save it for the morning after

2012-01-29T19:53:00.001-08:00

flight

2012-01-15T21:55:00.000-08:00

we escaped in a car
the color of sand
zipped through a town
made completely of wind

windows down
we bid our goodbyes
flew from the fence
to the rest of our lives

on the wings of an engine
a swell of stereo breath
carried us far
from the heaviness

I put my feet up
held your hand tight
and promised the morning
to stay by your side

strokes

2011-11-30T18:44:00.000-08:00

aims for the head
swift, clean, and merciless --
that's how they said
it would be

so catch your breath
feel the featherweight
light lines of rest
guide you to me

we hide, in a star-wreathed dusk
hold onto our sighing hearts
trace circles on the glass
of a memory

yes you and me
race through the lens, rush in the heartbeat
each time our eyes meet
that's how it will be

like strokes, just like they said
strokes of a blind man's hand
meeting eternity

travelers

2011-10-01T10:51:00.000-07:00

the murderess upstairs

sinks her ivory teeth

into the flesh of dreams,

and, embracing my disease,

strangers in my house

stretched hands out to meet

the hollow-hearted, magic man

whose mouth has ceased to bleed

but the road loves me more

than he can pen,

and words spill from hours

only when

the coast is closer to my heart,

and in my heart, we ebb and drift

vanish from the margins of a chart

where our vacant coordinates shift

I hear him traveling in my sleep,

and maybe, in that space I always knew

the gap between all moving parts

is what enables every part to move.

each day to the next

2011-09-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

this is what you were born to be awake for

watch the water; closer, closer
you cannot miss this
one glimpse, one chance to witness
all the questions

at the ember's core, curved like the ribs
of a predator
they advance and recede
upon your heaving shore

and hold you to the searchlight's gaze;
"you are afraid, you who lie awake
yet your simple eyes
say you never left
where do you go, then, each day to the next?"

weak

2011-08-27T19:42:00.000-07:00

are you alive

gripping the weapon

teeth bared

eyes open

tear through the night

destroy before

you let your heart

need anymore

they won't leave

and he won't love you

but I'm afraid

that's all I can do

you, eternally

2011-07-18T21:56:00.001-07:00

a sentence you have carelessly sown

took root in the soil where I sleep

feeding on false promises

of warmth and rain and plentiful dreams

I wait, wait, wait and wait for it

a better time to say, what if

but then you cast a line above my eyes

to catch the barren pieces of my mind

and expose the sand for what it is

dry earth where nothing lives

or dies, or changes, or leaves

you, eternally

my landscapes of wind and heat

bite and break and bleed and breathe

but you grew, soft and green

among the charred and the diseased

you, eternally.

summer was created for these lazy, sunlit weekdays

2011-07-09T20:43:00.001-07:00

All I want to do is sit around on the deck and watch Case Closed all freaking day

And that's basically what I've done all summer, aside from attending FBLA NLC in Orlando in June and spending every single weekend bumming around in my art teacher's garage.

I just want to be better than I've been.

Vignettes From the Sunshine Room

2011-06-13T23:04:00.000-07:00

I'm making a series. The 4th one is on the way...I have to entertain myself somehow when I'm home alone all summer.

Saturday

Recovery

She Wants Magic

It’s sort of a side project that I’m making just for fun, alongside all the assignments I make for practice.

They’re visual brain dumps, basically. They’re about my emotions, feelings, experiences, whatever, but they aren’t too specific; I’m not drawing diary entries. It’s just fun to have these; I drew the first and third last year. It’s interesting to look back on what I went through. Maybe someone else could relate.

Somehow, I don't feel triumphant

2011-06-11T11:05:00.000-07:00

Junior year flew by. I’ve experienced so many ups and downs since last September: good times, great times, shitty times.

And I feel like I should remember it more clearly, but I barely remember anything at all. I’m not even excited for the summer ahead; nor am I looking forward to the fall. I’ve hit a phase, I think, where I’m realizing that what I used to believe in isn’t worth believing in anymore. An emotional changing of the guard.

The year concluded before I was ready for it, but I don’t think I would have ever been ready for it. Now it’s just tedious, tedious. I’m tired of living in between places, figuratively and literally. I’m tired of struggling to keep the friends whom I know I don’t deserve. I’m tired of pushing myself to do better, to dream bigger, when I know that all those high ambitions will fly by me as I reach my own destination.

I’m not done; that’s the worst part. The hardest stretch is still ahead. And I’m tired: tired of making mistakes, of meeting the wrong people, of settling for things I’d never choose.

It’s just how it is this year.

2011-05-30T13:26:00.001-07:00

Instead of studying for the U.S. History SAT2

I chose to spend my morning eating Costco muffins and cutting up pre-college pamphlets lol

transportation

2011-05-29T22:45:00.000-07:00

Take one for the weekend;
the next town is so far from home.
One night only lasts until
the best of us find ourselves alone.

Your sunlit soul
floats down the glass-lined skyway;
in response to light,
careless leaves and tired girls sway

back and forth,
in between my eyes:
This heavy view of cheaper highs

If you can see them, then they might see you too;
No place to hide in the sunshine room.
They smell your fear, taste hunger on your breath
Wolves in your coldest caves, hunters in your head

feed on your roadside dreams,
a dirty species of prey
The lurid scenes
You revisit today

Until the moonshine lies
cold and still beside
your racing heart, your wrecking mind
and you brace yourself
for the killer's fight.

a;sldjalsjdal

2011-05-25T21:43:00.000-07:00

First period has officially disintegrated into a daily 55-minute dose of ramen-ingestation and watching Outsource.

I love this class mhmhmhmm

I just don't like her

2011-05-23T20:25:00.001-07:00

Wowwww everyone is giving me shit for hating on Sara Bareilles

I’m sure she’s a lovely, perfect human being

and I’ll admit that I’ve only ever heard maybe like 2 of her 1993 tragically awful songs, so I guess I’m not le Sarah B expert or anything

but she just turns me off. her voice is obnoxious, and I’m not a fan of those tough-mamacita/independent-woman/ you-ain’t-my-mother-so-don’t-TELL-me-what-do/ witty-feminist-victim-sensitive-poetess-full-of-attitude/ cliche-ass lyrics.

Maybe if I’d heard, say, Gravity first, I might have a more generous opinion of this passive-aggressive bitch

but King of Anything and Love Song were annoying enough to shatter my impression of her indefinitely

it’s like

are you really not gonna to write me a love song? bitch ain’t even cute you can KEEP your love song. No one needs it; don’t flatter yourself. Cher can do a better job anyway you piece of shit

the defiance is charming, until you hear the chorus 6 times and wonder if Ms. Bareilles actually expects you to give a fuck about her (oh, DAMN) refusal to write anything more meaningful than an overextended “nein”

and no one caresssss if you don’t want to listen to what people tell you to do. A sane, independent, and assertive young woman such as yourself should be able to calmly do your thang without flipping a straight shit and telling your bossy male counterpart to let you “hold his crown” while you metaphorically slaughter his dignity and tell your sob story of having spent 31 years hurting and hiding in the shadows of his chauvinistic glory.

the tune to King of Anything is also really annoying.

when you have those two lovely lyrical treasures under your belt, it can only hurt if you sing any more about fragile strength and standing tall. No one cares if you’re a frigid bitch. I applaud her self-assertiveness, but I ain’t gonna pay her for telling me alllll about it.

Sara Bareilles makes music that’s whiny and boring. Her rebel-against-sexist-mainstreamism lyrics are just immature and unbecoming of a woman her age. All that tough-talk aimed towards an unidentified, universal “you” is just fucking annoying AND THAT IS WHY

I just don’t like Sara Bareilles.

