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That's a really nice song, though- I'll give you that.
Just realize that...
You're not the one picking up the pieces right now.
I am.
A fair response,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwcZR_9bO3Y
<EDIT>
The strings in Almost Everything remind me of this as well:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDOZVNvq0eY
Pretending not to notice
I gazed far outside a small window
The voice of an angel fills the sky
Embraced by the wind
The noise reflected in your eyes can't hear a thing
Now it's just "a trick of sweet time"
I whispered to the sky
Around and round. In the time left behind, I am now...
Les miserables
I loved you too much and you are on the other side
Laughing softly
My feelings will never reach you...I'll put them in a sigh
Bathed in the cold wind
Imagining these feelings night after night
The melody I hum softly
Is etched in time and disappears
I can't forget the sadness, I can never go back
Even now I can't dye myself with these swaying emotions and my body
Is about to break...
Where can I go so that the sadness of being alone will disappear?
"I always have tomorrow..."
Around and round...In the time left behind, I am now
Les miserables
I loved you too much and you are now on the other side of the wall
Laughing softly
Les miserables
Falling deeply into an almost forgotten dream, I am now
Les miserables
I loved you too much and you are now on the other side of the wall
Laughing softly
My feelings will never reach you...I'll put them in a sigh
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Those are mostly for me. Trips down memory lane,
to remind myself who I've been.
The only significant thing I bothered writing that year was during March:
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Haven't made an entry like this in a while.
Hm. Perhaps it was better to have never loved at all. Just a thought evoked from Francis' older post. Don't bother looking, unless you're him or the people mentioned in it, you won't find the post. I feel like I am figuratively rotting away. In reality, that's just my skin. But...frustration...fear...and love are so overwhelming. It makes you think...is it worth it? Perseverence is the only live option, yet I'm being a hypocrite for telling others to persevere when I, myself, can barely do so. It's hard, isn't it? Rather hard to laugh nowadays. I can still smile...but...it's going to take practice. Madness is created within me. I am...what you call frustration.
Fear. It's funny. I fear mainly one thing in life. Yet at the same time, it makes me angry because I fear such a thing. And then of course, the anger creates a will that fills me up with darkness. In reality, no, not darkness...but adrenaline.
Hapiness. Sometimes when I'm happy to a certain degree, it creates adrenaline also. If the presence of someone makes me feel happy beyond limits of description, I begin shaking...subconciously. It drives me to that point excluding that which we all receive as a result of hyperactivity, such as jumping around. Happiness...sometimes it makes me stand up and stretch. I stretch until my muscles pull. My body straightens out because of it. It makes me nervous sometimes as well. But most important of all, it gives me the courage to cast aside my fears. Not truly cast aside, but to face forward in spite of it. I agree with Albert Einstein. For courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that there is something more important than it. This is how I feel sometimes. My greatest fear is still there...yet, with happiness, I can walk straight through it as if it were a wall finally broken through by a renewed strength.
Frustration. It takes people many places. I think I've traveled along it's path for quite the longest time imaginable. It makes other people upset. It irritates them. It drives them nuts. But for me, it creates pure madness. Pure madness. By that, I mean I could develop the urge to literally kill someone. In madness, I can grab a knife and stab you. I can slash him. I can cut her. In my madness, I have the will carried by murderers and convicts. In my madness, I can forget everything for the shortest moment and kill even myself. Frustration, unlike courage, completely eliminates my fears and gives me a short outburst of madness. If this occurs to an unatural extent that is higher than what I feel with fear, which rarely does, I can do just about anything mentioned above.
Sadness. What is sadness to you? A girl rejecting you to the prom? People who tease you at school? Parents taking away your "freedom"? There's more. To identify sadness, it is easier to see it as grieving. Sorrow. But from where can we witness such? Death is one of the answers. Love is another.
