Dreaming

Who is that over there?
That figure in the crowd?
No, it's not.
It's not her.

Perhaps that one?
No, too tall.

She's everywhere,
But she's not even here.

That voice:
I can still hear it,
But only through the phone.

Her smile:
Shining on mine every morn
Is naught but a small photograph.

Someone please wake me.
This can't be real.


Kiss me, please.
Hold me, I beg you.
Call my name.

I want to know that you're here.

We can't be so far apart.


But we are.



You aren't here


Because I am.

It's Only Been 4 Weeks

Though it's only been about 4 weeks into the Autumn quarter, I can't help but feel so overwhelmed by all that I have to do. Japanese has been, by far, the most difficult thing that I've had to deal with and I suspect that the next few years won't be getting any easier. Multivariable calculus has been what calculus has been: difficult in the beginning and marginally easier to comprehend as the course continues. I'm hoping that I won't have to take any more math classes at the UW since this is already the final course in the calculus series.

Everything has been such a time-suck lately. Glee is the one class that is fun, but after the late-night and weekend rehearsals for the Paccar Hall processional and the Husky game, I haven't had a moment's respite in what seems to be ages. I've missed fellowship meetings for the past two weeks because I either had Glee rehearsal or just too much homework to do.

Thankfully, I've been able to hang out with one of the people I met at orientation in June. We'd sometimes get lunch or just hang out for a while in the afternoon. I think that if I didn't have those few hours every so often of not having to care so much, I'd go insane with everything piling up around me.

Yesterday, we made some rice balls for lunch and watched "Bad Boys II." It's amazing what those few hours did for me because I didn't realize how stressed I was until everything melted away when I first put that clump of rice in my hand. It's been so long since I've had some genuine rice and even longer since I've made any food.

Sadly, all my stress came back in a single flash last night with a single phone call. I haven't had dinner in the past two days and after a 3-hour screening at the Anime Club with some friends from my Japanese class, I was starving. Sadly, the cafeteria closes earlier on the weekend, so I couldn't find anything substantial to eat, so I took a shower and went back to my dorm. It had been three days since I last talked to Brenda online and I was a bit too tired to turn on my computer, so I just flopped onto my bed and called her. After a while, Brenda mentioned that during this winter break, she would be going back to Taiwan again.

I can't remember the last time I cried so hard.

My heart completely shattered the moment she said "Taiwan." I think the reason why they call it "winter break" and "summer break" is because something always gets broken because of them. It's so hard to cry yourself to sleep over something so simple as "I love you."

And it's even harder to wake up with tears still in your eyes.

It's Very Cold Here

I think my loathing of this place grows slowly after each passing day.

Back in LA, I suppose you could say I was a person of relative importance. But here, I'm nothing. I'm just a little California boy who's two shades too dark and completely blinded by the flood of plaid everywhere.

I guess the reason why I love to travel so much is because I never felt like I belonged in one particular place, so I kept moving around trying to find it. I once thought that when I was in Hong Kong, I'd feel "right," but I didn't, so I kept looking. Freshman year in high school, I jumped at the chance to fly over to Europe for about 10 days. The trip was wonderful, but it wasn't what I was looking for either.

The strangest thing is that I never really felt like I fit anywhere. Ever since I was a kid, I felt the presence of this strange wall of glass that followed me everywhere, keeping me separated from everyone else. The same went for high school and at church, even. I never felt like I fit. I couldn't find that one place that "clicked" with me. I've always been that odd puzzle piece that didn't quite fit anywhere.

I thought that by going to Seattle, I'd find this "home" that everybody else seems to have, but I've only come up empty.

Life in College

Whenever you're about to go off the college, everybody says the same thing: "oh, dude, you have so much freedom to do whatever you want since you only take like, 3 classes every day" or something to that effect.

That is a bald-faced lie.

Ever since my parents left me to my own devices at UW, amidst the learning to live with another person in my room and the unusually short classes, I have yet to come across this "complimentary freedom" that everyone was telling me about [as opposed to the complimentary refuse that the cafeteria refers to as "Asian Slaw"].