2011-05-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

You've found a place to hide from them

that fragile dream, that buried gem

of a good idea, of time well spent

of a hellish year when we were friends

You've found your place among your kind

an extended family with closer ties

who can give you all the warning signs

before you really lose your mind

Simple facts; that's all it is

the teflon pans and non-stick lids

of a mundane life you chose to leave

for your sharp-ribbed jaws and your dying kids

Would it hurt - yes, it would hurt

to tell your friends that you aren't sure

of who you are and who you were

the distance from point A to B is all you can infer

I think you're used, so second-hand

so evasive and so in demand

you are edges, sides, and tangent lines

blood is thin, you understand.

tactile

2011-05-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

a house, made of blue

a tactile hue

soft piece of sky

of Caribbean waves

close your eyes

and run your hands

across this landscape

of dusk and light

this is a shore

covered in people

pink, melting forms

holding the sun

I'm lying there

that warm somewhere

water and sand,

and stratosphere

do you see it?

in the flowers

will you complete it?

this house of ours

here's a line for your book

2011-04-30T21:19:00.000-07:00

I'm not good with words,

but there's a show worth seeing

so put this in your plans,

a faster form of feeling:

a roadside attraction,

primitive and fleeting;

yes, you may leave when it gets dark

I haven't seen the girl

who mixes all your drinks

but I can hold those glasses

while you pause and smile and think;

here's a line for your book,

an author for your evening

conscientiously deceiving

you know, I like the way you look

at me, across the aisle

but you're costly;

I can't afford that smile, so don't

beam so brightly

I couldn't shine even half as well

I'm afraid that she's not in your life

to be unlike herself

but I'm certain I'm no similar

recreational hazard to your health

so think about it,

and please, please take your time;

I have passivity; you have the best of me

and I would love to share my love

lampshades

2011-04-22T22:50:00.000-07:00

sleepless again, I wait patiently,

lie on my side, pretend that

you're with me

soft-eyed hours, spent above the line;

with pencil and paper,

I reclaim what's mine

this is you, and this is me tonight

two dimensional, rendered in

black and white

and maybe this is us,

but I would hate to lie;

you are safer here,

kept behind my eyes

no, I won't let you sink

into facile scores

I won't let you fade

into vague contours

sleepless again, I watch the lightworks leave

I hear the drifters sigh, I feel you holding me

open windows weep, alone beneath the trees

dream a different dream, reach up to catch the breeze...

I felt summer floating just above the clouds;

I sat through evenings from a different year.

I saw you smiling from across the crowds,

and I knew that I once had you near.

a few more years

2011-04-05T22:13:00.000-07:00

when the rooms cease to spin

as you lie on your side

the sunset in your skin

will bleed into your eyes

but we can wait, when we're older

to adjust, to decide

until then, we won't need

to face the things that we can hide

someday, we might see

past amplitude, past victory

and I will trace your aging smile

reflect your every crease

but we can wait, when we're older

to adore, to be safe

until then, rest your head

in that lonely, sunlit place

and we can wait, when we're older

to surrender, to explain

until then, we may choose

to forgive and to abstain

here's to all the flowers

2011-03-27T22:45:00.000-07:00

here's to all the flowers

who refuse to bloom tonight:

may you fold inside your petulance

and disintegrate beside

the catacombs of my beloved ones

where you shriek and pull your hair;

the quiet place is never far

enough from anywhere

you must think you are so wise

to remain so undeterred

by the sylphs that come and cry

for your lilting, shallow words

but you are only young

once every several years,

and nothing tastes so good

as do those sinful fears

you flowers love to pray

to gods who love to play

and send your heartless hopefuls

to fatigue within the fray

this is what it must be like

to be so reckless and so slight,

so cloying and so tedious;

all flowers charm and none excite.

Thank you, Ivymax college essay workshop,

2011-03-23T18:55:00.000-07:00

for reminding me of how incredibly mundane I am.

I can’t think of a single thing that makes me unique.

I’m not involved in the community, I’ve never acquired leadership skills, I don’t play a sport, my only talent is procrastination, my favorite pastimes are rolling in bed and checking Facebook, I haven’t been out of the country in like 9 years, I don’t have anything to say about Lewis Carroll or Barbie dolls, I have no opinion concerning Obamacare or tax brackets, I don’t care about Libya, I haven’t subscribed to the Wall Street Journal, I eat animals and reject organized religion, the most philosophically profound movie that I have ever watched was March of the Fuckin Penguins, I didn’t know who Nietzsche was until this year, I have never witnessed poverty, I live in an high-income neighborhood filled with curry-ingesting 2nd-gen software engineers, and I’m not observant enough to recognize the massive intellectual experiences that punctuate my day-to-day routine.

I’m worried.

ever felt like

2011-03-22T19:20:00.000-07:00

I don’t know what’s up with me anymore

I’m wearing myself out trying to find distractions, but in the end, I’m still running on empty. I think that I’ll want something until I finally get it, and then I realize that it was worthless all along.

I gave up on the only thing that had really ever meant anything to me; it’s hard to find meaning elsewhere.

I used to believe in this, but I don’t know what I believe in anymore. It’s awful when the people closest to you grow distant, but it’s even worse when you realize that you’ve simply stopped wanting them to ever be as close again.

I thought things would be simpler

but everything I’ve been doing lately - none of it feels sincere. I wonder where I went.

2011-03-16T15:34:00.000-07:00

please,

choose to stay

if only

to hear me say,

"please don't go."

could be better

than I've been

couldn't I

Graffiti is the purest form of art because the artist does not get recognition for his/her work. Therefore, there is no monetary gain to it nor a gain in fame, making graffiti solely an expression of self. What do you think?

2011-03-14T23:43:00.001-07:00

That argument is based upon two gigantic assumptions, neither of which I agree with.

First: it assumes that graffiti is art. (You say the "artist", as opposed to the "vandal".) The vast majority of graffiti has no aesthetic value. Scribbles on the bathroom door, a 12-second stylization of profanity on the side of a U-haul, vulgar little doodles on a picnic table; all of that is graffiti and none of that is "art".

Second: it assumes that graffiti "artists" receive no recognition for their work. Is that true? What about gang symbols? What about Keith Herring? Art is never voiceless.

I don't believe that graffiti is solely an expression of self. Graffiti comes in too many forms to be solely anything. Inspired street artists have made magic on pavement, but self-absorbed shitheads armed with spray paint and disrespect have covered up beautiful murals. Graffiti is often destructive, frequently obscene, and nearly always lacking in any visual or conceptual worth.

So, no. I don't agree.

please do not be profane in the presence of the pope

2011-03-08T16:07:00.001-08:00

how do you cope with loss?

2011-03-06T23:19:00.001-08:00

lol
I don't really understand what loss means

Humans like to believe that they can possess all sorts of complicated stuff, like love, or a pet, or a family, or a beautiful experience. Really, though, none of those things were ever ours to begin with.

It's just chance and choice working in our favor that we get to meet who we meet and do what we do. I guess I just don't think loss should be taken very...personally.

People leave. There's no reason. And there's rarely an alternative. They just leave. Did you expect anything else to happen? You don't own them.

Life ends. It just does. There's no reason. Just because you loved him or her or it doesn't mean he or she or it will be any less susceptible to death. God isn't floating above the roof tiles looking for souls to drag away; life just terminates. There's no logic and there's no meaning.

Happiness expires. It just does. There's no cure for loneliness, and there's no vaccine for heartache.

I mean, I can kind of understand desire. But people love to hoard up these imaginary, abstract ideas of what belongs to them, and they're torn to pieces when they realize that they never owned any of it, anyway.

If you never had it, it's not worth feeling like you've lost it when you finally notice its absence. There's no meaning behind "loss". It's just sentimentality and self-denial.

So I guess I don't really care.

please do not be profane in the presence of the pope

every moment that I knew

2011-03-03T22:19:00.001-08:00

I think I see the flaws

When I stand between these tiles,

And I recognize the loss

Of a Sunday's sovereign smiles

I've filled my room with all the thoughts

Of afternoons spent far across

The phonetics of our feeble knots,

Every moment that I knew.

