My 100% Man on a Fine May Morning

I keep dreaming of you.

You told me you were leaving tonight, but then somehow you were stroking my thighs. And all I could think about was I hope my thighs are soft.

You asked me: Do you believe in 100% people?
Do we make everyone we want to be that person?

And I responded:
I do believe in a 100% person, but who really knows until you look at your life at the end. People try to make everyone out to be their 100% person (probably 50-75%) because nobody wants to believe that they're alone in the world. Again, maybe it's just another way to preserve oneself. Most of the time, it's lust, infatuation, companionship, obsession, destruction etc., but in that rare instance (when the planets align) that you find that 100% person, I think it's possible to feel complete.

Are you my 100% man? After this, I don't know, but I have a feeling you may not be.

------------------------------------------------------------------
My uncle left this morning. When people leave me, even if not permanently, I get distraught. I've always held this fear that people, when they leave, will be gone forever. When I was younger, whenever I would nap I would occasionally be semi-conscious because I would remember the blanket being re-draped over me. However, if I woke up and no one was nearby I would cry because, to me, it would seem like everyone left; I'd feel alone.

I have yet to cry, but I think it will come. I'm counting on it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The most beautiful and dreadful sight?

Seeing a white airplane, by itself, against the backdrop of the vast cloud-ful blue sky.
Freedom and abandonment.

Image Source

Listening to Oasis's Stop Crying Your Heart Out.
For Oasis Haters...IT'S NOT GAY!

Here is my soft Confession

I cry. I cry at the littlest things. I cry at the biggest things. I am a cry-baby.

Forgive me. You're only 8. Forgive me. You're only 8 and you're dying. Forgive me. You're only 8 and you're dying and you have a brain tumor. Forgive me. You're only 8.

Forgive me.

I may be smitten

I feel most comfortable with those I can be honest with, where I'm not being judged. I feel most comfortable with those who I know will keep my secrets - the trust factor. I feel most comfortable with those who will try to understand my feelings, but at the same time will not reinforce nonsense.

And when I'm most comfortable, that's when you will find me laughing freely, giggling mad. It's good to feel like myself again. LiDaPoJo = Giggling Gals (except for Li, she snorts).

The difference between innocence and naivety...is there a difference?

Being naive may lead to being innocent, but innocence may not necessarily lead to naivety. Just because I'm not as immoral or yet fully tainted from the world doesn't make me naive. I'm realistic as the next person or even more so. I'd rather try to believe in more optimistic views because that's what pulls people through. Why live in pain and agony when you can try to live in gratitude and acceptance?

This is a clever title for a blog

I was jogging this morning, and before I stepped out of the house I was thanking the gods that it wasn't raining. Of course, as I stepped out I saw umbrellas and the Drizzle of Death.

You'd think this would stop me. But no. I AM UNSTOPPABLE! I AM KIM POSSIBLE!

That's right, I ran in the rain.

Okay. I know it's not a big deal and the only reason I didn't go back into the house was because I was too lazy to walk up the stairs and also because I took forever to get dressed, stretch, and do some sit-ups. I mean I had to choose two laziness-es (lazini?): to go back into the house or just keep walking out. I figured if I was already out, mind as well keep going.

This introduction has absolutely nothing to do with anything that I'm about to type because I don't know what I'm about to type but I do know that was the end of that intro.

Currently listening to Bob Marley's No Woman No Cry (live version).

No, woman, no, cry;
no, woman, no cry.
'Ere, little darlin', don't shed no tears:
No, woman, no cry.

...

Everything's gonna be all right!
Everything's gonna be all right!
Everything's gonna be all right!
Everything's gonna be all right!
I said, everything's gonna be all right-a!
Everything's gonna be all right!
Everything's gonna be all right, now!
Everything's gonna be all right!

And fell in love with Coldplay's Warning Sign and A Rush of Blood to the Head.

Maybe I should throw this banana peel away.

