The Little Things

It's funny how the little things that people say to comfort you turn out to be more painful than anything they'd say to deliberately hurt you.

Something odd happened today.

I was at a friend's house today and he showed me the new Alienware computer that was coming out (the "All Powerful"). He had to leave for a club banquet, so I had my mom pick me up before he left. When I was at home, I updated my facebook status. Everything seemed perfectly normal, even when another friend commented on my status.

I made a joke about feeling "all powerful" and he went on to ask me what CPU the computer had. I didn't remember, but I did have the link to the article on Engadget, so I just gave him that. He didn't reply for a while, so I just assumed that he signed off or something, but later, he commented back, saying how it was a nice laptop and that I deserved it.

That really hurt.

"Deserve." I don't deserve anything. I'm a horrible person who's done horrible things. I'm only sixteen and already, my life's full of sin. So many mistakes, so many wrongs. I've done terrible things. I don't deserve anything that brings me any sort of pleasure or happiness. All I deserve is what I've inflicted upon others. All I really deserve is punishment for my sins.

"You reap what you sow." Not so for me...

People always comment on how "wonderful" a person I am for volunteering my Saturdays at the hospital or for willingness to help anybody. When my motives were questioned, (i.e. volunteer hours for college transcript, etc) I told them I did these things simply out of altruism. While that may be true, it's only one side of the coin. I truly do feel happy when I see someone smile but I'm not always smiling because they're smiling. I do what I do because I hope that this could somehow atone for my misdeeds. By volunteering, by helping at church, by tutoring, by doing all these things, I try to erase the blood on my shirt. But no matter how hard I try, the stains won't come off.

In the Quiet

The somber music drifts from the speakers as the keyboard is tickled and the guitar is strummed. This ambiance joins the sniffles in the air as a single voice breaks through the quiet noise. A prayer is spoken and tears are shed. All is still. All is quiet. For a moment, time is still. A strange calm fills the air while children pour out their souls.

You take my mourning and turn it into dancing
You take my weeping and turn it into laughing
You take my mourning and turn it into dancing
You take my sadness and turn it into joy...

They huddle together as the instruments continuously spin out their ambient tune. Hairs stand on the backs of necks as together they cry out in silence to the heavens.

You take my mourning and turn it into dancing
You take my sadness and turn it into joy...

Schizophrenic Ninjas Stole My Pizza

Sweaty nights and soaked sheets
It was all a dream

Frantically pacing the floor
Waiting for a response
Wishing for a sign

Pull the trigger
It was supposed to be a dream
Do you believe in God?

Saint Peter doesn't know my name
Nobody knows who I am
Just a speck in the vacuum

Hitchhiking in the rain
Pepperoni falls from the sky
Its metallic flavour flooding my senses

Sharpie tattoos
Empty Gatorade bottles
I write sins and sing tragedies

Late night texts and early morning prison calls
Windows as clear as mud
Birds stealing my movies

The schizophrenic ninjas
They won't stop screaming
They stole my pizza
And now I can't find my watch

I can't understand the meat bees
They're so loud
I can't hear them at all

Because...of them

Because...of you

Because...of me



It was all a dream

We Run the Pepperoni

Of Dice and Men

[A little something that sprung into my head a couple days ago. It has since then been "refined."]

You see, we people are like dice. Every morning, we wake up, take a roll, and the side that comes up is who we are for the day. We all have different sides to ourselves; some people are four-sided, some are six, and some are 20. God forbid we meet or are a 100-sided die. But even though we see so many different sides, remember that all of those sides are still on the same die. It's still the same person.

However true that may be, we need to realize that it's not necessarily good to be a six or ten-sided die. Sometimes, life happens and we lose a side or gain another. Whatever the case, we need to be mindful of what side of ourselves we are showing to the world. That being said, we need to not have so many sides to ourselves. Eventually, we lose our true identity and live life with these masks that take over our own self. Be the one-sided die that nothing can roll. Be yourself and nothing else.