The words that I chose to retain,

The images that still remain:

A lilac-scented heartbeat summer's day

The better part comes later,

But the best part came too late, and now

I've noticed my mistakes:

Too dear, too soon

I'll keep it quantitative,

Count the hours I have wasted,

Kill the birds and learn to save it

For the quiet days ahead

And maybe, in a different year,

The clarity will disappear,

And I will close my eyes, oblivious

feelings, from best to worst

2011-02-26T17:17:00.001-08:00

infatuation

accomplishment

satisfaction

vengeance

anger

irritation

anxiety

tedium

melancholy

disappointment

heartbreak

loneliness

after dark

2011-02-21T12:56:00.000-08:00

timid eyes blink in well-lit rooms

unaccustomed to the night,

and hungry minds will shy away

from that bloated tier of light

hot-blooded creatures will make their homes

and stare at those alone;

faces pressed up to the glass,

they mistake us for their own

but you and I belong to the emptiness,

the dark-rimmed evening child;

we dreamers lie on the gentle field,

in a room both vast and wild

how could their soft and simple hearts

encompass all we know?

secret senses that we both possess

deep within our heavy souls

this lightness, this affinity

for the broken lines we step across

direct our weightless bodies to

join the lonely and the lost

Tuesday eyes

2011-02-16T17:01:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine, and yes,

just a friend, he says:

I think I loved you best

when your hair was big,

and your voice was small

and I wish I'd loved you less

when you threw yourself

against another wall

Oh, he can wink and jest,

and you reciprocate;

love is convenient

if you love that way

but I love you best

wearing your Tuesday eyes -

that color suits your dress;

that madness suits your vice

I think I loved you best -

then he paused and said,

If I could find the time,

I'd find you instead.

screenshot for anon

2011-02-16T16:20:00.001-08:00

my desktop

endless love

2011-02-15T16:55:00.000-08:00

kites and birds

share the sky

why can't I

speak for them

wasted youth

promise me

you won't leave me

while I sleep

one more year

preach your truth

paint my heart

in simple hues

featherweight

rows of two

endless love

me and you

differences

2011-02-11T16:31:00.000-08:00

strange, how it scares me

to memorize your lines

the angles of your edges,

the shapes of your signs

I'm frightened by the words,

the voice, the way

your heart chose to change,

and the reasons, re-phrased

I covered my ears

to drown out the fray

and denied you were here

to ever delay

the suffix and prefix

from separating,

the lesser of two

deteriorating

too soft, we cried,

for believing in beauty;

the corners cut back

for trusting in time

strange, how lonely

the silence becomes;

the system is here,

and the difference is none.

birds

2011-02-03T17:22:00.000-08:00

don't look down, he says,

the rush is worth the fear.

we are birds tonight;

tonight, we disappear.

he smiles, only theory,

but I believe it; do you?

standing here, you see it:

the moment and the cue.

close your eyes, he says,

the edge was never there.

you won't feel the fall;

we already stand on air.

what he did not say,

we both felt as though,

the full weight of the sun

had slid into our throats.

belong

2011-02-01T17:44:00.000-08:00

aching hearts are pushing through

to aid the frightened and the few

I broke my fingers trying to

hold on to you, hold on to you

heavy phrases fell into young hands

soft eyes, you must try to understand

everyone I see,

everyone's alone

but you belong to me;

I'll keep you for my own.

the scenic route to the madhouse

2011-01-17T20:05:00.000-08:00

little veins swell

caustic violet and wine

even red, for the flower

that blooms from the soiled

girls

in their blacks, their whites

especially of the eyes

rolling

in twin apertures

the slack-jawed mouths of the psyche

whites

of the legs, an interesting species

of muscle and bone, vertical and bent

standing and

walking

and folding,

with the occasional fall

whites

of the hands, thin rhythmic fingers

expressive, halting

inviting

joined to the wraiths, arms,

by the wrists, each bearing

blue naked trees

I watch the girls

the white girls, in their black

their red and raw

dove-children

with twisted necks

lips parted,

they are watching me, too

the girls are like flowers

in a glass;

they bloom a handsome red

shy

2011-01-17T19:39:00.000-08:00

you remind me of

summers well spent

two photographs

of Saturdays when

the black afternoon

condescended to hold my hand

and if you carry one,

you can carry two

my God, how

the frightened doves croon;

the evening is yours

ours, and theirs

sweatshirt

2011-01-14T16:21:00.000-08:00

I made this last night cause I had nothing better to do (lies. I should have been writing my TASP essays)

it’s drawn with fabric paint markers + stencils

it says “we should eat cake”.

cause like, my mom bought german chocolate cake last night, but she wouldn’t let me have any since it was already late T-T

2011-01-11T17:15:00.000-08:00

start with the details,

the location and the date,

the time, the name of the diner,

the uncontested facts

the side of a face,

attentively laid out

on a ceramic plate

in the form of a hue

of a shade

and cross-hatched

across your heart,

thirty-five pulses apart,

my name, in your arteries

and veins.

omegle in the morning

2011-01-04T08:54:00.000-08:00

-----------------------------

I've been getting a lot of questions about the illuminati.

2011-01-03T23:28:00.001-08:00

where do you picture yourself in 5 years? in 10? how about 40?

2011-01-01T23:03:00.001-08:00

In 5: hum...I'll be 21...I don't know. Probably in some shitty east-coast art school, chilling with delicious gay men and wasting both my youth and my parents' money. possibly inhaling turpenoid fumes, getting skin cancer, and eating canned peaches because I will be dirt poor once tuition takes over my immigrant savings.

In 10: hmm 26...unemployed. It's depressing, but I've given it serious thought and that's usually where I end up - eating my canvas and kicking myself for not going into biotech. Or I might be married and living someplace nice, self-employed or working at a design firm. I don't know whatever

in 40: well I've obviously won the lottery by then, so you can expect that I'm somewhere nice. I'm probably sipping pina coladas on the xiaolin fucking mountains and enjoying the view. Or I could be dead. accidents happen. but most likely I'm just retired and enjoying myself.

the aliens have attacked, and this is your last flippin chance to ask me a question

these dreams, they stay

2011-01-01T11:40:00.000-08:00

untitled(for now) / acrylic / I’m not sure what the size is exactly, but I’d guess it’s roughly 26” x 36”
FINALLY DONE.

ahaha, I’m a little over-excited about this one, I know, but I’ve worked on it for 2 months now and I’ve spent god-knows how many hours repainting entire sections cause I wanted everything to be just right

I really, really tried not to cut corners on this one; I have a habit of doing so.

I think the reason why I was so, so into this particular painting is because it’s based off a drawing I made in middle school. That drawing was really unlike all the other stuff I drew back then, so finding it while flipping through my old sketchbooks was like a nice surprise, I guess. Cause it’s so very like something I would do now.

This is the original ink+graphite drawing that I made and based my painting off of. Totally wack cause everything else I did back then was like...Naruto and Ham-fuckin-taro. (and to explain the title of this post, I wrote "the dreaming" on the back of the original drawing. So I guess that this is just the continuation of that dream.)

so this had a lot of like...sentimental value, I guess. It was just weird. it’s still not as great as I wanted it to be, but I feel like this is finished.

Goodbye, 2010

2010-12-30T22:38:00.001-08:00

This year, I have lost a friend, accumulated others, and fallen in love (possibly multiple times). I have laughed until I cried, and I have cried until I laughed. I have lost and regained hope, more than once. I have rediscovered a part of myself that I thought I had lost. I have acquired new insights, characteristics, and habits. I have been good, and I have been awful. I've made mistakes, plenty of them. I have been diligent, and I have been lazy. I've worked my ass of to achieve certain goals, and I have sat and moped about not being able to achieve others. I have thought carefully, and I have been rash. I have been cooperative as well as stubborn. I have disobeyed authority and committed minor (I repeat: minor) felonies. I have witnessed the most hilarious things, and I have found myself in the most ridiculous circumstance. I have pushed the limits to create new ones. I have come to an understanding with myself (for now). I have changed, perhaps for the better but probably for the worse. I have learned my lesson and subsequently forgot it. I have been communicative, and I have been silent. I have been upbeat and morose. I have recognized pieces of myself in the characters of others. I have influenced (at least, I hope so), and I have been influenced. I have sang horribly. I have stumbled upon great works of literature and beautiful music. I have been irresponsible and positively frumpy. I have changed my mind. Again. I have purchased clothes; I have cleaned my room. I have spent my money on the wrong things. I have lied to the people I love because I am not ready to love myself. I have been angry (incredibly so), and I have turned my back on reconciliation. I have chosen not to finish what I'd started, and maybe I was wise to do so.

