and i am only yours..

‘Let me be your angel’
Tiffany Evans sings-no, more yells- passionately into the mic. I am staying up late and watching ‘Late night at the Apollo,’ which is not a clever move on my part, as i am supposedly waking up early tomorrow for another long drive.

i want to be somebody’s girl. i want someone to look at me and think, ‘that’s ___’s girl.’ i want someone to lean in towards someone else, glance at me and whisper, ‘that’s ____’s girl.’

for once in my life i’d love to be defined by my belonging to someone else. i want that person’s strength and their persona and their character and THEIR identity to define me, a part of me, forever bound, our identities intwined in our love and belonging to each other. 

i want to be loved. i want others to see me and know that i am loved. i want others to see me and know that i am loved by the one i love, and that he loves only me- i am exquisitely taken and i only hold his attention and his affection, and behind closed doors and beyond prying eyes they know that only I see the intimate sweet moments. i want people to look at us and only dream of imagining the softness of our private time, which we would hide in public, visible in only momentary glimmers, a soft glance, a quick smile, a brush of the hands and lingering gaze.

i want girls to look at him and know that he is mine. i want to go to bed and snuggle up to my pillow and catch the coconut scent of my hair, and know that this scent is his and i am his and this sweet fragrance floating carefully into the fibers of my pillow are woven in there for only him. i want to wake up in the morning and brush that mascara sparkle into my eyes and a pink stain onto my lips so that others may see how beautiful i am being his, and how i am beautiful and yet only his- i am beautiful for only him. 

‘People do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness’ -Breakfast at Tiffany’s
And how could they not? And how beautiful it is, to relinquish your independent identity for the love of another, for a few sweet months at least to be intwined with that person.

‘I’d gladly give my freedom, to be held in your captivity.’ -India Arie.

 

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/avp17/>

my dreamy friend

It’s her hair and her eyes today
That just simply takes me away
And the feeling that I’m falling further in love
Makes me shiver, but in a good way

All the times I have sat and stared
As she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
And she purses her lips, bats her eyes
And she plays with me sitting there slack jawed
With nothing to say

Cause I love her with all that I am
And my voice shakes along with my hands
Coz she’s all that I see and she’s all that I need
And I’m out of my league once again

It’s a masterful melody
When she calls out my name to me
As the world spins around her
She laughs, rolls her eyes
And I feel like I’m falling but it’s no surprise.

Cause I love her with all that I am
And my voice shakes along with my hands
Cause it’s frightening to be swimming in this strange sea
But I’d rather be here than on land

Yes she’s all that I see and she’s all that I need
And I’m out of my league once again.

wouldn’t it be a beautiful thing.

I need change, i want to appear suddenly in the middle of Thailand with a basket of green mangoes in my arms and a crowd of the native people flowing around me like a colorful river. 

the dirt swirls and the sun blazes with a passion you just don’t see in America anymore, and just as i catch the scent of some strange spice on the air, i am whisked away to the peak of a snowy mountain. perhaps the Appalachians, or the Scottish highlands, the Austrian Alps. the air is so sharp it bites, clouds form from my mouth and melt away into the piercing blue sky. 

I want to stand in a dark corner at a local bar in downtown Barcelona and watch the passionate dance and nightlife of the Spanish underworld. my eyes will be smoky with dark shadow and my restless fingers with fiddle with the sequins in my skirt. 
If i close my eyes hard enough, i’m there- sitting cross-legged on the white shores of the mystical Maldives, the crystalline waters rushing up past my waist, warm winds flowing over my skin and through my hair the way it did in Maui when i forgot my own name.

I have another midterm tomorrow. it’s 5am, i just had one too many cups of coffee and i can’t sleep.. even if i wanted to. but i don’t want to. my bed has too much crap on it. i’m feeling far too lethargic to even attempt to clear it. 
my roommate has disappeared, fiesty Latina minx. off somewhere mixing it with the bad types, having a ball, sleeping over with boy from 2nd floor. something like that, or something.