Love. "I love you, baby." You meet a girl on the first day of school, get to know her for a week, ask her out, become successful, and you're in love, right? I disagree. There's more than mere relationships between two people who are attracted to each other. In most cases, where people close in on such short time, it has to deal with appearances. Exactly what can you love about someone? Is it the usual smooth, silky hair? Is it those shiny blue eyes? No. You know what I see? I see people rushing. I see not love, but lust. People just want to get in on each other. One person after the other. We are all immature. Face it. Love isn't just one person. It's not "the one" you're looking for. Love is life; your entire life. No matter how much you think it has to do with one person that you like, it really has to do with you. Why? Because in life, you will encounter love more than once. You will love a family. You will love a friend. You will love her or him. You will love God. But how do we know if we truly love someone? Because love is such a broad term, people often use it to exaggerate their feelings so they can express it to others and let them know how much they like the person. Despite how many dictionaries you search the word "love" in, the term can never be defined. Why? Because it is not just a description in everyday language. It is a feeling. And since we all feel it from different perspectives, what you read in the dictionary is only the general view of what the author feels. For example, this post is from my perspective. Moreover, love cannot be defined. The easiest way for me to define it is by isolating it into two terms. One is romantic love. One is realistic love. In romance, you want the person. In realistic love, you want what's best for the person. If you truly love someone, you should be able to watch them embrace another and be grateful for it. You feel no envy. You feel happiness for another even if the happiness does not associate with you. That is love. So what does it mean when you say "I love you"? What do you imply when you promise to "protect" someone? What are you truly sacrificing when you say "even if it costs me my life"?
Sacrifice. How many of you think you can truly sacrifice for another? Not hw, not money, not clothing. What about love? Can we truly sacrifice such an abstract term? Yes. If an individual longs for a desire so much that he or she is willing to sacrifice, all else may be put aside. This includes family and friends. More significantly, death. How many of you think you can actually commit suicide? You'll go "Man, I wanna die so bad right now" but can you ever hold a knife at your throat and cut it without your hand shaking? Can you develop the will to overdoze 150 pills, knowing that it will kill you afterwards? You're standing on top of the world. Dare to jump down? Or are you just going to gaze at the possibility? Aside suicide, can you sacrifice your life for another? We've all had that dream where our most beloved is in the middle of the street. A car rushes by, we push them out of the way, save the day, and die in place of the original endangered target. But how often does this happen? We're not all Chuck Norris, so it's more likely impossible for such a situation to occur. How many of you can let a friend crash at your place if they plan to run away from their home with reasonable cause? Will you reject them out of fear of your own parents? Would you argue against them or would you argue against your parents if they said no? Or would you just tell the person to calm down and don't be afraid? How many of you can calm the nerves of a scared friend? Fear is overwhelming. Can you possibly prevail if the person is threatened to die or get hurt if they don't run? Will you let them over or will you tell them to sleep on a nearby lawn for the night? Overall, sacrifice is more than your precious everday values and inanimate objects. Life, a greatest sacrifice...what may be more or equal to sacrifcing life? Love.
Reality. More than just what we believe to be the truth, Jennae. Reality is the truth. If it's just what we believe to be true, then most religions would be considered reality. Reality is the poverty we witness, the community we associate with, the society we see everyday.
Encarta Dictionary Tools:
reality
1. real existance: actual being or existance, as opposed to an imaginary, idealized, or false nature
2. all that actually exists or happens: everything that actually do or could exist or happen in real life
3. something that exist or happens: something that has real existance and must be dealt with in real life
4. type of existance: a kind of existance or universe, either connected with or independent from other kinds
5. PHILOSOPHY totality of real things: the totality of real things in the world, independent of people's knowledge or perception of them
- That's the gist of it. Do you see now? Reality is more than a mere word that destroys our dreams. Because of reality, we're able to have dreams in the first place, for if reality did not exist, our dreams would be, but another reality. Dreams, not goals, but actual rapid eye movement in the early, light stages of the sleep cycle, are created from reality. Thoughts, feelings, events, past, present, future...all are blended into our dreams. Because of this, reality is needed to determine if our dream is just a dream or if it is reality, itself. Reality has to exist. There's no such thing as a dream without it.
Dreams. Dreams are neccessary to life- Anais Nin. I agree. Though some are bad, some are good, all provoke thoughts within our minds and trigger certain feelings that help us mature.