So was my year a good one? Hell, my year was perfect. I wouldn't give up these memories for anything. Sure, there were details that I could do without, but that's life, you know? That's as good as it gets. You'd think that a year is a long time, but this one came and went, just like that. Looking back, only the biggest things stand out to me anymore. But every moment - I lived it. Even the little ones. And I say that I hope to never forget these things, but I know that I eventually will. Still, I hope to always have two things to look back on: the summer and the one person who really changed my life this year. If I could have those two memories to keep, then 2010 would be truly meaningful. I don't believe in God, so I guess I must thank Chance instead for everything great that happened. God gives and takes away, but I hope that Chance will let me be happy for a little longer. And he isn't here with me right now, but I hope that he is here to stay. I hope that in 2011, I won't be so afraid to be sincere, and that I will have the guts to be disappointing. I hope that I will laugh and cry just as I have this year (though hopefully with more laughs and fewer tears). I hope to always remember that love is a wonderful thing, and that forgiveness may be even better. I hope that I will have the brains to keep myself safe, and that I will have trustworthy friends in case I don't. I hope to face adversity with something more concrete than a stomach full of butterflies. And to be perfectly cliche, I hope to always get up one more time than I can expect to fall down. I hope to never forget what amazing is, or fail to imagine what it could be. I hope to never be ungracious, unoriginal, or unfair. I plan to never plan, but I do plan to make my own choices. I plan to love, yell, bleed (figuratively, of course), and have fun. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? I suppose every year is the same old shit, just fresher. When I look back at this, I wonder if I'll feel accomplished.

Is she as good of an actress as all the rumors say?

2010-12-28T15:16:00.001-08:00

here, there is no romance

and kisses taste alike

love is a folded card,

a monotone delight

and I am the simplest sentence

you could care to construct

that is my simplest defense

that is my standard conduct

I am a series of nouns

Person, place, idea, or thing

I am a series of verbs

linguistics, syntax, meaning

It must be wise to be so common.

It must be harmless, at least

Harm is what we're afraid of,

And we're afraid, aren't we?

Is she as good of an actress

As all the rumors say?

She is surely in distress

if she can make you stay

you listless itinerant

you are quite like me

the phrase is short

the heartbreak is sweet,

and we are both indifferent

because we are both naive

a;lsdjaks

2010-12-25T22:26:00.001-08:00

I am trapped in my bedroom because the adults are being festively drunk and embarrassing out in the living room. There isn't much to do and I'm too tired to do anything other than doodle.

I drew this in the car today leaving SFO. My webcam obliterated the linework quite nicely.

christmas!

2010-12-25T21:07:00.000-08:00

ho ho ho

I am in a food coma.

My parents' friend from college visited today from Australia; we drove to SFO at 7 a.m. to pick him up, and we spent the entire day in San Francisco. It was raining super hard, but it was his first time in the U.S., so we were all happy troopers and took him to see the bridge, the bay, Pier 39, Chinatown, etc. I ate my weight in dim sum and fish&chips.

What I want to do one of these days is to just walk around the city. I'm so sick of all the usual touristy places; I just want to aimlessly explore for a day, preferably with friends. I saw the most interesting little places while we were driving around. Wish we had the time to stop and take a closer look.

Anyway, I hope everyone had a nice Christmas :)!

new stencils!

2010-12-22T18:33:00.001-08:00

I've always wanted to make this. Teehee ^_^

My favorite parts of the lyrics for "Missing Piece" by Voxtrot.

Sitting in front of my bathroom painting shirts and shit.

Afternoon well spent.

I bought new stencils today; they were just $1 per set! They're plastic and reusable.

also, Avery made me a log cake!!!!

FUCKIN YES

It's a chocolate frosting bomb, basically

I'm not sure I can eat it

but doesn't it look fantastic?

is it too late to compose a Christmas list?

2010-12-22T12:51:00.000-08:00

Three days left. (Does anyone else think it's strange? I wonder if Jesus saw this coming, that little agnostic Chinese girls in California would be celebrating his 2010th birthday. Or that FM 96.5 would start non-stop heralding his arrival the minute Thanksgiving ends.)

I don't expect to check off this list any time soon...but here it is, just in case Santa wants a reference sheet when he visits my house on the 25th :)

1. Yellow Fish Bag by PopKiller

2. Frozen Smiles Ice Cube Tray by PopKiller

3. 5-Year diary from Fred Flare

4. Look! It's Jesus from Fred Flare

5. Urawaza: Tips and Tricks from Japan from Fred Flare

6. 3" Champage Bottle Earrings from GirlProps

mh.

2010-12-21T23:06:00.000-08:00

my baby is a bjillion flippin miles away :(

I just finished cleaning my room :)!

orrrr well. 1/8 of it anyway. I organized my clothes today. It's a pretty daunting task, seeing that my chairdrobe is maybe 4 times the size of my wardrobe. I realized for the first time how many clothes I have. It's like...disgusting. I really need to limit myself to buying only things that I'll be sure to wear.

♫ winter break is boring as fuck ♫

I'm donating a gigantic pile, and shipping the rest to my little cousin. (She's 11 (?) and positively rotund, so I doubt she'll like them very much.)

I think clothes are starting to turn me off. I'm like...immune to trendy. Window shopping used to fun, but now I'm in a phase where everything looks gross, and I'd be fine with just wearing jeans and frumpy wholesale T-shirts for the rest of my life. Honestly, I'm becoming some sort of wardrobe ascetic.

Ugh god

my closet is like a gaping, multicolored mouth of consumerism

and it annoys the shit out of me.

sleepwalk

2010-12-17T23:50:00.000-08:00

He was here with me, maybe yesterday

I remember it, but baby, it was late

By then, the walls were shy,

The chair was winking, and I --

Maybe I'd been dreaming after all.

Drinks were spilled, and voices ran the course

Of arteries from which the young blood pours

My shaking knees, soft fleeting pleas

Lilting, foreign phrases of those who choose to speak

That secret idiom of repose:

The dark-eyed language of my dreams

He wrote his name on both my arms

With his Victorinox and his pen

He kissed my hair and stood to leave

I let him leave as I'd let him in

I spent the evening by the window

Tried my best to not let the pain show

I heard the walls scream, heard the doors close,

And I let the hour kill my weak prose

The morning light is a shade too bright

For this pale degree of June

The waning sunrise uncovers my eyes

As I sleepwalk to my room

unreal versus surreal

2010-12-03T18:15:00.000-08:00

thin fingers are blue,

the permanent hue

of your lonely eyes

families, calling from the other room

the walls between them warp and change

press your ear against the door

close both eyes and ignore

the silence you no longer think is strange

"leave everything,"

the voices in the woodwork sigh

"tomorrow brings

only reasons for you to cry."

the floor is soft

and warm in the sun

lie with me --

why stand and fight

gravity?

don't you see?

you are safe when you are down.

get down stay down

2010-12-03T15:40:00.000-08:00

All things considered, I should be happier than I am.

I'm making everything difficult, and I can't stop.

I want to be nice. And organized and motivated and simple, especially. I'm trying so hard. I want to be positive and driven and happy, like I used to be.

I don't know what's wrong. Nothing's changed, but everything is different. I'm imagining so much shit, and I don't know why I do this to myself.

It's almost

obsessive.

December will be unkind

2010-12-01T17:19:00.000-08:00

I paved this road for you and I

So destinations could exist

I laid these stones,

These solemn tiles

The debris beneath these bricks -

Parts of me

You would never need, otherwise

I built this house to shelter us

These concrete walls

This metal fence

I split the wood with my bare hands,

Pressed the knife between my teeth

And held it there

I made our mistakes

So you would remain safe

Kept a secret for you,

In my heart

There's one for me, too

Listen, sweetheart,

The view from here is nice, I understand

And you wonder what it's like

Well, I've seen all there is to see outside

And the snow is not so clean nor bright

You can't feel the wind bite through the glass

But let me tell you now, it does

Stay here with me; I'll keep you warm and dry

Face the fire, darling, don't waste your pretty eyes

Staring at the door

I see, you've already left me behind.

My dear,

December will be unkind.

Thanksgiving break, in summary:

2010-11-28T10:48:00.000-08:00

Four completely unremarkable days.

On Thanksgiving itself, I slept in until noon and fasted for the larger part of the day (all according to the ancient rites that dictate what one must do during short, festive vacations), then pigged the fuck out around 5:00 P.M. and ate my weight in cod fillet, Peking duck, beef stir-fry, braised chicken, and lobster chunks. (No turkeys. Stay true to your roots.)

Oh, and before dinner, my family drove up to the north-bay house and nailed in a whole bunch of wood planks against the backyard gate because someone had tried to bust in last week. Now it will take a fucking dump truck to mow that thing down. We also patched up the fence ("we" being my dad. I was sitting in a lawn chair reading The Age of Innocence while trying not to freeze and my mom was just hovering.)

After dinner, my family watched Winter's Bone, this creepy movie about white trash crank cookers living out in the woods. Great acting. I am forever terrified of rednecks.