Acid Rain

Acid rain falls from below
Scorching even the littlest dove
Weathering at the rocks beloved
It runs so deep

So deep it pierces the soul
So painful it makes angels weep
So wonderful we eat it by the bowl
So scathing it kills in our sleep

I say, run now
No matter how difficult, I make this vow
Sail away in your little dinghy
Or I'll cut your eye out with a spoon-knife thingy

I'll cut it out and make you see
That this acid rain is not meant to be
I'll cut it out to make you free
And you'll scream like a banshee

This rain was taken from you
It rained down on his tree and that was your due
You know this to be true

Acid rain
It only brings pain
Not something you should entertain
For he came for your blame
And to dance in it is a shame

Mother's Day Poem

a poem I wrote for my mother. (the pictures were on a "transforming card" I gave her)

Five Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words
Well, here are five thousand
Each word a different memory

Every picture has a story
All have something to share
To each, I give an anecdote to bear

These are but a few
A few words put on paper on cue
This but a little “thank you” from me to you

Words from the heart
To spin them out is truly an art
And from me to you I do impart

So here are the other words I want to say:
In my own special way,
Happy Mother’s Day

My Mask

Depression is a strange thing. It is this state of being where we can no longer feel any joy or happiness. Instead, all that flows in our veins is sadness and often times, self-loathing.

I'm no stranger to depression as I myself have experienced it a number of times. Of course, I am not referring to clinical depression, (that sort of condition is best diagnosed by a doctor and not by oneself) but rather a perpetual state of unhappiness. Funniest thing is, there was once a time when I was depressed for many weeks, but no one noticed. No, it's not because nobody cared about me, (at least I'm hoping that wasn't the reason) but it was because I hid it every single day with this false mask of happiness. I would venture out of my room every day to stalk the earth with my plastic smile and painted eyes of glee, preventing any of my peers from seeing what I was truly feeling inside.

I am reminded of something I saw a long time ago:

Every night, before I sleep,
What I saw, I then must reap.
It isn't guilt inside that I keep,
But loneliness that scars me deep.
The solus makes me want to weep.
None feel this deep, so I weep.

Strangest part is, even though it was only last year that I felt so lonely and depressed, the feelings never truly left. Yes, they faded, but not completely. Even though I am in a happy relationship with Brenda, I still can't help but feel alone. I rarely see her and every time we do, I dread our goodbyes. But sadly, it isn't physical loneliness that plagues me, but emotional. I know that I can tell Brenda anything, (as well as several other friends) but I don't want to worry her. I don't want her, or anybody for that matter, to feel the same pangs of depression that burn away at me every day.

I still don my mask, hiding myself from the rest of the world, though not every day now. There are people who are there for me. I know that I can tell them anything and they'll listen, but I can't. I'm too scared-no-too prideful to open myself up like that.

Crying myself to sleep isn't the best way to fall asleep, so I lay awake in my bed. I just lay there staring into space, straying out of time as I go over myself and my sins.

A Wonderful Thing

Hello there my pleasant friend/I hope you love this face I rend?/My little death to hell I send/When will the beauty ever end? - Mike Rojas

My God, my God, would you look at the time?
There's no way I can finish my crime
I guess we'll have to skip the tank of chyme

Now remind me if I don't remember
Which part of you was it that I chose to dismember?
No matter, your arm looks wonderful on this December

My goodness, I'm so sorry
I didn't realize your knees don't go well with calamari
Oh well, we shall still have fun on this night so starry

Liver, heart, and eyes galore!
The smell of this gore is what I truly adore
Into your intestines do I now explore

What?! That's not where you insert a catheter?
Well, this is the methodology I do prefer
Geez, it's already 10? Damn, time flies in a blur

Cath'd blood in a wine glass
A freshly grilled piece of ass
Tonight, I dine in class

As I finished my dinner, did I then wonder:
What's this wonderful thought I ponder?