Maturity. There's a less chance of being immature if you act mature. That's to you, who questioned it, Jennifer Zhang. Maturity is pretty straight forward. The act of being an adolscent. When you are mature, you are being an adult. Age does not neccesarily determine maturity but in the earlier years of life, it is natural for humans to mature as they age. However, the younger minds in life have the same potential to be mature. Even adults who act consistently immature may not be considered adults. Jennifer, if you act mature and stay consistent with it, then you basically are mature. Immaturity does not come from the many attempts to be mature. I remember you said that sometimes if an individual tries too hard to be mature, he or she ends up being immature instead. I disagree. There are many well on their path to become mature. Me, for example. I'm immature. Very. Yet, at the same time, you told me that if I try too hard to become mature, it leads to immaturity. Again, I disagree, for who knows whether I'm trying to become mature or not? If it seems too early for me to pursue such a thing, I can rephrase it by saying that I am merely avoiding immaturity. In that case, would you think it is possible to be even more immature when you tried to avoid doing so? I wouldn't be too sure about that.
Life. Life is...reality. Deal with it.
<EDIT>
You are all free to criticize this post. Just keep in mind that what I say is not neccessarily true to all. It may be to some of you and it may not to others. All that you have read above is, but what I think and believe. Notice, I do not title any ideals "wrong", but rather as "I disagree". The majority of what I wrote at the beginning is more about my feelings anyway.
Thank you for those of you who have taken the time to read this post as well as those of you who have not.
~Kurisu
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For you to waltz around my thoughts and feelings.
I'm more a newspaper than an open book.
It's too easy for you to get in here, in my head.
At times I thought that would be the best way to tell you things,
to let you see as much of my original and honest thoughts.
But it seems there's still no way you can understand.
I'm also embarrassed by all the ridiculous corny talk filled with Chris Nolan references.
It turns out most of what I consider "the beginning" needs to happen with me, not you.
You know, like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Oh, shit- there goes another reference.
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"Self-improvement is masturbation...
Now self-destruction..."
Self-destruction is true.
And I will use it to rid myself of love.
Of hopeless romance and fantasy.
I will become something else, redefined.
No facades. It will be organic.
So that when I do find you again,
everything will happen naturally.
The best part of my immaculate plan is...
how simple and uncontrolled it will be.
Time to self-destruct.
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"Too dramatic, just go." Those were your last words.
You don't feel any guilt for what you've done, do you?
I wonder if you hurt as much as me. But ah, you're easily wrapped up in hobbies, aren't you?
You have more friends than me. You have more life in you. You're younger than me.
So off I go, searching for a way to let this go. Not you, this. I'm searching for forgiveness.
To forgive you, forgive myself, forgive us. I'll never let you go.
I'll come back for you, I promise. I promise myself as much as you- And when I do,
I will be there for you- whenever you need me.
I will be there for you...as you grow up.
I will be there, until you finish growing.
But it starts here, at the end. It's a new beginning, even though those words signal the end.
Too dramatic, just go? How bitter, and nothing sweet. We'll be nicer and gentler when I return.
It all starts here, my long journey to re-enter your life someday. To conquer your love.
The end's beginning becomes....the end, and then....the beginning.
Inception.
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Goddamnit.
I hate you.
How could this happen?
You just changed.
Aw, hell- there's something you hear everyday between couples.
God...
Why can't there be a better reason? Like, oh, maybe the DISTANCE?
Something that didn't have to be us. I wanted to believe we had a chance,
even if not now. I wanted to believe that I could secretly spend my life chasing you,
waiting for you to grow up become sure of your feelings and what you want.
You're just a girl. And you somehow managed to love me, use me, and ruin me.
We never did see love the same way. But I thought my beliefs were strong enough,
to show you the better side, the different side. We were exceptional.
Not anymore. We could have been.
But damnit, I lost everything because of some unpredictable reason.
You just changed.
I'm worse off knowing. Lying would have made me happier.
No...
But I'd be happier ignorant. Ignorance is bliss.