Then my parents invited people over for beer and spaghetti westerns. I hate being near middle-aged people who smile too much and tell me that I'm either 1) pretty or 2) smart and then go home and compare me to their own spectacular kids. So I went hermit-mode in my room and painted from 9:00 to 1:00. Felt good.

On Friday, my mom dragged us all to Barnes & Noble. She's trying to program an iPhone app. My dad was bored out of his mind. So we drove home early and went for a 3.6 mile run. It was COLD

Yesterday, my mom and I went to B&N (leaving my dad behind so he can play online go alllllll afternoon) and I ruptured my cerebellum tackling calculus problems and whatever. Afterwards we went to McDonalds, and later still we went to Target for face wash, chocolate, and flannel shirts.

And today I am lying in bed waiting for absolutely nothing to happen. Again.

This is what happens when all of my friends are preoccupied with large families and enjoyable plans. I am so, so tired of being around my parents.

I hate arguing with my parents over the nutritional value of food. omfg.

2010-11-28T10:41:00.000-08:00

Last week, my dad told me that string beans are like miracle vegetables that can cure kidney failure and a half-dozen other disorders. We had fucking string beans for dinner EVERY DAY.

Recently, my dad and I started arguing over the health benefits of a green onion diet. My mom joined in and told me this ridiculous story of how a woman forced her twin sons (for no fucking reason) to live in separate fields. One son ate only green onions for a year and the other ate only cantaloupes. The son who lived in the cantaloupe field was emaciated by the end of the year, while the son who ate only green onions grew strong and healthy. My mom was using this story as factual evidence in support of the green onion's amazing nutritional properties.

So naturally, I go on nutriondata.self.com in search of more feasible proof. Turns out, 1 stalk (12g) of green onion contains only 3 calories, 10% of vitamin A (as required by a 2,000 calorie diet), 9% of vitamin C, 1% of calcium and 1% of iron. Which is relatively little, seeing that 1 medium strawberry (1.25" diameter, also 12 g) contains 4 calories and 12% of vitamin C.

I show my dad my findings, but since the data is from an English website, he pretends to not be able to understand it and insists on researching from some sketch Chinese blog.

The Chinese blog, of course, is all about eastern medicine and it goes on and on about how green onions are packed full of antioxidants and can regulate blood sugar levels, prevent vasoconstriction, and improve blood flow and calcium intake. They also help regulate the digestive system and stimulate the pancreas. And they keep your Chi balanced so no part of you becomes inflamed and falls off.

So my dad comes to the conclusion that, since people need a far larger variety of nutrients than vitamins and minerals and that a body's chemical needs are far too complex for western medicine to encompass, he'd rather believe the blog.

So now I'm gonna have to munch on green onions for the next month or so.

Okay I hate eastern medicine.

2010-11-15T16:40:00.000-08:00

They constructed streetlights

to light up all this dark space

there are constant reasons

to always keep a straight face

Why are you still crying?

Stand closer to me, please.

Oh, why are you still trying?

I've brought you to be at ease

And to see the heavy mountains

sparkling like they're cheap

to see the copper sunshine

wane until it's weak

To see the night fall

over everything we've built

to see the cold front

destroy the house we tried to fill

with a pair of tender hearts

and glowing coals of love

the stove-tops mirrored stars

I thought it was enough

I stood on the shelf,

rocking back and forth

While weeping to myself

and I knew what it was worth

But I couldn't understand,

so I kept the tears inside

He told me that I am

Ugly when I cry

why are we running?

2010-11-09T18:06:00.000-08:00

outside, we're racing again

forward, you're pulling my hand

faster

thin skin, eyes closed

the cold nails

scratching down my throat

the wind is almost in my head

it's so close

and the ground beneath our feet:

an instant of concrete

a measurement of time

before our air-lined bodies meet

where are we now

and why are we running

if nothing is wrong here, as you say

the soft-eyed being is behind us

somewhere the dark

the static thing that follows

every footstep of your heart

You are frightened and impaired

too honest to have cared

too enamored by the speed

that our imperfection shared

and I am a ceaseless movement

every wasted second,

every minute that we spend

living to exist

and existing to pretend.

here's something from my tumblr

2010-11-08T19:00:00.000-08:00

I thought it deserved a place on my rant blog as well :)

whatitdowhathey:

sheepinacan:
Are you fucking serious? Did you really just say “Chinktown?”
No. I don’t care that you’re Asian, that you were born in an Asian country and lived there until you were eight, I don’t give a shit. It’s fucking offensive to say “chink” and “sucky sucky five dorra” and whatever the fuck it is you think is so fucking funny now. It was racist when people first started saying it and it’s still racist.
God dammit I hate teenagers.
I MEAN REALLY.

Okay, ready for the ranting?

But my dear, it’s only offensive if you attach an offensive connotation to the word. Don’t bust a nut. Just laugh it off. Think of it as an evolution of language, a sort of cultural “coming-of-age” which will allow us to be free from silly things like verbal racism. The less seriously we take these shallow-minded remarks, the less racist they will inherently become. You dropped the F-bomb an awful lot in that wonderfully heartfelt passage - what makes such obscenities anywhere near okay? You probably don’t care; the word “fuck” feels like a perfectly ordinary thing to say, doesn’t it? Just because it isn’t attacking any specific demographic doesn’t make it any more appropriate or any less offensive than “chinktown”. It’s the frequency with which we use it that makes the term mundane (and therefore harmless). Think about it.

2010-11-03T17:20:00.001-07:00

awake in my head,

I live only to exist

redefine ourselves

from one moment to the next

the living is warm;

I hoped he could clean me

replace all I've lost

with coherency and meaning

man, this weekend

2010-10-30T23:54:00.000-07:00

Friday night was so great. Why can’t birthdays happen more than once a year? I swear, we got no sleep. Three cheers for projectors and horror films!

Watching Silence of the Lamb playing on the ceiling of Yi’s living room was fairly sweet. Waking up to Panera and Starbucks wasn’t so bad either ;)

I took a 6 hour nap when I got home, and now I can’t sleep at all! So very worth it.

My throat started hurting again when I woke up from my nap, so I guess I’ll be staying in for Halloween this year. That’s fine; I have 584848 tons of homework to finish :x

I miss my boyfriend, ehehe

fight fight fight fight

2010-10-29T18:12:00.000-07:00

I did what I could, it was a mediocre best

We're insane and can't be cured;

I put your fiction to the test.

The way we live is best described

As a race before the waiting grave

And the only hope for feeling ill

Is knowing that it doesn't stay

You need me, and I need this too much

Well, the winter's here to liberate the two of us.

We'll stay up and burn the city

Share the glory and the blame;

It's cold enough to strike a match, now,

Between gasoline and flame

You and I, we stood apart

In the ashes from the night before

You closed your hands around my heart,

But I couldn't feel it anymore.

we traced the continent with our fingertips

2010-10-24T14:27:00.000-07:00

leave with me, you sleepless soul

I will walk with you

One last time, around the floating lake.

Pretend, just for an hour,

that we never changed.

Link your fingers with mine.

You feel the same, I know.

two hands holding hands

are still two empty hands.

warm and cold again

2010-10-23T23:51:00.000-07:00

Acrylic, 10"x16"

I decided to paint something real quick. Wanted to take my mind off things :)

There are days when

2010-10-22T23:57:00.002-07:00

everything would be easier if I shed 12 pounds
if I worked harder.

if I cared less.

I suppose it’s seasonal. GOD. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

I thought we would all be beautiful by now

2010-10-21T16:57:00.000-07:00

I'm lonely, and it's raining

in some corner of the world.

I'll sleep now, yes I'll sleep now

In my subterranean house.

I probably won't dream

I never think of anything;

my subconscious is the same.

I think I know myself.

Do you want the lights on?

I think I prefer to rest my eyes

Do you want to talk, love?

I haven't any words tonight

(well, no. that's a lie.)

The implosion in my chest

is just difficult to describe.

I'm a selfish, impatient wreck,

too indifferent to be nice.

Just hold me,

I want you to hold me,

I think.

Are you feeling like yourself?

Am I ever someone else?

you and I and nothing else

2010-10-20T19:27:00.001-07:00

Let's go live in a lake house, preferably somewhere cold.

Let's get lost in the woods, just the two of us,

and leave everything behind.

