crap.

okay okay okay

Goals for Summer
1. Learn how to drive
2. Go to gyno
3. Go to dentist
4. Get a job
5. Write 3 short stories
6. Read 6 books
7. Travel
8. GET A FUCKING JOB!
9. Get in shape.

I just deleted the weather forecast for Binghamton from my tabs.

So what now?

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”
-C.S.Lewis

I will miss you terribly. Don't forget me too easily.

I am ridiculously blessed to have everyone in my life.

I need to stop drinking; I'm pretty fucking brain dead.

And so God, thank you

I was really confused about a lot of things this year. I didn't understand why I had so much bad luck and why everything was veering off course. I kept telling myself that it's going to make me stronger and that it's an experience, but I was never sure if it was going to get better.

Now at the end, I feel like everything makes sense; things are clicking into place. I'm really grateful to God that you're in my life because it seems like you were exactly what I was looking for. I'm lucky that I end my year with you.

If I have to bite my tongue off to keep from showing you how sad I will be when I say goodbye to you, monkey, then I will.

Writing my goodbye letters.

Now I find myself at a loss

I need a night to unscramble my thoughts and get back into the game.

Yesterday was my last day of official classes. As my English professor was talking, I felt regret. I regret that I didn't put my all into it, that I didn't take in all the words and read all the stories. I regret that I couldn't fulfill my potential in that class when he was amazing and the material was thought-provoking.

My first instinct is to run.

Oh boy. I feel inspired to write now.

My hands are sweaty and my heart might be pulsing a little faster than norm. Shit.

Anxiety is killing me. My stomach burns. Or maybe that's the coffee.

Home Alone At Last

I need a moment to collect my thoughts.

I'm graduating in two weeks and each day that passes, I feel less prepared for it.

Pauline, just walk away and let go already. Nothing will come of holding onto nothing.

I need to step away from Binghamton. It's just trouble.

I need a huge reality check.

My thoughts are my own worst enemy; they delude me into thinking things that aren't possible or likely.

But I never told you what I should have said. No, I never told you, I just held it in

Dream:
Frito Lay was sitting next to me and I was burning up. It felt like I was getting a fever, but you were rubbing circles right on the spot between my breasts and back. I must have jerked or moved when you were doing it because you turned to me and said in that voice of yours, "You're really sensitive". Your fingers were cool and soft, so soft. They calmed me down and took some of the burn away. You steadied me, but we didn't talk. We didn't need to. You watched TV and I basked in your presence, and felt safe and protected.

I will miss you a lot after I graduate.

On another note:

CarrollBlog 4.28

There is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else; they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

Chuck Klosterman

Being back in Bing is like being back in an oven that's temperature is rising. I feel the stress, the tension, the excitement, and the stupidity that's taking and about to take place.

Being here makes me think stupid things.

Easter is Beautiful

Warren Barfield
Love Is Not A Fight

Love is not a place
To come and go as we please
It's a house we enter in
Then commit to never leave

So lock the door behind you
Throw away the key
We'll work it out together
Let it bring us to our knees

Chorus:
Love is a shelter in a raging storm
Love is peace in the middle of a war
And if we try to leave, may God send angels to guard the door
No, love is not a fight but it's something worth fighting for

To some, love is a word
That they can fall into
But when they're falling out
Keeping that word is hard to do

There's a fragile calm right before and on Easter that sort of lulls me to sleep. I feel relax and safe. I needed this.

I'm hurting more than I expected. I'm taking longer to regain my strength and confidence than I originally thought. Rejection coupled with disappointment coupled with complete BULLSHIT can be a doozy. I've been meaning to get back on the horse and ride that shit home, but I'm running away from my problems right now because I need time to deal.

I think it's time to stop being a little bitch and handle my shit. I have to be strong again.

Crucified
Laid behind a stone
You lived to die
Rejected and alone
Like a rose
Trampled on the ground
You took the fall
And thought of me
Above all

I'm not a model Christian; I'm far from it. But I remember the first time I saw my church enact the crucifixion of Christ. It broke my heart. At the time, I was still in between being an agnostic and a Christian. I still wasn't sure what to believe. But after that, I prayed with a church member, giving myself wholeheartedly to Him.

It was never that easy though. So many events happened after and I still am not that perfect Christian--if there is such a thing. I guess I lost my way after that too. I wasn't sure if I actually believed or not. Then at the end of the junior year and senior year of college, I literally found myself needing help, help that only God could give me. I was so terrified, but then all the teachings that I could remember from church came back to me. In my time of need, I could count on God.