NO.
My beliefs are all screwed up now.
I've never been this pissed off and torn.
Unable to do anything about it.
I'd rather be dead.
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It's like grad night, but it's not the same.
Mindy and I are going through elevators...preparing for her classes, figuring out her schedule, or something. We know that there's a field trip thing/bus that takes us out to some shopping area at the end of the night for dinner. Or maybe there isn't a bus, I can't remember how transit works.
But during the last elevator trip, there's a really tall guy trying to get in behind Mindy- she hasn't stepped into the elevator yet. I tell her that there's a guy behind her (because it's like she's not moving at all), but instead of rushing in beside me/other people, she steps aside and lets the really tall guy go in. I think we're heading to the last destination on her/our list of school errands, but I don't know where to go- so before the elevator doors close, I shout to her and ask where to go. I think she shouts back in reply.
That night, the field trip thing begins- I'm not on a bus, though. I'm in a car...and the driver is my Japanese teacher. At first, I look at her and think- this isn't Hirata-sensei, who teaches 201...And suddenly I recognize it's Umabe-sensei with her hair down. We're in a dark green sedan, it's somewhat old, like a Toyota. There's another guy in the car with me. Is it Vincent? I'm not sure, but he appears again later anyway.
Umabe-sensei stops in the parking lot of the shopping area- the place that I first contemplate/see is L&L Hawaiian Barbecue. It's quite a contrast, to see the place bright on the inside (like an I-N-Out, but more blue/white on the interior) and yet it's dark out because of the night. Due to the elevator thing that happened earlier, I'm here before Mindy. I think about menu options- macaroni salad's the one that sticks in my mind. It's just a side, though, not really a main course. But it's simple, easy to contemplate. Umabe-sensei...gives me five dollars, and suggests that I buy some hot Starbucks for Mindy. I think about how coffee isn't preferable for her, so I put it in my mind that I'm going to buy her hot chocolate...
Forward, Mindy and I are at L&L. She's thinking about the barbecue beef, even though they also serve chicken and shrimp.
Forward again, my night with Mindy at L&L is over. The fragment in-between is never clear- did I ever dream it, or did my mind just skip over it? It's so blank to me now. I'm heading back to the green car, to Umabe-sensei. I realize that I never bought the hot chocolate while I was waiting for Mindy, or at any point that night, so I hand the five back to sensei.
We're dropped off at the highlands. But not in it- there are sidewalks around the perimeter, and for some reason we're on the sidewalk- Vincent and I. He heads to his car, and I head to mine- as I'm walking through the parking lot, I see another familiar face standing beside a car with the driver seat open- it's my aunt on my dad's side, but I don't see it at first. It's Co Phuong, the one that recently visited me- Co Phuong, Thomas' mother...and for some reason, I couldn't place her at first because...she has her hair down. And it's longer than her hair would be in reality if she let it down. Like...shoulder-blade length.
She tells me that she's here to pick me up- I think about the Landrover and tell her that I drove here, so I could drive home. I forget how I get home- is it even home? Because I end up at a house with all of the uncles and aunts on my mom's side. Like, David was my cousin on my mom's side- and his mom was there. And Uncle Tuan, who I lived with for several months before moving to California- he was there. Everyone on that side of the tree was there.
But something was different. They were all rude to me, mean. Especially David's mom. She said something to me as I came in and out of the front door. And only when she scolded me did I see how ridiculously tall she was. A little wide in her dress, too. Not fat. Just tall, and a bit wide. People at the dining table are fixing dinner or something- Uncle Tuan has a huge salad bowl in front of him, empty- he kneels on a chair, leaning over the table, and reaches up to a ceiling/dining room light and begins to unscrew the lit bulb. He does this until it's disassembled, and something shoots out into the salad bowl. It's like ash, cigarette ash, plus dust and dirt. It starts a few times, and then unloads completely like a strong faucet- just pushing it all out into the bowl that Uncle Tuan is now holding up to it. It stops before it reaches the top of the bowl. Smoke rises from it, and everyone's staring at what just happened.