Yours and Mine

2010-10-18T23:52:00.001-07:00

He turned to me and sighed; I felt winter on his breath
The chill was frost beneath his words, and I was lost inside the mess.
Washed up on the shore of the lake that were his eyes,
I watched the snow recede; I watched the water rise

I held my bloated heart as it pulsed against the signs,
And I watched it bleed between the soft, unspoken lines
But I know these hungry hands are yours as well as mine:
Reaching through the bars towards the pale and unconfined

He turned to me and sighed; I saw the sentence write itself:
A simple nothing lost, a lonely carousel
Spinning through the evening, the lights blink one by one;
Painted wooden horses with nowhere left to run

He turned to me and sighed, as the air turned hard and bright,
Caught between our lungs and the empty, silent night
The vacuum took our words as it cleared away the grime,
And we stood without our voices at the scene of the crime.

let's tear up the walls

2010-10-14T16:11:00.001-07:00

a song for today.

last night, as we sat beneath
an incandescent sky,
I felt him turn and say to me,
"the minute hand and I

have reached the end of our respective roads;
I believe you understand.
the lights never go out, but I know
there's a dark place where we can

hide the weak
and bury the dead;
I've heard it said, and better yet,
close your eyes and picture it:
a sunlit space for our clumsy words to fit --

a cold, clean slate for the two of us
a sunshine state and a midnight bus
will take us far - right to the edge
kick the rocks and pray to God that we may live

this way, this way to safety
above the water, seven stories high
where we'll sleep safely,
dreaming by radio wave and angry tide,
knowing that tomorrow won't arrive
to antagonize today
yes, we must be better off this way.

I felt blood rise to the mouth, and from the mouth I felt it part;
let's tear up the walls of these strange vessels in your heart.

you and I, love:
we'll die young first and live forever afterwards."

chronological difficulties

2010-10-11T18:15:00.001-07:00

a sequence of events,
indistinct and insincere:
an augmented sum of parts
is all that we have here.

minutes left,
I close my eyes
and hope
for clear skies

heavy

2010-10-10T17:01:00.000-07:00

at the center of the sun,

there is something cold and dense

I watched it as it spun

across the broken fence

and descend upon the shore

to smolder in the sand

where it lay winking between the grains

that I held in both my hands

I saw the afternoon

through a shell-colored lens

the light and the lines

refract as they condense

the time I've spent with you

never left me any less

but this simple shade of blue

is heavy, I confess

playlist for the weekend

2010-10-10T00:40:00.000-07:00

1. Lemonade - Cocorosie

2. Luck - Washed Out

3. Close - Telepopmusik

4. If You Were Alien - The Brunettes

5. He Doesn't Know Why - Fleet Foxes

6. Cosmic Love - Florence & The Machine

7. It's Very Sunny - Casino Versus Japan

8. Pure - Blackbird Blackbird

9. Tremel - Glasser (Jamie xx Remix)

10. Our Composition Book - Wild Nothing

------------

Ten songs for the weekend: two parts folk, three parts dream-pop, and a touch of glo-fi. The mood is relaxed, possibly nostalgic. Happy listening :)

parallel objects do not intersect

2010-10-09T13:15:00.000-07:00

soft eyes open, light pollution;

centerfold illumination --

this is the view of the streetlight aethestic

back-lit glow of the pantomime

see it rise over the concrete maze,

the proletariat rephrase.

edges worn and angles broken;

the daily grind of the subway token --

this is the sound of the balcony and stairwell

aligned to the beat of the voltaic blood cell,

pulsating in the spaces, rhythmic vacancies,

strident in the arches of casual disbelief;

under a sunken roof of urban sky,

the loneliest man on Earth and I

held hands and waited through the night

for the morning and it's heavy light.

I am "moving" my poetry to Tumblr

2010-10-09T12:24:00.001-07:00

...In a sense.

I'm really just copying them over. I'll still post here, on my personal blog. But if you have a tumblr and are interested in following me, you can all my works to date here.

(The link is: http://sparkleffect.tumblr.com )

Happy viewing!

♥

NANOWRIMO

2010-10-08T22:25:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna participate in National Novel Writing Month this year! I actually attempt it every year; I just haven't ever been able to finish in time. Come join me and participate also!

http://www.nanowrimo.org

click click click click.

felt

2010-10-05T22:54:00.000-07:00

This is my 71th post! (Okay, there's no real significance in that number.) This bloggity blog has seen me through an awful lot. It's interesting, reading through the old stuff. I guess I'm just the kind of person who relies on retrospect. The things I write feel irrelevant at the time, but looking back, everything sort of slides into place. Is that like...a reverse diary thing? L-o-l.

I'll stop there cause I don't know where I'm heading with this bullshit ^.^

The 8-day heatwave seems to be over. I'm trying not to let the weather get me down.

Time is flying. There aren't enough hours in a day, yet I wish more than anything for time to accelerate even more. I'm afraid of the consequences, of what time can do to all of us. I don't want to slow down; every moment makes us more vulnerable. I'm afraid to enjoy our time together fully because everything can fall apart so easily. I just want to fast forward through the uncertainty, and reach that safe zone where I can finally stop, take a breather, and look back with the knowledge that it DID happen. Now, does that make sense?

Nothing really turned out the way I expected it to. This could be amazing, but I can never tell whether it's just one more high place to fall off of. I think I'm close; I could be farther than ever. I want to believe, trust me. I need this more than anything, and I think that I might have finally figured it out.

But until I'm proven otherwise, you may very well be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

hard to be soft, tough to be tender

2010-10-05T18:32:00.000-07:00

"Come take my pulse, the pace is on a runaway train..."

I CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD.

Flash does funny things.

My hair changes colors in the sun!

kslajdslkajd

I love school I love school I love school I love school

THINK POSITIVE!

it was never my intention to look closely at anything

2010-10-04T16:57:00.000-07:00

"You are quantified to be beautiful", said the man inside the wall

"Yes, I'd like to keep you clean, so that you may have control.

And I know eventually, you'll be skin and blood and tears

Human like the rest of us, weighed down by your fears.

"I know exactly how it feels, like it isn't part of us;

it's just glitter in a glass shell, the transient side of trust --

But I think you're not mistaken for thinking that it's love

Certain sunless rooms are spinning, headed for the rush.

How many will you have,

Before you're sick enough to play?

And see me as I am, in the spring beneath the clay?

Now, turn your palm and show me

The lines between the call,

The exchange illuminated, the silence and the fall."

there's always a way out, but never a way back

2010-09-25T14:29:00.000-07:00

from my window, I can see you;

close the blinds and let it breathe through

can you see me too?

I'm a hemisphere away

we're just particles of air,

reckless, free, and unaware

the galaxies all shrink and grow,

no doors up here for us to close;

nothing is gold unless it glows.

"Touch the stars and the planets too."

2010-09-19T09:44:00.000-07:00

silent dreamscapes intertwine
submerged within the formless night
cool breaths swallow warning signs
eyes breathe gently beneath the light

leaves stir by the opaque window
heads swim past concentric circles
lie back against the warm and open
radiate towards the soft unspoken

quiet lines levitate to the ceiling
viscous intersections reeling
no emptiness is worth believing
I leave my hands and dream of seeing

and they call this storytelling

2010-09-14T19:50:00.000-07:00

I can't tell you any names,
Specific times or places,
And I've made many changes
Just for you, I've filled the spaces.
But the lines still read the same,
And I'll repeat them once again,
He tells me, leaning in,
This is how it should begin,
The way we should have been --

If it's perfect, then it's right,
And you are perfect in my eyes.
It's so flawless in my mind:
We are beautifully aligned,
Gently disinclined
To disengage and redesign

But If my eyes could see through this,
And a kiss is all it is,
Why did my heart sink through the pavement;
Why did we fall so far to save it?
I know it's real; I've seen it go
I know it left, but it left me whole,
And I'm not used to being so complete.

save it for the morning after

2010-09-11T22:25:00.000-07:00

A very, very belated post.

Photos from my summer :)

Saved You a Seat

Fire Extinguisher

Cafe in LA

As Seen from Above

Shrooms.

Good Advice

Sublevel Doors

Tell me something I don't know.

Funny, I don't have a lot of pictures of me with red hair. This one just popped out of nowhere.
Yeah, it was a weird phase. Fun times.

every conversation begins and ends with silence

2010-09-06T00:04:00.000-07:00

You speak, I speak
No one listening, tonight.

Minds racing,
Eyes paraphrasing,
Carefully placing
Our mutinous designs.

Weigh the air with words,
So that we may think to breathe,
And the heaviness we inhale
Fills the emptiness in me.