Crazy for yo...gurt. ;) (Bold face lie)

Good day for writing.

The Boiling Point

Is woman/man an island?

Yes and No.

Yes. In the sense that everyone must go through their own journeys, everyone must face their fears, everyone must experience things no one else can because of that part of you that makes you you can never be expressed. It is, after all, what makes you special. No one can relate as exactly as you hope for.

Yet. No NO. No.
Like in "Buried Life", everyone is going through something traumatic, something stressful. Everyone is lost in this wave we call life, some manage to swim to shore and others may be lost at sea forever. It is your choice. But if this were the case, then you'd know that a few feet away, there is someone floundering as you are. Someone there that will give you the strength because you aren't alone in your struggle.

I wish I was religious again to say these calming words to you, "I'll pray for you". But, the truth is, you don't need it. I can feel the overwhelming power in you. You will always stand another day because you are you.

On another note:

Perhaps you sent this to dissuade me or otherwise "persuade" me, whatever it is.

I counter it.


We briefly mentioned dreams yesterday, and then I dreamt of you. It's funny. I still think if I could, I'd marry you in a heartbeat.

But even that's too long.

the Best & the Worst

are the times you spend with family, friends, and lover(s).

People, relations, connections ~~~> what a conundrum.

No wise prattle today.

Just living for each day.

Let me absorb it all, all the good and all the bad

I don't understand family.
Who invented such a fucked up structure that it's the only stable constant that's willing to pick up the fucking pieces of your life in it's unique way?

I want to steal that look of dread from their eyes. I want to take away that look that says "I'm lost and I have no one". I want to keep it from spreading to the younglings, keep it from usurping the innocence from their eyes. Yes. I wish I could protect all the little ones from getting hurt because they never did anything to deserve to be in their situation.

If anything ever happened to my dad, I don't know what I would do. I'm scared and in wait of the day where I can't call him to tell him that I love him, where I can't tell him that I know he sacrifices for me everyday. That I'm so proud of him and that I don't care that he couldn't be the ideal dad. That he's the only one I have.

I eat and I exercise so I can forget.
I write so I can remember.

My style of writing? Jagged random thoughts crammed together to make blogs like this.

L.O.V.E. You I was made to be with you

Somehow Joann and I managed to weave through the mass of Epik High fans (from the middle of the freaking crowd) to the front. We were so close to touching Tablo (Joann touched Mithra - very cute dimples!). I have no pictures or videos-except on my phone-because I refused to bring my camera. I'll live through Joann's photographic talent instead.

I felt bad actually during the whole concert. Maybe I was dehydrated or maybe because I didn't eat since 1 yesterday, but I felt like I couldn't feel any of the words. I couldn't process anything. I was in the middle of a crowd and I felt so alone. Towards the end when Tablo, MYK, and Kero One were singing Map The Soul, they kept repeating "No reason to live without you" and "L.O.V.E. You I was made to be with you" and I could feel everyone thinking of someone, either requited or unrequited. And me? I felt nothing. I couldn't feel the words. They blazed over me like a helicopter that missed a stranded individual.

But now, after a restless night even though I was tired, I'm reading the lyrics, and I wished I could have appreciated them last night. They're beautiful lyrics.