 

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/sergei24/>

tips about driving through the night

If you ever find yourself in the predicament of whether to ‘beat the traffic’ and drive headlong through the night for several hours in hopes of finding yourself at home in record time, by God do not do it. 

Unless you enjoy feeling like you are flying blindly trapped in a dark tunnel into the wee hours of the morning, talking to yourself and hallucinating up your very own three-ring circus, your limbs shaking and twitching and tapping from inhaling an entire Rockstar Roasted only hours prior (THE best energy drink by far, I would say), please take my advice.

I’m glad to have learned this lesson early while I am young and my body can still rebound from this sort of cruel and unusual abuse. After this six-hour long nightmare of a drive, from 11pm til 5am, I stumbled-shaking and muttering nonsense bits of swear words- into my front door, my eyes wild and every shadow morphing into gangs of menacing ghostly creatures. 

I shit you not. Save the long midnight drives for the truck drivers and crack-whores.

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/cmaraglio/>

reminiscing

i don’t know if any of you have looked at your kiddie pictures recently.. you know the ones you’re embarassed to show your friends, the ones where you’re wearing geeky coke-bottle glasses and spandex. (or maybe that was just me..) 
keep looking and see all the birthday parties and random snapshots- there you’re turning 9, now 13, now here’s one during your freshman year, with your trendy clothes on, looking excited about the 4 long years of high school ahead. Your best friend is turning 16 in this one, and in the next one it’s your turn. In each picture your face grows a little bit more mature, your smiles become less gleeful and more controlled, and the friends around you have changed their hair and taken on their own unique style. Years fly by with a quick turn of your wrist, with each photograph you see moments separated by years of time, and yet it all seems so short. Graduation now, your face is glowing and you are wreathed in flowers, and your parents stand beside you looking older than you’d remembered. What now? snapshots of the insane moments during your first year of college where you were too caught up in the moment to completely appreciate. Now you’re 18, 19, leaving your teens. What now? In a few years when your youth is almost spent and you find yourself lost in a stack of photographs, the journey of reminiscing from your geeky childish years to present will be just as fast, and you will still wonder where all the time went.

I don’t know how to say this in a way that will really hit home.. but time flies.. so insanely fast that sometimes i just want to dig my fingers into the ground and will time to stop for a second so i can make the most of my youth. time is like water slipping through your cupped hands, and in the blink of an eye you’ll have grown older and college will only be a fond memory. 
You’re in it now. you’re in it right now, you can feel it, taste it, this is college. this is what you will be looking back on fondly for years to come. Are you making the most of it? making it worth what little time you have left?

damn, time fucking flies.

 

<photo by my mother>

get it goin’ on

i think too much about life. that’s why i’m always coming up with ten cent revelations like “cling on to every second” and “live in each moment.” the truth is, the things i think about are just flashes of intense profoundness and meaning, and they are hauntingly beautiful and bittersweet moments, timeless and endlessly frightening.
it always happens when i’m alone and with my ipod, listening to some bittersweet unearthly song like Closer-Goapele, or Breathe-Tristan Prettyman. i walk the dog alone at night when the sunset is just barely fading, and i sit on a bench facing the bare stretch of lawn in a small clearing, and i torment myself and reminesce over the beautiful moments i had in the campus park as a freshman, feeling so free and careless, with nothing but the dark night around me, my ipod, this expansive field of grass stretched out before me, the campus glowing in the distance. 
the sun sets over this little condominium community.. and if i squint my eyes hard enough, it’s almost like i’m back there again, and the air feels cool and the night surreal and i’m in the middle of that park again. instead of dark little trimmed hedges at my side there are the bold blooms of tigerlilies, and instead of this little lawn there is a dark blue field running endlessly before me, like my whole life full of dreams. it feels like i’m spinning, and a dark night lit wildly with stars whirls and dances above me, and it’s almost like i’m back there again. my dorm sits snug and warm in it’s corner of the community on the opposite end of campus, and i can make my way back there whenever i wish. 
my suite is lit up, people have propped their doors open and i can hear laughter. my room is there, too, warmly glowing and overflowing rest and comfort. i never thought i’d ever have to leave that place, it feels almost like it never happened, i can’t believe i once took it for granted, living there.