We lay side by side
In undiscerning grass;
All the stars had sank
To the bottom of the glass.
I could see for miles
Out into the blue,
And this sphere around my heart
Slowly broke in two.

frightening

2010-08-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

the thin line in between
the pure and the obscene
seamlessly divides
the senselessly unclean

a new house of irrevent saints,
a frightening breed of immoderate names,
defiles the more dispensible frames
when the audience leaves for new displays

are you falling through?
maybe we are, too
impulsive and confused,
the inconvenient youth

Time changes everything

2010-08-04T21:00:00.000-07:00

I guess it's pretty rare for me to blog about personal things. So this will probably be the one time that I'll even attempt to organize my feelings into any sort of coherency.

First off, I've been at CSSSA, a summer arts program, for 3.5 weeks now. There are only a few days left before I head home. It's been an amazing experience. I have lived and breathed art for the past month. My passion has intensified, my dedication put to the test. I have discovered so much about myself as an aspiring artist. I've always had an idea of what truly impressive "art" meant: a kind of standard that I would constantly compare myself to. I used to believe that this kind of self-expectation motivated me to improve, but now I'm beginning to understand that any preconcieved notion of what defines art can also serve as a limiting factor, something that detracts from my ability to grow as well as a driving factor behind that growth.
I've been challenged, I guess, to explore - to reach out of what I'm comfortable with, what I believe is beautiful, and grasp at things that I'm not so familiar with: things that have impact, not just finesse. Things that are new, interesting, out of the box. At the very least, I've loosened up.

The second part is a little less concrete. While at camp, I've had the chance to pull myself away from the minute connections back home, upon which I've built so much of my life. I've had a chance to step back, and really look at things. Details I had skimmed over before, when everything had been blown up right before my eyes. From this temporarily detached viewpoint, I find myself focusing on things that I hadn't had the opportunity to scrutinize a month earlier: people whom I've grown close to, people from whom I've distanced myself (and not always willingly), and memories that, until now, I've never really had the time to truly bring out into the light and appreciate or dissect.

I guess it never really hit me, how fast time races forward.

I swear, everything feels like yesterday. Just yesterday, today was tomorrow, and tomorrow was still a concept, something to look forward to.

Time existed yesterday. In a sense, time is just a measurement of gravity. The farther you distance yourself from the Beginning, the more mass gathers on your shoulders, heavy with the weight of memories and the emotional implications of each accumulated experience.
I feel as though it's impossible to feel as lighthearted as I did in, say, February. The lines were straight then; now, the same lines have wound and rewound. We've loved, we've argued, we've gotten down and stayed down. Paths crossed, ties broke, knots made. All over the course of half a year. I've changed, you've changed, he and she have changed, they have changed, we have changed. Irretrievably? Perhaps.

The point is, I've realized how very rare it is for all of us to have a moment when we can pull back from the picture to view the frame and to ask ourselves: Who do we love, and why? What made us smile way back then that can still brighten the present? Why have perfect things fallen apart? And why are we so charmed by imperfection, by flaws?

I can't say that I'm entirely grateful for this strange instance of self-discovery. But I'm glad that it's happened, anyway. Just another thing to stew over late at night.

And if I haven't been able to convey this, I'm lonely, confused, and disappointed with the way things have turned out.

I'm scared of the future because I'm afraid to let go of the past.

we

2010-07-28T12:52:00.000-07:00

you are the crippled bird,
floating in the void beneath the sky
and I am the paper kite,
buoyed by the slightest movement,
dizzy in the atmospheric light

our flightless wings,
our tired eyes,
our simultaneous need to love and cry--

we are not the things
that we're imagining;
we're only faces turning slowly from the light:
a mismatched pair of dreamers, you and I.

and I should mention

2010-07-27T00:51:00.001-07:00

I found all your pretty things

buried in my favorite clothes,

impatient to be held and seen,

sparkling through the dirty folds

All your lonely, little things,

left by rash, adoring hands,

touched the name but not the man

and haven't yet been claimed again--

I found all of these broken things

in the lining of my skin

pressed between my leaps of faith

and my instances of sin

I kept all your dusty things

in a jar above my bed,

conveniently kept out of sight,

so easy to forget--

funny how the gradient blends

into shades of gray

and the hues slowly disappear

as I wipe them off the page:

All your good and all your bad,

and all your in-between,

glide right off the surface of

our expiring memories.

I found all your pretty things

in the corner of my room

lost between the Second Chance

and the End that came too soon.

2010-07-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

you tell them you've got stones in your soul,

nowhere to go

glass in your skin and a weakness within --

oh, we all know.

we smell the blood you drip on the floor

we wipe your tears and watch you bleed more

we bleach the stains on your coat,

keep the blades from your throat

you'd think

the effort would show

please make it clear, dear:

what could you be afraid of?

and could we be enough?

the stroke of a hand

of a kiss, of a featherweight strand

of flaxen hair --

possibly showing signs of wear?

oh, sweetheart, don't tear up the night

warmth comes in many forms other than light

breathe quietly; be still in the dark --

listen to the harmony of our palpitating hearts

as we sway

in the silent shade of moonbeams

and you say

that you've seen it all in your dreams

and we play,

you and us and them and me:

the past, the present, and the yet-to-be.

the little things are temporary

2010-06-30T23:29:00.000-07:00

a smile is like this:

lips stretching tight

curves flattening out

red over white

at least I tried.

2010-06-24T20:52:00.000-07:00

please pardon my momentary relapse. You see,

my self-absorbed cogitation has led me to believe

that the dents in my defenses

are only cracks in my certainty

and that the mirror in your eyes could never truly mirror me

I understand that it's not your fault, and that I could never blame

anything that I needed like I need you to keep me sane,

But if I am your satellite, I think I'm losing me;

I sway and rush whenever we incline to disagree.

I try to see the light in all your disappointing claims,

but a little doubt is all it takes to break the lines that we maintain

Oh, what could this mean?

I sit for days and fret for weeks in front of this divisive screen,

But I don't grow fond of loneliness

or acclimate to lonely scenes.

If you knew, maybe -- but of course you know the end

We are not dissimilar in this statistically imperfect trend

I thought I knew you, but I see now

That you know this better than I could ever comprehend.

forever is terminable

2010-06-23T08:40:00.000-07:00

If I could change your mind tonight,

We might never need to change.

If I could give you everything,

Maybe you would feel the same.

and maybe you will find in we

a beauty you have failed to see.

Maybe we will remain we:

vastly more than you and me.

Love, I could never share your love

for capricious vagaries

why leave Youth for Destiny

and age irreversibly?

I gave you Everlasting,

and I give you away,

But I understand Forever

could never outshine Someday

2010-06-21T11:32:00.000-07:00

I think I'm dying

no, not figuratively dying

the real thing

the kind of death you don't return from.

the biological End.

the brain expires first

the heart stops beating soon after

and then, if you are faithless like me

gravity

is all that's left

Gravity:

the attraction between the colossal and the insignificant

pulling me back into the Bigger Picture

blood and skin

melting from the foreground

into the Indefinite

until I am shapeless

ceasing to exist

even in physical forms

2010-06-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

My friend is currently in Shanghai. We just had a fairly interesting conversation. It's humid over there and she took pictures of the smog from her plane. Google, Wikipedia, Facebook, Twitter, and Blogspot have all been banned. Viva la CCP!

I like the T-shirt I got from the deYoung exhibit. Fricking cost $25 and it already has holes(?!) whatever. It was nice seeing these, btw. The paintings are a lot more vibrant in real life.

the 90s are underrated

2010-06-17T19:10:00.000-07:00

Went to the library to look for music. Something different, something I don't usually listen to. The library's great for that sort of thing. I came back with a whole stack of stuff: The Black Keys, The Spill Canvas, an old Pearl Jam album, Luce (which I've never heard of), Suede, Pet Shop Boys, Gomez, Of Montreal, a great deal of Blonde Redhead, and a little bit of Liberace. Popped them in my Jurassic CD player and just sat down to listen.

It's usually a hit-or-miss thing, like the time I stumbled across Bloc Party (brilliant) and the Violent Femmes (banal. yes, I think the Violent Femmes sucks. shoot me, Ben Kweller!) for the first time during one of these expeditions. Anyway, the library's a fun place.