[MYK]
I remember my first glimpse of her face
I saw you smile then I smiled
I was straight blown away
Mesmerized by your beauty from your feet to your hands
How can one be so beautiful? l don't understand
Heaven-sent, God's gift without a doubt in my mind
Sometimes I wonder why our paths decided to collide
We started off as perfect strangers
Boy meets girl
Infatuation to love
Now you're my whole entire world
Destiny taps me on the back saying hello
But really it was your touch knowing I'd never let you go
Then you spoke
I never heard a voice so sweet
Heavenly, and from her words I knew this girl was deep just like me
With times to worry and times to play we'll sit and stress over life or just burn the day away
I know for sure in our past lives we had to be friends, living and dying together knowing that we would meet again
It's just a blessing to have you in my life
I was destined to be with you
I'm priveilged
So amazing
No question
And I'm knowing soon enough we'll get where we're going
Just thinking about it, I can feel my heart growing
Am I trippin' Or is it that I finally see?
I don't know
But my heart is saying you're the one for me
Please believe me
I'm exactly where I want to be
This rhyme is written from my heart to you sincerely
[Chorus]
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
[Tablo]
You turn a cocooned soul into a butterfly
And I lose control
Can never turn aside
You shine like summer skies
Like when a lover lies next to me and says to me
"You make me wonder why"
You are a beautiful mystery
Every note carved into musical history
A simile
A metaphor
Words not enough to entrust to you
Trust that it's true
We must have a clue
But we ask for evidence, dwell in passing sentiments though we bask in eminence
Every moment every day busy, getting paid away, the soul fades away into a grainy shade of gray
I pray that you listen to what I say
Cause I feel like a missing shoe
This is to everything that you are
The wild earth, a child's birth, Sun, Moon, and the stars
[Chorus]
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
[Kero One]
So I ask
"What would I be without you"
Like stevie without wonder, hunger without food, a sheep without a shepherd, asleep without your message
Despite the skeptics in the end you were true
And I knew that there was more to life
And I grew living for the light
I took my answers, combined them with yours
It made life exciting but it closed some doors
Word to Christ
My life accelerated then deflated, sunk to bottom then elevated until I made it
But you always had my back though
When kids threw rocks at me or on stage rappin'
Still I see kids without love
It brings tears to my soul
But why they always drop up?
The world's gone bonkers
You've conquered fear
And as long as I believe You're the reason I'm here
[Chorus]
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
No reason to live without you
[Outro]
L O V E you
I was made to be with you, made to be with you, made to be with you

Yesterday was the first day we didn't say anything to each other. I wonder if you noticed. I wonder if you care or if you think I was busy. I already knew it was eventually going to stop, but I wished...I wished that you took that unconventional step to say something to me. I wish you knew that it was the turning point.

"See you later"

The gist of things

There are two kinds of people out there, the fake cynic and the fake optimist. Oxymorons at its best.

The fake cynic acts like they know everything and treat others as inferiors. People dislike them because they happen to put everything in perspective-- so called reality. However, the truth is that they're romantics, they secretly hope that all the negative bullshit they sprout is nonsense. They hope that things will turn out for the better. Though their words and actions betray them, they are the ones who expect the most out of people because they unknowingly believe in humanity.

Now people think they should be wary of cynics because all they do is put people and things down, but, in reality, they are the ones you ultimately want to be friends with. They won't tell you what you want to hear, but as it is. In their twisted way, they're trying to save your ass, just not in the peppy "You can do it!" way.

The fake optimist are mini Lucifers. They're not necessarily manipulators but they trick people into false security. They have a soft and bubbly nature that lures people into telling them their dreams and hopes. They pretend everything will be okay and naively encourage without touching upon consequences and discussing actual problems. They tell you what you want to hear and tell you what they feel like they should, depending on the situation, but they have no sense of "reality". They believe that they're alone in this world and by faking themselves they cruise through life.

Now I understand that I put it in such a way that divides them into black and white, but it's never like that. I'm a mix of both. I'm just as pungently fake as mentioned, but is anything real?