I think I shall call it murder






Why are you doing this to me, Saff?
Because I love you, Laura Whitehurst
...
You've filled my heart to the the point of burst
...
And you, my love, shall be my first

A Lifetime in Seconds

The minutes tick by endlessly
Each second as long as a lifetime
Memories of the days of yore pour in

Joys, successes, triumphs
Relationships, friends, family
Failures, mistakes, sins

A conscience as clear as crystal
But as cloudy as a stormy sky
What is this?

Smile as the thoughts of loved ones pass by
Cringe as the memories of failures pierce the heart
An entire lifetime in five seconds

A tingly feeling in my arms
Hairs standing tall on the back of my neck
My life is flashing before my very eyes



And I cry

In the End

Runs far and wide
Flies freely up and down
Crosses mountains with a single stride

It has no bounds
It has no captors
It chooses who it crowns

We all yearn for it
Some never experience its warmth
Others see it fall apart every day bit by bit

Yet there are still others
Others who see it grow between themselves
These are the ones we call lovers

You know of what I speak
You see it among the masses
Is it not also what you seek?

Do not dismay, my young friend
Love is a repeating trend
You will find it before the end

Blessed Depression

Today was a bit of an eye opener for me. Well, maybe I should start at the beginning.

We had a game against Charter Oak today and I had absolutely no idea that we had one. Even though I didn't have my uniform, I was still obligated to go since I failed to go to any of the three games last week (which resulted in several consequences, all horrible on various planes). Despite my lack of proper attire, I still asked Coach if I could play singles, so she subbed me in for Kevin in the final round. While I was playing against Ben, (the player from Charter Oak) I was doing quite well, seeing how I was up 5-3. Unfortunately, I goofed up the rest of the game and ended up losing 5-7.

I had lost many times before, this year and last, but for some reason, this loss came with the most crushing realization: I always lost every single game I played. I always lost.

I'm no stranger to defeat. I've messed up and lost out to the better of my peers countless times, yet this loss clung to me with its vice-like grip. I felt (and feel) so depressed. Was I really that bad? I'm always out of the spotlight: never placed at the position of honour for being the best in well, anything. It was always second place or third place or last place for me.

For years, I've stood on the sidelines, helping other people take up the torch and watching as they raced to first. I don't think I've ever been the "winner" or "first place" in anything. The closest I ever got to that spot of honour was when I was holding it up for someone else. Am I really destined to lose every single time?

Do you know what it's like to lose every single time? To always come in last place either because you weren't good enough or because you gave up to let someone else win? I don't know why it's bugging me so much that I always lose. It used to be second nature of me to pass into the quiet as I held up someone else as victor and number one. Helping others at my own expense used to be something I'd done for so long that it felt like it was the only thing I could do.

But God calls upon us to be humble. In Ephesians, He tells us, "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." And in 1 Peter, the apostle Paul says, "Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble." I've tried to follow God ever since I knew Him, but I always fell short. It's so easy to burst out onto the spotlight as the best of the best, receiving praise from those around you, but it's so hard to stay humble and remain quiet on the sidelines as you clap for the person who did win.

So what now? Do I just wallow in the poison of my own self-pity? Or should I just go on with this rant and never stop complaining about how hard it is to listen to God?

I asked God why this happened to me. I wondered why this repetition never ceased and why I was never "number one." As I sat on the bus on the way home, I asked Him this and He reminded me of three things: my churchies, school friends, and Brenda. I remembered the joy it brought me when I served alongside my fellow churchies in missions and how happy I felt whenever I saw the faces of my friends light up when they understood something after we reviewed course material. But what stuck out in my mind the most was Brenda. I remembered the times when we just talked endlessly online and when I went out with her to the mall the last day of spring break. I remembered when I asked her out to prom and the excitement and anxiety I felt as I repeated to her the little "speech" I worked on for hours. I remembered when I was at prom with her and how beautiful she was in her dress. I remembered the happiness she brought into my heart and the smile she brought to my face every single time she entered my mind.

God did all of this for me: He brought all of these people into my life. I was never first place or the winner in sports or academia, but I'll be damned if I wasn't a winner in God's book. He blessed me with all of these people who brought such joy and love into my weary heart and I thank Him for that.