Jesus Is Mocked

²⁷ Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole battalion before him. ²⁸And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, ²⁹and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on his head and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying, "Hail, King of the Jews!" ³⁰And they spit on him and took the reed and struck him on the head. ³¹And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him and led him away to crucify him.

The Crucifixion

³² As they went out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name. They compelled this man to carry his cross. ³³ And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull), ³⁴ they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall, but when he tasted it, he would not drink it. ³⁵And when they had crucified him, they divided his garments among them by casting lots. ³⁶Then they sat down and kept watch over him there. ³⁷And over his head they put the charge against him, which read, "This is Jesus, the King of the Jews." ³⁸Then two robbers were crucified with him, one on the right and one on the left. ³⁹And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads ⁴⁰and saying, "You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross." ⁴¹So also the chief priests, with the scribes and elders, mocked him, saying, ⁴² "He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. ⁴³ He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, 'I am the Son of God.'" ⁴⁴ And the robbers who were crucified with him also reviled him in the same way.

Matthew 27:27-27:44

There's something about looking at someone right before you kiss them. You put your hand on their cheek and you give them this look that you hope shows them how much you care about them.

That moment kills me every time.

But to live doesn't mean you're alive

Or maybe I meant *uninhibited.

Last month before graduation? It means I might be a little unhinged.

Is anything real, I get dizzy sometimes

Sometimes when I wake up, I start fantasizing of what could be and what could have been. Sometimes I still think about you, Dionel. I think about the beginning, when everything was new and strange. I wonder if I did this or that differently, maybe it could have worked out, but really, I don't think we would have worked in anyway. It just would have spiraled into a more intense and disturbing thing, more so than how it was--if possible.

I understand now that I had to get hurt. I have to learn to let myself get hurt. And yes, you really hurt me. I'm still reeling at how it's possible for someone to hurt someone else like this... and to think that other people are hurting worse than this, people who were actually in love.

I think about that day when I saw you, after the summer, you said that God must be angry with us because he wouldn't approve of us doing whatever we were doing. And I looked at you, confused, because all I could think of was, how could God be mad at this? I looked at you lying in my bed, with the Christmas lights casting a pink glow, and thought how could God disapprove of me following my heart? How could this be wrong?

And I think about that day I came to you after the winter break. You were so intense, so upset and angry at me. You just wanted to use and discard me, right? But when you were kissing me, I asked you if you missed me. I grabbed your face with both of my hands, feeling your stumble for the last time, and asked you softly, "Did you miss me?". You jerked your head and said that you didn't want to do this right now. That we should do this later when we're cuddling, but didn't you realize how similar we were? That I knew when you were lying to me. I kept grabbing your face before you could kiss me and kept asking if you did, and finally, you whispered in a strangled voice that you did. It was so low that I thought I imagined it.

Now he saw another elephant emerge from the place where it had stood hidden in the trees. Very slowly it walked to the mutilated body and looked down. With its sinuous trunk it stroked the huge corpse; then it reached up, broke some leafy branches with a snap, and draped them over the mass of torn thick flesh.

Finally it tilted its massive head, raised its trunk, and roared into the empty landscape. Jonas had never heard such a sound. It was a sound of rage and grief and it seemed never to end.
-The Giver by Lois Lowry

Dream:
There was a black cat on my window sill, and the second time I looked again, there were two. They were so beautiful; they had this soft black fur and gentle quality to them that I was drawn to feed them. When I fed them, they came to me. I could tell they liked me.

I had a much more vague dream that there was a killer in a random house that I was in. But I can't seem to draw anymore details other than that.

If we were to open to a random page in her journal--which she must have kept and kept with her at all times, not fearing that it would be lost, or discovered and read, but that she would one day stumble upon that thing which was finally worth writing about and remembering, only to find that she had no place to write it--we would find some rendering of the following sentiment: I am not in love.
-Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer

Dream:
I guess I can't wait to go back to Facebook since I was dreaming I signed on and was trying to get my friend to look at a picture.

More importantly, I dreamt I was going to a graduation and the building was half Bx Science and half of a church. All these kids were there waiting to graduate and then I found my grandpa at the front row, drinking something cold. He was in a lot of pain. His stomach was hurting and he was squeezing his eyes in pain. I told him it's because he needs to drink something warm and not something cold (linked this to my period probably). I didn't want to continue this dream anymore because I didn't want to see my grandpa hurt, so I forced myself to wake up.