Laughing My Ass Off

ltndt8990 (1:11:19 PM): yo

ltndt8990 (1:11:24 PM): imagine you were a virgin mother

ltndt8990 (1:11:28 PM): would you be freaked out?

ltndt8990 (1:11:29 PM): =x

ltndt8990 (1:11:30 PM): hahaha

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:05 PM): hahaha yeah

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:08 PM): i would be like

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:10 PM): I DIDNT GET PLEASURE

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:13 PM): I JUST GET THE PAIN

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:13 PM): WTF

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:14 PM): lmao

ltndt8990 (1:13:15 PM): hahaha

Dr34m0n898 (1:13:15 PM): unfairness

ltndt8990 (1:13:18 PM): dumbass

ltndt8990 (1:13:19 PM): hahaha

ltndt8990 (1:13:32 PM): id be like "WTF JESUS IS IN MY WOMB!

ltndt8990 (1:13:33 PM): HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA RAISE JESUS?

ltndt8990 (1:13:34 PM): -_-

ltndt8990 (1:13:51 PM): omg, imagine you miscarry JESUS?

ltndt8990 (1:13:51 PM): -_-

Blankness

Do you ever feel like you're just sick of it. Sick of everything, sick of the bad, sick of the good. Sick enough that you wish you could stop time, so that you can gather your thoughts and hear some silence.

Sometimes I wish I was deaf for a little while.

Stop making me smile & stop making me downcast my eyes

It takes one person to believe in you to make you great.
So I guess, everyone has potential to be great.

Internship went quasi-well today. I just felt like adding in quasi, like quasi-independent variable.

Have been listening to Shania Twain and BSB. Can you tell what weird mood I'm in?

The End

3 Year old reunited with mother after 2 weeks of being kidnapped.

What are the chances? 1 out of a million.
Be grateful for what and who you have and who you have met. I'll try to.

Cloudy in Elmhurst and sunny in Bing? Strange happenings.

Backstreet Boys


Old Skool===>Oh what? Epik High Concert? Word.

No song fits; have they all turned to size 0?

You know how you have those songs that you feel like you can relate to when you're happy or dance-y or sad (etc). Yeah. I don't feel that at all.

I can't stand any songs right now. They feel overused; they can't represent what kind of mood I'm in. They're too plain.

I'm so sick of unnecessary drama.

I just want it to be just me and you, lost in the world trying to understand and trying to find meaning.

Have you ever

Have you ever loved somebody so much
It makes you cry

There's a difference in every person you like/love/interested in. There are different approaches in dealing with ache, typically with tears or with moping.

But what's the difference between this and that?

This doesn't hurt. Not at all. This doesn't make me want to leave and doesn't make me want to hide. This doesn't make me feel pain, not in the slightest. This doesn't degrade me.

Yet, why do I feel so empty? Cliched, right? What does empty really mean anyways.

Empty. Emptiness. Loss. Like someone slowly detached a vital organ of mine. Because though I'm functional, I feel disabled. I feel like I'm missing something.

In another world, in another time, I would have married you.

I felt at peace whenever I was with you.

ARMAGEDDON --Just Kidding

The end is drawing near where I will have to say goodbye to subjects, to teachers, to TAs, and to friends.

I look at my desk (because I'm messy as heck) and I find various things that have made sophomore worth living for.

What's on my desk?
A Shakespeare tome
British Literature nonsense
A banana (A BANANA THAT TOOK FOREVER TO RIPEN!)
An instant noodle cup from Billy Goat
A board of quotes I filled out before and after getting semi-rejected (don't assume about quotes from these words).

"Yet, yet I love!" -"Eloisa to Abelard" Alexander Pope

King: My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
-Hamlet Shakespeare

"Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. Love still stands when all else has fallen."

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will."
-Mahatma Gandhi

"Don't wish me happiness. I don't expect to be happy it's gotten beyond that, somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor--I will need them all."
-Anne Lindbergh

A picture frame given to me for secret santa
A donut [was two] (<3)
A Hawaiian lay necklace from my last Frat party
Taken shortbread cookies
Roses from Bri (<3)
Cards from Bri
Last edition of Pipe Dream for this year (I haven't read it) (I will never read it).

Every time I listen to Dido's White Flag, I think of Zhan, of how much I liked him, of how much I thought he was the one for me. But I let go.

"I know you think that I shouldn't still love you
Or tell you that
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it
Where's the sense in that?"