Seriously, where is my complimentary freedom? I want my money back.

I realized then that, with the start of college, I felt the weight of responsibility crushing my shoulders into dust. I had to navigate the maze of buildings that students here call "campus" and spent so much time going over my homework and trying to find a fellowship and church that by the time all was said and done, it was close to midnight. I had homework due after the first day. I had a hell of a time figuring out how to type in scientific notation on my computer because apparently, there's a special way to do it on WebAssign. I had to actually use my solutions manual because my multivariable calculus teacher was teaching how to graph in 3D space when we didn't even cover it in high school in my BC class. I had listen to my Japanese teacher communicating to us only in Japanese ON THE FIRST FREAKING DAY.

I had to.

I.

Me.

Not "we."

"Alone."

Even when it came to finding a church and a fellowship/bible study group, I was doing it. In the midst of all this, I had lost sight of what was most important. It wasn't a "we" effort, it was me going it alone.



Another thing people told me about college is that it's easy to forget about God.



And I have done just that.

The Humanity of Subways

As the train approaches, everybody rushes to the doors. Some make it well on time while others barely pass through as the doors begin to close. People, of all origins and homes, moving toward one single direction. They all progress in one direction as the automated transport moves along its designated path. Like a nagging mother or overly concerned teacher, the automated message repeats: Please mind the gap – doors are closing.

Merely seconds after the train begins its progression, a man begins to fumble with the shopping bags his wife has left with him while the 5-year-old girl starts yelling out “excuse me!” at the top of her lungs since she only learned it earlier this morning. Be it their iPods or baggage, the train’s passengers are enveloped in their own world – all focused on themselves. Suddenly, the train slows and suddenly comes to a jerking halt. All these passengers, of different worlds and focused so intently on themselves, find themselves in unison once more, shifting two inches to the right at the sudden stop the train has made.

Strange to see that in order to bring these people together, as one, all it takes is a single jerk.

Alone

Ever since the Global Leadership Summit ended, I've had this strange feeling that something was encompassing my person. I didn't know what it was at the moment since I was riding the "spiritual high" that comes with these sorts of events. Soon after though, about 3 hours later, really, I found myself at Youth Fellowship doing what I usually did, and that same feeling filled my entire being. I didn't know what it was, but it felt cold. It wasn't that I felt empty on the inside, but that I felt emptiness on the outside.

I'm not entirely sure if this was a feeling that simply manifested immediately after the Summit. I keep thinking that this plaguing sensation had more than once clouded my presence many times during the week. Even today during Bible study, I still felt this strange coldness wrapping around me. Every person I met felt far off in the distance and was unusually inaudible. Suddenly, everything that was happening with other people was something that would occur when I was far off somewhere else: today's little craft session was during my volunteer shift and the Youth sleepover will be happening when I'm all the way in Hong Kong and Brenda's starting college when I'm overseas as well.

For the longest time, I didn't know what this was, this strange feeling that depressed me to the point where I lay in bed crying for no apparent reason. Up until about five minutes ago, I realized that what I am feeling is loneliness. I haven't been able to talk to anybody and all I really wanted was to just be around people and when I was, things were ok for a while. Usually, when I figure out what my problem is, I can deal with it almost immediately, but I haven't been able to shake this feeling of solitude. It hurts so much and I have absolutely no idea why it does or why I feel so alienated.

I've never felt more alone.

The way You Look Tonight [and every Day Thereafter]

One concept I often had trouble grasping is the idea of pretty women.

And by that, I mean "pretty" in terms of physical appearance.

This past Sunday, I went out with a few friends and near the end of our day together, we got into an interesting discussion over the attractive qualities of the finer sex: namely, their appearances. To be honest, I never really thought about a woman as "hot" or "cute." When I see a girl, the first thought that comes to mind is "oh, girl," and occasionally, "why is that purse the size of a luggage bag?" The thought of staring at a girl's body and not just at her is something unusually foreign to me and is probably why I will never understand the obsession men hold for Megan Fox.