“the path is long, and i’m moving closer to my dreams” goapele sings, and i see a winding road to my right, reflecting the sun’s fading rays.. and i see how short life is- this moment i’m in will soon be whisked away and lost. right now, about to embark on my sophomore year in college, it’s only a short glimmer, all the troubles i’m feeling now, my problems and stress, my emotions and anxieties, looking forward to a trip to Taiwan, sadness over holly leaving, everything. it’s but a short glimmer in a long life that passes too quickly. soon none of it will matter anymore and i’ll be moving on towards other things, my dreams, everything i’ve ever hoped for in my life. i have so much ahead of me, and yet i’m so caught up mourning over the best times of my life that have already passed. i want to, i want to always look ahead and not dwell in the past, but it seems like it will only make life go by faster, and i couldn’t bear to miss a moment.
i think too much. i’m walking back towards home, doots trailing along behind me. i’m walking down a tree-shaded path littered with patches of fallen cherry blossoms, and the sky peeping out under the branches is fading and colorless. i see my dad’s car parked by the street before me, and i get another profound flash, and for a split-second i’m completely bared in that moment, and i’m aware of everything, that very second of my dad’s car parked there, and i’m about to be a sophomore in college and this moment will never happen again. i’m going through life as though i’ve already lived it and i’m already reminiscing over moments that have barely happened. i can’t stand it, living life like this. i wish i didn’t think about life so damn much, but somehow i couldn’t bear it even more to be ignorant.
no more Closer-Goapele, or Breathe-Tristan Prettyman. i need more “Alive Again-Cher” in my life.

thanks, ipod. reminding me always of how much i have yet to look forward to..

‘I only want to keep the storm from rolling, i only want to learn to feel the rain.. then maybe i can stop the leaves from falling, i only want to learn to freeze the flame..
I know i’ll be Alive Again,
I want to be Alive Again’

Remember when we used to blast that song when ditching friday cell group, marie?? god, that was so exhilarating, thinking back on that. those were our first moments of liberating rebellion, when it seemed like it was just us against the world..

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/wyendrys/>

a bit of superficiality

will ferrell: is he the most annoying thing ever, or a comical genius? 

the answer is that he’s the most annoying thing ever. sure, he’s funny sometimes, when i’m feeling lightheaded and stupid, but mostly i just want to kill him..

mainstream music is going to the dogs. 

nicholas cage is a complete douche. he’s got 2 lazy eyes, an incomprehensible drawl like he’s just had a stroke, and an asian fetish. what a WANKER.

tom cruise and katie holmes need to die. 

i want to rip off ashlee simpson’s $10,000 facelift and flush it down a public toilet. hey ashlee- no one liked you when you were ugly, and the people who like you now just want to poke the rat cartilage implanted in your face.

..and that’s it for entertainment television tonight..!

 

back at school

so i’ve been here for about a week and a half now. almost every waking moment i have is being spent with someone, and the moments i am alone, i’m usually vegged out in front of the tv. it’s such a change- during summer i had so much alone time to just wander around and soak up that lonesome, surreal feeling of being your own company. at first it was depressing, but i learned to cherish those moments of being by myself. everything is in perspective, and time kind of melts away. i need that.

tomorrow morning i’m biking to campus with kate. she’s going to class, and i’m going to the library about a possible job. most likely i got it. it’s just the freakin library. and the rest of the day is mine!

don’t know where i’ll go, but that’s the grandest part.

time

mom’s moving to taiwan. my childhood’s over..   

sucks. soon my youth will be over. but i’m just being emo and dramatic right now.
i wish they would both move away, so i’d know they’re still together, at least. so i can miss both of them. and say, “i miss my parents.” and not, “i miss my mother, who currently lives halfway accross the world from my dad.”

this isn’t supposed to happen until i left college, until i was stable enough to stand on my own two feet, and push them away on my own terms.
they’re not supposed to just up and move away from me when i’m still 18. fuck.