Though the feeling has passed or at least has become dormant, I'm grateful for them.

So I still stand by what I wrote to you no matter how idealistic and foolishly young of me:
"Love Love Love makes us who we are".

"I can't let go" la la la la But maybe I will

I will cherish all my fantasies and dreams of you.

I will never confess to you because nothing will come of it, because I don't think I'm even interested, because I have the power do so.

I don't like David Choi much, but his recent songs made me tear. Lately, everything effing makes me tear. Oh, women extremities!





"LOve is so very whimsical in both sexes, that it is impossible to be lasting. But my heart is particular, and contradicts my own observations." John Gay's The Beggar's Opera

The beauty of letting go

is that you have to and that it will happen.

Titles are too hard to think of

Did you ever notice that there are things you carelessly look over or ignore because to you it doesn't matter, it doesn't affect you in the slightest. Then - WHAM - something or someone happens and then you start looking closer at certain events, certain activities, certain music, and certain words. Things start having meaning, start to make sense, you absorb so much more than you ever did.

Have you have any clue to how much you make me smile with the simplest and unintentional words. It may of made your heart skip, but it's you who make me want to make your heart skip.

===========OOOOO============

A friend mentioned that she saw me walking once and I suddenly smiled and did a little positive stride, tilting my head to the sides. Embarrassing to say the least, but, yes, I do that a lot. Sometimes, I feel so revitalized that I walk out absorbing my surroundings, wondering at how is it possible that life and nature could be so beautiful. Or sometimes I return listening to music, thinking of people and smile to myself because I can't bare to hold in the excitement or the laughter that that memory reminded me of.

===========OOOOO=============
Sherman Alexie's The Toughest Indian in the World

"Sissy," he said to the bartender. "In another world, you and I are Romeo and Juliet."
"But we live in this world, Junior."

"Do you think there's a number? asked Salmon Boy. Do you think there's a magic number written on every heart? Do you think you can kiss right up to some magic number and make a person love you?"

The dining hall lady asked me if I called home yet. I said I didn't, confused as to why she would ask such a random question. She said, "Call home soon. It's Mother's Day remember".

So. (Glancing heavenward.)

Happy Mother's Day mom.

Happiness--an Ideal

But it's not.

Happiness isn't elusive after all.

I'm filled with so much emotion that I lack language. Nothing is expressed as I want it to.

And yet...yet...you bring out that rarity that was mentioned in "The Buried Life". In this instance, I can see who I really am and perhaps who you really are.

The capability of bringing this forth makes it more precious (and makes me giddy(gross)).

Rain
Shirley Steinman

I had not felt rain
that stung, or burned, or caused me pain.
My childhood dampenings
were soft and blurred
or happily pell mell with summer laughing.

I'd eagerly turned
to face rain's strident slap
as a challenge to how alive I felt.
Whooping and open-faced,
I splashed barefoot and aware.
Even that wild spring flood
meant canoe rides on the lawn.

But just now, as I knelt beside the grave,
in summer heat as warm as childhood's memory,
rain came to flail and pelt and gouge at me.
It beat and lashed and violently fought,
till, fetal-shaped, I curled and cried.
I may not ever trust a rain again.

Tumbling over in Anxiety

Today is the last.

I wonder if signs are just things I notice more now because of you or if they're actually signs. I'm at the point where two roads are open now, one leads to you and the other one leads away. I guess it's truly up to you.

I have no more words to say. Just that my physical state has become more overwhelming. Is it nervousness? Is it anxiety? Or is it cramps (doubtful)?

$%*% %^$^ #%$% $%$%$$%

None of this makes any sense.

---------------------------------------------------------
So I was right to be anxious. I've never felt so bad over being so right before.

I woke up AGAIN with anxiety in the pit of my stomach

I don't know or rather I don't understand why when I wake up I can't return to sleep, I can't calm down. My uneasiness is annoying me; I know it isn't from academic work, far from it.