I called my grandma afterward to check up on my grandpa. She said he's fine. This better not be a dream that comes true.

Maybe in the future...

if you still want to try. Then I am willing.

Things I am grateful for:

How soulful Boyz II Men songs are, especially End Of The Road.
The pouring rain of yesterday's thunder storm on the windshield of Alice's car.
The herbal tea that my aunt left for me on the dresser.
How a cup of milk tea fills me with nostalgia of my childhood.
How when it's cold, I can curl my toes into a blanket.
The saltiness of Chinese fish and lack of in Chinese soup and veggies.
The adventure dreams take me when I'm calm and steady.
How beautiful life truly is when you get back to the basics.

Dream:

I kept rushing to catch buses and there was a strange person that interrupted me who had been teaching kids. She was odd and annoying; I knew something was wrong with her when she started to talk to me and I wanted to get away from her ASAP. I grabbed people that I knew to help me get away from her and when they saw who I was talking to, they would rush off.

Then later on, there was this really cute boy. He was the classic white boy, tall with blue eyes. At first we were friends, but then it led to this slow affection for him. When I was around him, I was happy in a tranquil way.

We ended up in this house with others and I was in this one room that reminded me of my grandparent's old house in LI, it was oriental and had an antique feeling to it. And after I left the room, everyone was sitting at a table, and I was sitting next to the cute boy; I felt at ease. I could tell he felt the same way about me. For once, things were working out with someone I was interested in. When I returned to the room, one of my female friends was there. There was a archery target and she had been shooting arrows before we ate. I had a feeling that she felt guilty about something afterward, so she told me to shoot arrows into her mouth. She told me to make sure I got the middle, the bull's eye of her mouth.

I kept aiming, and I was sure that I would have gotten a bull's eye if I let go, but I couldn't do it. I didn't want to risk hurting her. I didn't shoot. What's stranger is that the room I was in, every time I entered, the room was overwhelmingly humid. I assumed there was a ghost because when I left the room, the other rooms were at normal temperatures. Then this old man enter and instantly knew something was wrong and knew there was a spirit. He immediately told me to pray 60 times.

Any who, I still woke up with that happy feeling I had for that boy. I'm glad to be home.

Shades of Ray is exactly what I hope for...well...sort of.

Me: is it still terrible of me to want closure
Me: to say goodbye at the end of the year?
Day: nah
Day: that's paying your respects i think
Day: like going to a grave and putting flowers
Me: lmao
Day: that's a morbid way of thinking about it

CarrollBlog 3.10

When you hear that I have died, think of this.
Think of cool night breezes while you walk to meet your friends for a beer on a Thurs­day. Think of wak­ing up in flan­nel sheets on a snowy morn­ing and kiss­ing some­one you love. Think of hung-over diner break­fasts and the best cup of cof­fee in the world. Think of the sound of tires on seamed high­ways while you travel, think of French kiss­ing and leather jack­ets and push-up bras and bour­bon, think of the joy of hard work with friends. Then think of me.


Not sad, not the melan­choly soli­tude of empty skies, but the full days and crowded bars and signed con­tracts, a smile too big for my face, remem­ber I said I stay busy enough to fit three lives into one. When you hear that I have died, know that I want laugh­ter, and danc­ing, real danc­ing, to music that makes you move with­out think­ing, you’re wear­ing boots and jeans and a great t-shirt and won­der­ing if the girl at the edge thinks you’re cute. And you moth­er­fuck­ers had best DANCE, none of this bull­shit rock-nod hands-in-the-pockets shoegazer non­sense, no, make an ass out of your­self, feel your hips, kick off the high heels and sway on the shoul­der of a stranger, when I die, you’d bet­ter be laugh­ing your ass off on side­walks, eat­ing deli­ciously unhealthy food, drink­ing shots and tip­ping your bar­tender well, no mat­ter how much money you make.


And Adam has to read the poem he wrote, and Laura, and June, and Scott Car­pen­ter has to play “Don’t Go Away, Chloe”, no fuck that, every musi­cian I’ve ever made out with or video­taped or road-tripped with has to play, so drink some cof­fee, baby, it’s gonna be a long night. When you hear that I have died, the best thing you can do is to get laid that night with a com­fort­able stranger, use my story to get their sym­pa­thy, and when you kiss them for the first time, think of me then.