And between now and what happens next (which is nothing), there may have been another fragment. But like the earlier one with dinner, maybe it never happened or maybe I can't remember.
But forward again, and my alarm goes off. I reach to press the snooze on Flavor of Life. It's already set to ring again in three minutes. I place the phone under my pillow, facing down on the bed so the next ring won't be audible to anyone in the house except me. (My door's already closed). Sometime between that first ring and the next I see through the slits in my blind that it's dawn again. And my mind goes off for while.
Then the second ring. I turn the alarm off, and sit up. It's only after I press the button to turn on my laptop that everything sort of slowly comes back to me...The L&L, the elevators and errands I ran with Mindy. The vague family party, the Japanese teacher.
That's all the mind I have to share right now...
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comes by so easily nowadays.
I'm eighteen, I'm sick of hearing lectures from my dad. At least tell me some old-fashioned wisdom, some Vietnamese proverb or something important to know in the workplace-
I'm sick of hearing shit about my learning, my transferring. God, I'm sick of him looking down on me, telling me he wouldn't mind if I don't graduate from college or just get a 2-year degree. It pisses me off so much- he pretends to be giving me the privilege of his own understanding, but it's all just condescension. I don't need to hear it from him. I know more about my goals and my path and what I need to do than he ever will. He talks to me like I don't know my own schedule, don't know what the hell I'm doing at MiraCosta, or what the hell I'm doing with my time at home.
I'm sick of hearing stuff about the girl he never knew, and will never know. He still talks like my life depends on it, like it depends on securing myself with someone- making good impressions with the parents of her family, saying the rights things, coming off the right way. Like being a handyman will make me look good. What the hell? He doesn't even know her. He doesn't even know she's not what he thinks she is. Not anymore, anyway. And I still have to hear it as if things are the same.
Goddamnit.
Get off my fucking case.
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Waking close to one in the afternoon. Not bad.
I didn't remember it right away.
But it was like a vacation. Me and my cousin David- we were really close when we were younger. Like Power Rangers. And we'd share Nintendo games and Yu-gi-oh cards and talk about the girls we liked in school. For him, it was always this Tiffany. I haven't seen him since he was in intermediate school, or something like that. He's a junior now in high school.
We were young again. At least he was. In this jumbled dream, it was like a resort on an offroad. A desert-like place. The hotel along the road, but the road isn't straight, it's long and it turns this way and that- nothing like an interstate in the middle of no where. My dream included boba. We past it, and several times David and I made plans to go get some- we asked what my mom wanted. Coconut.
There's a store somewhere on the same road. It has souvenirs. I buy some, but don't take it with me- I come back a second time, later- trying to explain that I already bought it, and that I don't have my wallet or ID or receipt at the moment. The guy behind the counter is nice and lets me go on.
There's another hotel. This is another fragment of the dream. It's a big hotel, in a business or shopping building. The elevators can go through an endless number of floors. Like a Vegas hotel, I guess. In this dream, I'm not with David. I'm with my aunt- the youngest one on my mother's side, the one that I never think about. The shortest one and the one that looks most like my mom. She's high-maintenance and she's picky and sometimes stuck-up, and she's not afraid to give her opinion. Her daughter is spoiled, rebellious- Julie. Her husband is goofy, and funny, and...probably something underneath.
I walk through the hotel with her. We're looking for something, something she wants to buy. At some point it becomes dark out and we realize we're outside of the building.
Back to the dream on the unpredictable desert road. Somewhere, there's a shack. Brown, and dark on the inside. There are three people inside: Paula, Mindy, and myself. We're kind of just hanging out among random things, and Mindy picks up a large deck of Yu-Gi-Oh cards that belong to me. I don't know if we're arguing or teasing, but I tell her that I have another deck back at home and it's much larger- and that I'd probably beat her at the game. We talk like this.
Third fragment of the dream- again, different from the other two. It's a classroom. Again, though, Paula, Mindy, and myself. Mindy and I still have this strange vibe between us- is it competition? I don't know exactly, but here again I'm trying to impress her. I'm trying to sit next to her, and our exchanges are sharp like retorts. It's a classroom that reminds me of the one Mindy and I sat in during college night, with a UC Merced person lecturing about personal statements. But the class in the dream is an actual class...is it bio? It's a science class. It has to be.