So I've been listening to Suede just now, and gee. I'm a '94 baby and I definitely missed out on a great decade. The music just had this wonderful feeling to it. I especially like "Saturday Night". Something about the lyrics and his singing:

"Oh, whatever makes her happy on a Saturday night,
Oh whatever makes her happy, whatever makes it alright."

Click here. Listen with me.

It just feels nice. That whole Brit-pop era...I wish I had been there when it swung by. And Dido. I miss music like that. It's not the cheesy 80s R&B shit or the 70s disco tracks with the falsettos (Beegees...umm), and it's not the recession-friendly garageband-oriented hipster techno crap/ ukelele youtube ballads of this generation.

Well, I don't know. I can't really say I miss the 90s cause I haven't exactly lived through it. For me, the 90s = up until age six, and as much as I'd like to say otherwise, I didn't listen to a whole lotta music back then. But from what I've heard so far, the music scene was pretty chillbeans.
Oh, Edward Cullen, you really shouldn't diss the 90s.

Anyway, I've only gone through a sixth of what I've been meaning to listen to. Still wanna find out what Luce is. Hope I like it! The album artwork is interesting. It's one of those super-detailed medical diagrams of a human heart. I'm crossing my fingers that this isn't some goth-poppish shit.

and oh my, check this out: "Id Engager" - of Montreal

Happy listening, guys

Update: I don't really like Luce. The one I have is their album Never Ending. Their lyrics are cute. It's soft-rock-ish. Almost country. It's sounds a little boring.

I need to trim my bangs, its gross

a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep.

2010-06-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

dreamcatcher on the ceiling fan

please hold my restless hands

for another night

alone

dust mote kisses

left on my mattress

are the only traces

of you

lover, where do you go?

when the light is weak

and the night is cold

sounds and visions

I don't hear or see

breathe easy next to me

If you have nothing on your mind,

we don't need

to speak.

speak nothing of the unkind,

lie with me,

and sleep.

oh, mornings :(

2010-06-14T10:12:00.000-07:00

Good morning world.

The time right now is 7:56, and I have just gotten out of bed. I'm 16, it's summer, and I can't even sleep in past 9. I probably should be happy to have a healthy circadian rhythm, but I honestly can't enjoy this if I'm waking up a good two hours earlier than my parents every frikkin day.

The challenge here, you see, is to keep myself entertained until the world feels alive again.

I just took a shower. It is now 8:32.

I can't wait until a) my parents decide to move somewhere with more than 1 bathroom, so we can have more bathrooms than we technically need to have as a family of 3 and therefore live in the luxury of having an excess of bathrooms, or b) I move the hell out and have my own bathroom, or at least be able to fight for bathroom access with some new faces because I am dead tired of seeing my cranky parents in the morning not letting me go pee just so they can primp in front of the mirror before they go to work.

I am revisiting twitter. If you've read my mini-rant about twitter, the one that I put up, oh, maybe half a year ago, you'd know that this is not something I'd choose to do unless I was dead bored. I am actually tempted to twitter spam and put up everything that I am writing in this post right now, cept in 140-char fragments. the joy!

An awful lot of my twitter feed is devoted to FIFA. Them koreans.

Okay, my parents just left for work. My madre bought two pairs of sandals yesterday and she took like 15 solid minutes deciding which went better with her outfit, the black heels or the ivory ones. She chose the black ones because she has a very limited mental palette when choosing footwear, and because she has a fiery love for PVC. (based solely on my inferences, of course)

I think my dad is balding and in denial. This makes me really sad, I don't know why.

I have an awful lot in common with my dad. I got his sense of humor, his love of art, his taste for swoony electronica, even his bigass nose. I don't look or act like my mom AT ALL. I think that the only thing we have in common is that we both like hairpins and boys.

It is now 10:12 and I have not done SHIT.

Do I want to eat breakfast? No.

Do I want to go watch cartoons? Yes.

Cartoons are not funny once you reach a certain age. Channel 296 on Dish just ain't working for me no more.

I really want a macbook. Actually, I don't care for laptops all that much. My philosophy with those is simple: gimme anything, as long as it's portable, streamlined inside and out, and relatively lightweight.

It is now 10:48 and I have a feeling that if I keep doing this, I will have one gigantic T-rex blog post that no one will find the time to read, not even Jesus

so Ima stop :D

the love we deserve

2010-06-13T10:28:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have been paying attention

if it seems otherwise, it's only because for the last few minutes I've been

wondering where I fit into it all

"It's no laughing matter," you said

"The tables have turned

into just a shadow of myself,

a fraction of what I used to be.

You

the easiest thing for me now

you're naive, I like that most about you

You disregard that I am weak

and you let me lean on your arm and

push you to the ground with my feeble gravity,

blacken your eyes with my blind and sensitive need,

bruise your skin with the dull side of my rhetoric,

and love you despite my frailty.

You

You love me too

Of course you do."

I thought about how you said that

the pain in your voice

and the apology in your eyes

and I looked down at myself

and then up at you

your bloated hurt

your aching soul

and I knew that I loved you too

of course I do.

"I swear we were infinite."

2010-06-12T22:28:00.000-07:00

Remember that line from Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower? When Charlie's sitting in the pickup truck with Sam and Patrick, and they're driving in the dark, and he's on his way to his first party, and they're listening to The Smiths (or maybe it's Fleetwood Mac), and he feels like the moment's just never gonna end, it's that good?

Yeah, I like how he described it. Infinite.

I think I know how that feels.

You gotta love these summer nights, the ones that make you want to open all the windows and turn off the lights and sit in the darkness, preferably with a glass of ice cubes next to you and great music playing, just loud enough to make everything feel real.

I don't even mind being alone right now. I haven't felt this happy in a long time.

Charlie had a dark place that he'd go to; I have my own. But this is one of those moments when I feel safe from it all. Million Young in the background, neighbors watching TV downstairs. So much love in my heart I'm almost glowing.

Whoever said that the morning is wiser than the evening didn't care to develop his argument enough. I don't want to sleep tonight; I might forget this feeling when I wake up.

peace guys

saturday

2010-05-30T14:43:00.000-07:00

The man living in the sunshine house

is selling magic by the fluid ounce:

ten for ten and three for five;

blood on paper keeps them both alive.

Oh, did you notice how young she's been

For the past twelve decades she's been living in?

But nothing ever changes in this town --

It's the same four faces looking down

on each side of the table, where they count their cards:

Eyes on the prize, just to shoot in the dark

Who knows what they're aiming for?

With money like that, well, who needs more?

Don't feed the alligators in the park

Don't ever run with scissors in the dark

Don't look at the man with the gun to your head

Don't try to be wise; just go where you're led

If you're lucky, they'll take you somewhere nice

A place in the sun, where you can close your eyes

I know you know things that you want to forget

Go upstairs and catch your breath.

If you want, we can go to the sunshine room

Sit by the window and try to prove

That nothing I've seen is true

Nothing I've seen is true.

2010-05-13T16:36:00.000-07:00

I'll be sixteen in four days!

Wow, I'm young.

Disney Channel definitely brainwashes girls with this cutesy image of what a "sweet sixteen" is supposed to be. Too bad I'm neither rich nor white.

I guess I should be grieving because I'm rapidly outgrowing my graphic novels. (Wtfsup with these Asian lolita skanks. Is there a single shojo manga that involves heroines older than 15?)

Farewell, my lovely High School Debut D:

Guess I'll have to stick with reading Gintama.

Hmm. I have an awful lot of birthday wishes this year. I don't know which one I'll choose when I blow out the candles.

Preferably, though, those candles will be on a pirate cake.

Speaking of cake, check out http://weddingpros.wordpress.com/2009/05/12/top-20-most-ugly-wedding-cakes/

tragically hilarious.

Oh. I want to be able to drive soon. If I don't get my lazy ass a permit in a couple of months, I might end up feeling like a worthless human being. Maybe I'll even write a melancholic poem about it and put it on my blog.

So that's at the top of my list of "things I'd like to accomplish during my sixteenth year on this beautiful blue planet". Here's the rest:

1. try not to get my sensitive Asian ass kicked in the academic fields. 4.o or gtfo.

2. try to be happy. I might need to. Things I've always loved just don't interest me anymore, and it's almost awful. I've discovered that I have stop relying on other people to make me feel good and clear-headed. I wish that I were more at ease with myself and less afraid of disappointment. I wouldn't call this a phase, but I'm definitely hoping to grow out of it.

So basically.

Can't wait for the seventeeth :)