Twenty-ten A-men

With the anxiety attacks slowly creeping up along with the doom of finals awaiting at the corner, for seniors, this may be the toughest time of their whole life.

Many are faced with the question of "where will I turn to now?"

as well as those faced with the euphoria of confirmation that the hard work has finally paid off.

To those accepted,

congratulations.

To those deferred/rejected:

prove those colleges wrong.

Make them realize their worst mistake.

Because even though I am impatiently counting the seconds until my decisions arrive, I know that ultimately, regardless of the decision of a complete stranger judging me through paper, I am the only capable person to develop and paint my own future.

Yes, the admission board as of now may seem like they have everyone's destiny and fate in their hands, but the reality is they only have the power to open or deny ONE opportunity. The next four years after high school life are not up to them.

My Paradox

The occurrences that happen "only in movies" or to "someone else'e life" seem to present in my life more than I would wish for. I still hear the piercing scream replaying like a broken record in my head, and I tremble at the images that follow the audio. It's a nightmare, only I'm fully awake, trying to grasp a handle on my emotions.

I'm lucky, yet I'm not so lucky.

I guess God intends me to never forget the atrocities that surround the world. He made some to walk in the sunlight, but He gave to others the walk under the shadows. But the ones under the darkness- it's their job to seek out the sunlight.

I pretend to be stronger than I actually am, but I am stronger than you'll ever know.

Dear Beloved

Art thou as timid of the

thing deemed attachment
that haughtedly enters

the water to rip the

placid surface-

into the thousand rings that

sail to shore to shatter

upon its gentle caress?

The Little Prince

I solemnly swore that I would never be the adult who forgot to see the frightening snake digesting the elephant.

Rain

How I loved the
saccharine sight
of the dim lit
world as
the night rains hit
like gentle jazz
and swept sorrows
eternally

If thou must love me

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say,
"I love her for her smile—her look—her way
Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"—
For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee—and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry:
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

-Elizabeth Barrett Brownin

How I wish to decorate!

The Unconscious

"I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind." -Wuthering Heights

If dreams are glimpses to the other world, a peephole into the world that we know of unconsciously, then my other world seems to be quite tragic.

The Phototropsim of the Dark

She planted the seed of discord in her heart, now only capable of watching as it bloomed into the night, the petals a glowing black. Illuminated with darkness, the beautiful flower stretched to the deepest center of her heart. There, powered by her own evil, the roots cohere the energy up to those petals, those sinister yet enticing petals. So it stood tall into the night. Only the night.

In the morning, she regained her harmony, never fully whole but never lacking.

I stand in the 8th Circle of Inferno.
Just one more step and I descend into the deep blackness, where I discover the secrets of hell.
Hell unrolling unto the furthest depths darkness,
the dark indistinguishable from the light.


Don't try to rescue me.
Because it might appaul you as I exclaim,
EXCLAIM,
my predilection of this eternal discord.

Into the depths of the fury,
even worse than hate


is the secret.


The secret that burns above the degrees of the fire where I forever lay.
My soul may be nothing but ashes fluttering with the wings of the devil,
but my heart,

my heart is with the heavens,
while my soul incinerates.

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Perfection

I love it when everything makes sense,
like when you've finally fit the last piece of the puzzle together.

I love it when my sky is a sparkling blue,
even when it's pouring outside.

I love it when I find the flower,
hidden behind the chaos.

I love this fleeting moment,
a moment of perfection,
even though it may last only a fraction of a second.

♥

The power

"A slip of the foot you may soon recover,
but a slip of the tongue you may never get over."
-Benjamin Franklin


Somethings may not be worth a speck of interest to you,
and probably,

you don't even know.
You don't even notice.

But to me,

they can stab my heart and
open the pathway for my tears.

Emotions don't follow logic,
so be careful with your words-
even more careful than you are with your feet.

I'm more fragile than you think.
One touch, one word, and I could break into pieces.

Fortuitous

Sometimes we don't give enough thanks.
We don't give enough care.
Or enough love.

So I want to take the fleeting moment to truly appreciate.

I am so lucky.
I know it. I've always known it.

But sometimes I'm blind.
Very blind to all that's going on around me.
And I miss the little sunlight seeping through the crack in the window, just waiting to be opened.

The truth is-
I'm not always incredibly strong,
I'm not always incredibly together,
I'm not always incredibly independent.

You know what though?
I have wonderful people surrounded by me,
who sat down with me when I fell,
picked me back up,
showed me beauty,
and guided me.

And they make me feel as if
I'm just about the luckiest girl in the whole wide world.



Thank you.

The heart

All my thoughts and emotions are compiled into bits and pieces,
torn from one another.
I feel love, mercy, and goodness.
I feel hate, revenge, and evilness.

But what do you do when your shield is cast away,
leaving you vulnerable for the darkness of the world?

You fight it.
You try not to let the hate and anger build up on your heart.
And you have to fight it, even if you constantly trip and fall.

People assume it’s naïve to be moral,
that business and ethics do not match.

They say I’m naïve to believe that karma and goodness and love will eventually win.
But if no one believes,
the mountains will be ignored, perhaps not even visible.
And no one will climb the mountains.

Yes, I see the corruption; the war; the manipulations. But-
When I am entered into those thoughts of cynicism,
I remind myself of the adversities that humanity has overcome.

Slavery- once accepted as right,
once accepted as a necessity,
once accepted as power and money.

We have overcome it.
Why?
Because someone refuted the notion that “without it you can’t win”.
Because someone felt the tug in their hearts that it was wrong.

We are all blind because we are all only so human.
But maybe that’s why God gave us hearts.

We make mistakes,
but character is not defined by perfection.
It is the steps taken after the falls that really defines us.

I wish to make my steps toward the light.

Can you hear me now?

I thought I loved you.
But honestly, I don't know how to truly love a person.

I don't know love; I merely know the connotations of love.


Because I'm constantly battling this war against myself,

Because I am a selfish person who can't see outside the wall I've built for myself,

Because of the constant fear of being consumed by the great light of love, being afraid to be the next moth to burn into ashes,

I cannot receive love, I cannot give love.

I've always been infatuated with the idea of love.

However, it is not your evanescent love I desire anymore.

It is the love that I can feel, that can be a guidance; so that I may one day be able to love, and show the world what kind of love I'm capable of,

it is the love around me that I can hold onto, to get me to the other side in times of thin ice,

that I desperately need.

Vision

I could write an elaborate blog,

snipping pieces of my thoughts

gluing them together

trying to paint a picture.

But I won't.

For me, talk is just talk.

Beautiful as words are,

as powerful as words are,

sometimes they just don't compare to the chaos of life in where words are meaningless.

Maybe it's only me,

because I've never been able to fully express myself through the charisma of intricately woven language.

But the little, simple things in life let me know that good exists in the world.

Such as your smile. Your tears. Your laughter. Your heart. Your music. Your beauty.

Inexplanable, untouchable objects.

That don't even come close to words.