What is it?

Out of the Victorian writers I've read this semester, I most appreciated Matthew Arnold's work.

Parts of his poem "The Buried Life"

Alas! is even love too weak
To unlock the heart, and let it speak?
Are even lovers powerless to reveal
To one another what indeed they feel?
I knew the mass of men conceal'd
Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal'd
They would by other men be met
With blank indifference, or with blame reproved;
I knew they lived and moved 20
Trick'd in disguises, alien to the rest
Of men, and alien to themselves--and yet
The same heart beats in every human breast!

But we, my love!--doth a like spell benumb
Our hearts, our voices?--must we too be dumb?

~~~~

But often, in the world's most crowded streets,
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course; 50
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us--to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.

~~~~~~

Only--but this is rare--
When a beloved hand is laid in ours,
When, jaded with the rush and glare
Of the interminable hours, 80
Our eyes can in another's eyes read clear,
When our world-deafen'd ear
Is by the tones of a loved voice caress'd--
A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,
And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again.
The eye sinks inward, and the heart lies plain,
And what we mean, we say, and what we would, we know.
A man becomes aware of his life's flow,
And hears its winding murmur; and he sees
The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze. 90

[His poem questions the reason why we are here and what we are doing; he wants to be on the right path of life, but how will he, or anyone, know this. (All of this is explained by my professor, not going to lie, didn't read it until after he lectured on it.)

His poem is basically on how there are two selves of a person, one that everyone knows and that the person knows, and another that the no one knows, not even the person, him/her self, because it is always repressed. The first of the poem I put here asks whether love can unlock the mysteries of a person and goes into that if someone were to try to say their true thoughts or feelings, they'd be rebuked because that is how society is. Additionally, people's desires aren't that different, but because people are scared of being mocked, they keep it to themselves.

The second part of the poem ("But often...") explains that we get glimpses inside of us, a feeling that you want to do something, a calling of some kind, "unspeakable desire After the knowledge of our buried life; A thirst to spend our fire and restless force In tracking out our true, original course". We're always in search of what we truly want to do, what our purpose is from the universe.

The last part is my favorite part, it says that it's on rare occasion, but a lover can help you re-access yourself. Only through love can you find yourself again. "A bolt is shot back somewhere in your breast, And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again". "A man becomes aware of his life's flow, And hears its winding murmur; and he sees The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze". ]


Sometimes there are times where I feel like I understand perfectly who I am and what I want to do with my life. Yet, all the answers disappear and I'm left alone again, clumsily tripping around trying to realize why I'm here. Though, the part about love is cliched, I think he meant to say that when you find that right person--emphasis on rarity of it--that somehow the union will enable you to reopen your eyes to what you love to do, what your original course was.

Uh who's obsessive? Me? Oh pshaw!

I'm praying that you can stay, somehow.

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She have no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.

Ewok labor factory. That would not be cool.
Elmer Fudd was always dangerous.

Miss....such a pathetic word.

Woke up with a tummy full of strange anxiety

I didn't mean to dream about you again, but I guess, secretly, there are insecurities that I would rather admit to myself in my dream than in the real world (if this is the real world).

Somehow I was with Joann and Lily, and we were searching for you because it seemed like any second you would leaving to some remote cite (LV...louie vuitton). So I go to this restaurant in search of you because there's no way of contacting you without going to meet you. We spoke with one of other workers, thinking that he could possibly be you. I thought that you turned into someone else completely, so when the other worker said he was you, I wasn't surprised. Joann and Lily thought you were ugly though; however, the worker lied about being you. So then I think we found some way to get to you.

The scene shifts to Dayana and I on the bus, going to some random place, I think I was trying to look for you. We're on the bus, passing by all these locations. Of course, I never reach you, but somehow I end up at Rachel Zoe's mansion--I think that was because I read yesterday that a couple was at her party.