I can't remember anything else.
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"but it turns out I was nothing more than a martyr fighting for a lost cause"
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I'm not going to be a liar.
I have to do my best.
I've gotta try this out first.
Because I said I'd be great at it. I said I'd be great...
And though everything I've previously written still holds true,
this world doesn't need another let-down.
Enter Chris.
Friend.
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I'm not as tough as I thought. What am I really made of?
I don't know anymore- my tower of beliefs has collapsed. Every opinion I stood by regarding this world and my view of it. But mainly the things I believed most in. I'm shattered with disbelief. Blasphemy. Incredulous. And I would be okay if not for this anger displacement. Why am I so...angry? So angry, and yet accepting at the same time. It's because it was the right thing- I accept that, it had to happen. But the reason is what angers me. How did you change, when, and why? What was the catalyst for this reaction? I'll never know, but I can't let it go. I can't forgive you without knowing.
...I can draw on another reference again. Yusuf crashes the van into the side of the bridge- That was you telling me you didn't know if you loved me. And when the van hit the water? That was the second kick, when you asked "So are we friends?" I had all my answers ready that day, but I was still surprised you made that decision. Maybe I secretly hoped otherwise. Well my hopes clearly aren't secret. But maybe I secretly expected otherwise. From you. I can't look at you anymore. I can't think about you anymore than I already do. I want to be your friend, but I can't- I'm too angry at the Mindy I used to know- too angry at the Mindy that once loved me. I'm still thinking,"How could this happen? How could you let this happen?"...and when I think about Mindy-now, it's like "Hey there, friend- oh, wait...something's troubling my mind" When I see you as a friend...or at least try to see you as who you are now, I want to stand by you and be there for you...and maybe take whatever you'll offer me. But the you I once knew still makes me angry- it's like I still hold those expectations for that shade of you, and I'm still disappointed and hurt and I can't let you get away with that- I can't let that shade of you get away with pulling the trigger, and just be nice to the present you. Your past haunts my present.
I keep going back and forth- do I put aside that shadowing pain, and be your happy friend? I could be your friend now, and we might stay friends for a long time, or it might not be so long until you realize you love me again. And I wonder if the former will ever lead in a circle back to what I want most, but I don't have hopes for that...it's just a wondering. A wondering about my chances with you. Would it conversely be in my best interest to drop out of your life now and return someday? We could become acquainted once more, maybe start over on a blank slate and...that could lead to the same circle of my deepest desire. But either way, it requires that I Enter your life as a friend. It's just that one path is me putting aside everything I'm feeling to be your friend now (which impossibly, takes a lot) and the other allows me to hate the world like I do today, to be alone and dark and constantly wandering in indifference and hurt for...as long as it takes. It'll change me, maybe- redefine me, maybe.
I don't know what to do. I know that I can't look at you now, can't talk to you- and it's not just the anger that I feel towards your former color. It's my desire. Everything I've ever wanted to do with you, to you. I can't even bare picturing your face. Your lips, your skin. It's all too much.
We can't...because...
I'm mad at you, for you.
So goodbye.
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"If you wake up at different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?"
I tell myself I'm okay, but every time I remember or see it in my head...
It's like a bad dream. How many times do I have to wake up? I'm already awake. My eyes are open.
But it still feels like it's the last thing I dreamt, the last thing I saw-
Like a bad dream that was only a moment ago.
And I wake up, over and over again, as if through layers of it, rising from limbo.
And I'm reaching for the surface, for reality. But I still feel the strangeness of the dream; it's brief passing, once imminent.
I'm at the end of it all, in that one moment where the top spins...not wondering if it will fall, just waiting for it to.
Am I half-asleep?
I feel trapped within the layers.
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"What happened?"
"Cobb stayed."
"With Mal?"
"No, to find Saito."
"...He'll be lost."
"No, he'll be all right."