When you hear that I have died, and you will, remem­ber your best revenge is to live well, take risks, save up money and chase your per­fect hap­pi­ness. Beat the sys­tem and learn to make your art really sup­port you, craft into some­thing your audi­ence can’t live with­out. Then make the world an even slightly bet­ter place — stop throw­ing your cig­a­rettes on the ground, vote in the next elec­tion, graf­fiti your life on the eyes of the hungry.


Then just do me one last favor. Please. Love some­thing. Any­thing. Start with your­self, but find pas­sion in every­thing, from an apple pie to a novel, make a fam­ily, get a degree, walk what­ever path is yours with your chin up and feet planted firmly. Have the best sto­ries to tell in the old folk’s home, about life­long friend­ships and epic love affairs, about the time you lost every­thing and yet found your­self hap­pier than when you began.. and remem­ber that time we got in SO much trouble…


Poets.. remem­ber. This is the story that never ends. When one of us leaves, another walks through the door. The pages turn, the sun keeps ris­ing. All you can do in the mean­while.. is to speak for your­self. Raise your voice high, tell your story, join hands against the dark and sing our souls to the sky. Know the best in me comes from the best in you, that as you tell your story, you will be telling mine, and our lives will be linked together for­ever, and every­one who hears you will become a part of the change we make.


So when you hear that I have died..
just …live.


–Gabrielle Bou­liane

If things were different

...but they aren't.

CarrollBlog 3.13

“Yeah Yeah Yeah”
by Roddy Lumsden

No matter what you did to her, she said,
There’s times, she said, she misses you, your face
Will pucker in her dream, and times the bed’s
Too big. Stray hairs will surface in a place
You used to leave your shoes. A certain phrase,
Some old song on the radio, a joke
You had to be there for, she said, some days
It really gets to her; the way you smoked
Or held a cup, or her, and how you woke
Up crying in the night sometimes, the way
She’d stroke and hush you, and how you broke
Her still. All this she told me yesterday,
Then she rolled over, laughed, began to do
To me what she so rarely did with you.

“Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… Waiting… And though unwanted… unbidden… it will stir, open its jaws, and howl. Passion is the source of our finest moments… the joy of love, the clarity of hatred and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bare. If we could live without passion, maybe we would know some kind of peace, but we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank… Without Passion, we’d be truly dead.”
-Angel

GILES: He's, he's trying to... resolve whatever issues are keeping him in limbo. W-w-what exactly those are, I'm not...
BUFFY: (interrupts) He wants forgiveness.
GILES: Yes. I imagine he does. But when James possesses people, they act out exactly what happened that night. So he's experiencing a form of purgatory instead. I mean, he's, he's doomed to, to kill his Ms. Newman over and over and over again, and... forgiveness is impossible.
BUFFY: Good. He doesn't deserve it.
GILES: To forgive is an act of compassion, Buffy. It's, it's not done because people deserve it. It's done because they need it.

I just want to graduate with happy memories. That's all I want.

Temptation is bad bad bad.

I can't focus on doing my work. I can only daydream about picnics and bbqs in the sun with company that I enjoy. Music blasting and everyone laughing and having a good time. This is all I can think about.

Apparently, I'm a troublemaker.

Willow: Do you wanna make out with me?
Oz: What?
Willow: Forget it. I’m sorry. Well, do you?
Oz: Sometimes when I’m sitting in class… You know, I’m not thinking about class, ‘cause that would never happen. I think about kissing you. And it’s like everything stops. It’s like, it’s like freeze frame. Willow kissage. Oh, I’m not gonna kiss you.
Willow: What? But freeze frame.
Oz: Well, to the casual observer, it would appear that you’re trying to make your friend Xander jealous or even the score or something. And that’s on the empty side. See, in my fantasy when I’m kissing you, you’re kissing me. It’s okay. I can wait.

(2.14 Innocence)

Cordelia: I know. I'm sorry. It's just... Who are we kidding? Even if parts of us do see specialness, we don't fit.

(Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered)

Now I'm back to square one.

WHY AM I BACK AT BING? I'M SO DONE WITH SCHOOL!

When Saturday comes around in my neighborhood, all I hear is loud music pumping. A part of me wishes I was a part of it, but then the other part wants to keep home a quiet haven. I don't want any drama. I'm not in fucking junior high school anymore.

What goes around, comes around.
What goes up, must come down.
It's called Karma baby.

-Alicia Keys

Gurpreet, you unconsciously restore my faith in men.

I'm wearing your ring mom. You and I would have had such a funky fashion.

You should bask in the sun.