I woke up surprised at the contents of my dream. I don't mean to invest so much of myself into it. In fact, I still don't believe that it's that big of a deal; I still feel that I can walk away whenever I want. Then why did I wake up so anxious? Like I couldn't bare it.

I'm already looking for you when you haven't even disappeared yet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Last night, as I was walking up to my dorm after the longest day with my head phones on, one of the lunch ladies asked me if the transportation was coming or not. She's small, has glasses, and has a hoarse voice. I told her that I didn't know if her transportation came yet.

I was walking away when I was thinking about how the other day I asked her if she saw my sunglasses in the dining hall. She really tried to look for them for me. That stayed with me, so I turned back and walked back to her to accompany her.

She was tearing and talking about how her mother needs her since she's sick, alone, and 84. There she stood infront of CIW dining hall alone. I couldn't bare to leave her. She kept shooing me away because she knows I have to study, but I didn't want to leave her there.

Eventually, I took her into the Night Owl and the nice worker there was going to call the BC transport for her. However, as we were trying to get in, I realized she was blind. I opened the door for her but she got confused and closed it and then opened it to enter.

When I finally walked away from her, I was just frustrated. I don't understand how some people are left alone even though they don't deserve to be. I don't understand how some people who have such good intentions are never noticed or cared about enough.

I wonder how many people there are in the world, like this lunch lady, just waiting to get home to get to their mother.

When you get involved too much, you get hurt

I knew already from the very beginning, nothing would amount, but still I always carry that bit of hope that maybe...just maybe something would stay.

I'm not dumb enough to think I'm actually interested or that I care, but I just don't want to let go because if I do, I won't be able to find you. You'll disappear and that's what you want, but- I don't know why - I can't bare to imagine that you're somewhere in the world alone (or not). I don't like knowing that one second you're contactable- though not really - and the next, you're literally gone.

Where will you be? No one will know. You'll be a figure in random crowds strutting to your own beat. And no one will know how weird you really are, and no one will know how amazingly awkward and charming and introverted you can be, and no one will know because you're not sticking around for people to find out and you're not letting people really get to know you.

Just because you have more years of experiences doesn't mean that I can't relate. Maybe my emotions will never be as mature as yours, but the intensity of emotions is universal, and we at the very least have that in common.

I want to know that your presence is somewhere, but I guess that's the sort of restraint that you wouldn't want.

I would like to believe that we're all connected by strings of fate and that eventually all the people I want to see again will be led back to me. Or is this just wistful thinking again?

Are you lonely?///Pride WHAT?

There are different categories of loneliness: one category involves those who are are left alone by everyone they meet, one category involves those who leave alone everyone they meet-to be alone-and, lastly, those who confuse the crap out of everyone.

Which one are you? Stop confusing my friend and I.

Lately, I've been having bad dreams. Last night, I dreamt that as I was walking out of a school and seeing vb boys meeting up secretly-without asking any of the girls or me-to go play vb. I was annoyed as hell. How dare they go play without me!

But the actual significance to the dream was in the latter part, where a clutter of white feathers-sparking too- littered the floor. Somehow, I knew that it was my job to pick them up. So I start to place them on a couch that happens to be right next to the pile of feathers, but I realize half way through the pile that it would take too much time to pick the rest up so I decide not to (Cost-Benefit Analysis?Oh Envi.).

Two meanings:
1. Perhaps I'm trying to get my life back on track, taking responsibility for myself.
2. I want to give up on things I know is too outrageous to go after. cough coughs.

My interviewer asked me, "Why do you write?"
I can express myself as best as I can through writing; I can re-edit(for example, it's the day after and I found numerous grammar and content mistakes) my words to better my meanings because communication-like writing-is the only way people can understand on some level what someone else is feeling or thinking.

Random Tangent
Let's drown our Dignity and Pride down the drain. But it isn't a bad thing, Dignity and Pride isn't always needed. I can be happy without it always interfering with my life.