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Morning is here.
I woke between three and four because of coughs. More in my throat than my chest. And endless it was, to the point that I was coughing and sneezing simultaneously into my hand, spitting into the bathroom sink, on the verge of throwing up. It's more than an itch, waking me in the night like that for the second time. It feels terrible. Felt. But I brought the water boiler into my room again and made tea. Then I made coffee with the second boil. Both helped considerably.
Something hot is always nice for that part of me. I feel so icky, and sick-
I just wish it was that kind of sickness I felt one time- nothing in particular, except that bordering fever.
I felt lightheaded, but at ease. Like on drugs (maybe I was, over the counter), and it felt warm.
Just this constant, warm aura. I was light, floaty.
But most of all, warm.
I'm sure, though, that rubbing Vicks' VapoRub all over me now wouldn't recreate that warmth.
So I won't.
But morning is here,
I guess I'll have another cup of coffee.
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darkness inside of me.
Am I there again?
So much of how I feel depends on my perception of the things I know.
Sometimes that perception becomes twisted, and I have to remind myself of the things I know; the facts.
But there is only so much one can know. The question, Mal would ask, is what do I believe,
Or want to believe?
It's because of that question, that I'm at liberty to continuously see these images in my head.
I see now that I'm only picturing, but I'm okay with that. You have to have imagination.
"There's so much a man can tell you, so much he can say."
The question, you might ask, is what do you believe,
Or want to believe?
Can you understand my truth in a world of facts?
Truth is so deeply rooted, beneath what I can tell you, beneath what I can say.
I want to open myself up to you.
I want to be The Mark. Steal my thoughts, feelings,
And if you're looking for it, then the deepest thing inside me, too.
Steal that. Break into me, into the dark, and light it,
As the dawn breaks rays of light against the night.
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When you say thank you to me,
for some reason it hurts
Like a magic spell that isn't undone
Even after the goodbye.
A hint of bitterness,
The flavor of life
Stuck midpoint between friends and lovers,
like an unripe fruit dreaming about the day of harvest
Because of being unable to just move one more step forward
What’s this frustration, baby?
When you say thank you to me,
for some reason it hurts
Like a magic spell that isn't undone
Even after the goodbye.
A hint of bitterness,
The flavor of life
Sweet talk and tasteless conversations:
It sparks no interest in me
Even when things don't go the way you want
It doesn't mean you’ve thrown your life away
When asked ‘Whats wrong?’
I answer ‘Its nothing’
The smile that disappears after goodbye...
It’s unlike me.
The more I wish to believe in you,
For some reason it hurts even more
‘I like you a lot’ instead of ‘I love you’ sounds more like you,
The flavor of life
The period when you suddenly remember the scent of someone you had almost forgotten...
I want to be able to openly and honestly cherish the white purity of the falling snow more.
A future more tender and warm than a diamond...
I want to grasp it, in this limited time we have- I want to spend it with you.
When you say thank you to me,
For some reason it hurts
Like a magic spell that isn't undone
Even after the goodbye
A hint of bitterness,
The flavor of life.
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“ありがとう”と君に言われるとなんだか切ない
さようならの後も解けぬ魔法淡くほろ苦い
The flavor of life
友達でも恋人でもない中間地点で
収穫の日を夢見てる青いフルーツ
後一歩が踏み出せないせいで
じれったいのなんのって, baby?
ありがとうと君に言われるとなんだか切ない
さようならの後も解けぬ魔法淡くほろ苦い
The flavor of life…
忘れかけていた人の香りを突然思い出すころ
降り積る雪の白さをもっと素直に喜びたいよ
ダイヤモンドよりも柔らかくて温かな未来を手にしたいよ
限りある時間を君と過ごしたい
ありがとうと君に言われるとなんだか切ない
さようならの後も解けぬ魔法淡くほろ苦い
The flavor of life..."
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Drove (starting around 3:50ishPM, after asking dad for permission) through an hour of bumper-to-bumper traffic to 15th.
Grass. Beach. Water. Beach. Grass. Virginia, flat tire. Dad caught up with her, fixed it.