theyre not “separating,” in that horrible sense of the word. its just that mom hates america and dad still has business here.

i’m just feeling clingy like i still want to hold on to my idyllic childhood when coming home from college would be met with two smiling parents. the traditional way..
but i guess everything changes. i guess that should have hit home when we moved out of the home of my childhood. we don’t get the american dream- we don’t get the mom and dad growing old together in the house they raised their children in. we dont get the visiting mom and dad once in a while as we take breaks from our rapidly accelerating lives. i don’t get the slow, gradual move to maturity. i have to be mature now. 

most of all i need to remember that everything happens for a reason, most of the time a good reason. we moved from our old house and found a wonderful cozy townhome that i truly love. dong dong died because it was past his time, and i needed to let him go and move on with my life. he was my childhood, and with each loss i suffer i grow. 

‘time can take its toll on the best of us,
look at you you’re growing old so young
Traffic lights blink at you in the evening,
Tilt your head and turn into the sun.’

 

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/amsterdamned/>

ah, seasons

seasons in southern california are like different worlds altogether. the fall and winter blend together- the mornings are hazy and chilly, and the nights are clear with cold winds. The whole cold period is generally unremarkable, except for those days when you forget to wear a jacket. then you really suffer.
then the city goes about changing its wardrobe- there is a period of about 2 weeks when the weather can’t seem to decide whether it should be cloudy or unbearably bright, and the clouds take turns blotting out the sun. me and kim sit beside ring road, proclaiming, ‘God loves us now!’ and ‘..aw, God doesn’t love us anymore.’
When spring finally sets in, i feel it first in my nose. it gets really itchy, and i immediately scramble for my allergy pills in preparation for the long months of pollen, dust, and heat. the mornings are greeted with cheerful sunlight, which grows in heat as the day progresses. and the nights become hauntingly beautiful- they are warm, and clear, and the bugs begin making those summery chirping noises. i’m tempted to just sit outside at night for hours and hours, reliving in my mind summers past. 
days like this everyone says how much they wish they were at the beach, instead of in class. but we’re not bitter- the campus is so beautiful on these sunny days, and as on the beach there is no shortage of scantily-clad chicks. 

This is the best time of year. we’re blessed with warm weather from morning to night, and coming home to change into basketball shorts and tanktops is pleasantly refreshing. everyone’s thoughts turn to the coming summer- of swimming pools and beaches, sunglasses, warm nights out and laughter with friends.

It enough to make all this routine worth it- even impending finals. Finals coop us up in apartments and stuffy libraries- but the weather outside is so full of promise, the aniticipation only builds up the pleasure we will soon feel when we are unleashed in a joyous, raucous mob of sleep-deprived college students.. into the sunlight and springtime and simple sweet bliss…

summer is coming!

 

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/steph_hu/>

public transportation

the bus stop in front of my campus is always abundant with crazies. it’s strange, because you never see crazy homeless people in this city, unless you’re at a bus-stop. they only ever pass through, they never stay. maybe they find this stiflingly perfect city unnatural, too. or maybe it’s because the cops are constantly picking them up and hauling them out to the neighboring city.

but the bus stop is nothing compared to inside the bus itself- it’s like a crazy exhibit at the homeless wacko museum. and literally, all the sane people line the sides of the bus facing inward, watching the schizo antics unfold. it’s sad, kind of. the people sitting next to me give each other meaningful looks of amusement as some middle-aged lady yells at the bus-driver. she’s wearing a raincoat, and it’s 90 degrees out. directly in front of me a man wearing reflective sunglasses and carting his entire life along with him in boxes has an enthusiastic conversation with the handrail. 
i have my headphones on, and i try not to stare. but every time i see people like this, i can’t help but wonder and imagine what they were like maybe 20-30 years ago, at christmastime or something. i wonder what they were like in high school, if they went to high school, before their minds decided to take a permanent vacation. i wonder what their classmates would think to see them as they are now. maybe theres pictures of them up on a mantle somewhere, in a group of family or friends, smiling.

 

<photo by http://www.flickr.com/photos/murplejane/>