While that happened, walked from 15th to Jack In The Box.
Was picked up by Virginia, who sat in shotgun on the ride back.
Home around 8:10PM...
The signs were all terrible.
Yet I always find that reason, and go out of my way.
This unseen effort rewards me with ridiculous karma.
That reason...I keep picturing it.
But like the scene with Expectations and Reality,
it is once again, just a picture.
When will I stop thinking?
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Was driving back from park in Vista. Knew the back lights were "out," but asked dad earlier which car to take, and he said Landrover.
On the other hand, was pulled over during said drive back. No license, I realized. No registration/insurance that I was sure of, though I pulled out two cards...that might have been insurance, except it had my dad's name on it.
Officer walks up to driver's window. (Both of the front windows had already been rolled down as I was driving.)
Good evening. Do you know why I stopped you? Um, the back lights? Yeah. Asks to see license/registration. Said I don't have license with me. Rummage around glove department for registration. As this happens, second officer (partners?) walks up to first, says there's a guy he wants to stop. First guy says okay, second guy mentions it again, first guy says okay, I'll follow you- goes off for a bit with second guy. First guy comes back, says Have a good night, just make sure you fix that.
How lucky. The last time I remember anything like this ever happening was in the movie Collateral. Well, that's the first, not the last. The last time...was some movie about a kid getting his license. And a girl was in the trunk, drunk. Before they popped it, the cops had to roll.
Hm. Yeah, that was lucky. Or coincidental. Or whatever.
I wonder if it matters which.
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So I've been avoiding this thing because it feels cursed to me.
But I'm really running out of ways to let it out. Not that "it" is a big thing today.
Today's Sunday, we're doing yard-work. Lots of yard, therefore lots of work. The dead grass gets in your socks, like splinters. It's dry, and sharp.
The afternoon sun is hot, but I don't have a big fear of sweating. I just get self-conscious, depending on the situation.
We have breaks. This is the first of them for today- I was told to make coffee for dad and myself. Used french vanilla creamer for him. And for me...
I tried this caramel creamer, which is supposed to recreate the taste of caramel macchiato (like the one at SBUX). It's all right. Not bad.
Mom's been very short with me lately. Every response is a shout. We still fight about the two younger dogs. My best friends, huh?
I was told some people were trying to steal them. We have a corner house. There's a fence, but hey- it's only a fence. So I heard from my mom,
who may have heard from my dad, unless she heard directly from Julian (the neighbor behind us) as well, that some "kids" were trying to take them?
The sidewalk's right there, people come and go...and they can see our dogs. According to mom, the fact that they're puppies make them seem so attainable.
I can't say I'm stressed out. I just hate moving. For some reason, I thought it was over, but it's not until you're done with everything. And with a house that requires endless TLC? This'll take a while.
The last time I moved was from Caminoto El Rincon (by CVMS and rec) to Palmilla (behind TPHS). That wasn't a big move. It didn't count or influence me too much. Plus, if it did have any effect, it was that feeling of moving from some place to a better place. What we've done is move from that better place, to...some place, admittedly worse. All those preconceived notions my father had about choosing the right home? The good locations, the socio-economics...those factors don't seem to exist here. Justin's right, I'm in the middle of no where. Well, further up from no where, seeing as I'm on the border.
The last time I moved from better to worse was...in 2003, when I said goodbye to all my 6th grade friends in the middle of the school year. How stupid of me, never to have told them- to wait until that last day, when my mom came to pick me up, and they said their byes in the hallway. But that was just something I didn't think about then. I felt pretty bad because of it, though- The first thing I noted upon walking in that new condo was "It's not as big as Uncle's house," which we had been staying at during our last few months in Houston. My dad heard me, yelled at me, lectured me. I get it now. But I just hated it. Not the place, the situation. It took a good year or so before I found new friends at CVMS. I mean, I had some at Del Mar Heights- but we weren't close, and that lingering sentiment from my other half of 6th grade was still present inside me.
I'm eighteen years old. It's my first year of college,
and I feel like I'm in the sixth grade again.
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