Another instance of this concept of paying attention to a person's physical appearance happened yesterday, actually. Oddly enough, this happened while I was with my girlfriend and one of her friends, who, interestingly enough, was a girl as well. We were visiting a friend's house and as we walked from the parking lot in the trailer complex, Brenda's friend commented on how Brenda has lost weight since the trip to Taiwan. She asked me if I noticed this too and I honestly did not know what to say, which made me realize that I had never once paid attention to Brenda's physical appearance [aside from the occasional remark about her hair and her new piercings]. I didn't want to "lie" and say "yes," since I didn't know, so I responded by saying that I didn't know because I didn't pay attention to things like that.

Like how the idea of classifying the appearance of another person as "hot" or "cute" is foreign to me, the idea that this kind of stuff is foreign to me is quite often foreign to other people. It's hard for me to communicate my position because, quite frankly, I have never met another person who thinks like I do in this situation. I keep wondering if it is a blessing or utter ignorance that causes me to view people in such a manner where I only see them as people and not as a person who is "really really ridiculously hawt" or something to that effect. I'm not saying I can't tell when a person looks good, but I can't see it in such a way that inspires the "lust" portion of my brain to fire off like fireworks on the 4th of July.

In Sanity

Look there, my friend.
Is that a clown?
Eating his own foot?
The flowers told him so.

Is this opposite day?
I'm supposed to be doing that:
Supposed to be doing nothing.
Nothing at all? I'll help.

Children...
Cheating on their spelling tests.
Causing trouble to no end.
Crying won't help. Cremate them instead.

This house is a mess!
There's so much rice on the floor -
The pencils are in the wall.
Then burn it down and start over.

What do you see here?
This means something.
It's not just ink on a notecard.
The real butterflies are on the wallpaper.

The Reality of It

In the real world:
Superheroes have broken bones.
They are covered in bruises.
Most are actually dead.
[And sidekicks are meat-shields.]

In the real world:
Evil is victorious.
Bad guys have aim.
And the zombies always win.

In the real world:
There are no superheroes.
Bad guys are selling iPods and candy.
And the drunk hobo is not a zombie.

In the real world:
Everything is meaningless.
We live - we die.
All underneath the sun.

But only

Underneath the sun.

Only

In this world.

The Greatest Tool

How dare he
Put this on me.
Infringe upon my senses-
So easily.

This burden-
It was never mine.
Always his own-
Always his fault.

He could have changed.
Changed their minds
To spare himself
From acting so clandestinely.

Instead, he hides
Like a coward-
In a crowd.
In the dark.
Behind others.
Behind me.

He is my friend,
So I will still stand
By him and her
With a hollow smile
Filled with rage and bile.

But to have the audacity
To lay this burden upon me.
I am offended that he
Would do without agree.

A second time does he try,
Act upon instinct and anger, will I.
Then out he will go.
Out and down from that window.

The Two

The fog as dense as iron
Its presence all around
Hovering outside the windows
Clouding the streetlights

Her hair flowing gently in the breeze-
An embrace for warmth
Follows a stone-cold wind

A bright porch with a well
Precedes a dim and warm hall.
And within resounds a single whisper:
"I love you."

One stands on the carpet, barefoot.
The other, on the cold tile with shoes.
They hold on for dear life
As if the rift would end them both.

In this place stands two:
Star-crossed souls.

A heart beats strong
As a mouth breathes deeper.
Alternating with themselves.
In unison with each other.

He should go, as she reminds him so,
But he will not spin about on his toe.
Instead, showing her what his heart felt long ago.

The Math Rap

Cruising down the series in my tricked out limit.
I ain't going forever 'cause it's convergent!

I holla at my squares and say "yo" to my rhombi,
I check out them circles and think: "Damn, I need some of that pi"

2.718 is the way I roll.
Never touch my stash or I'll send you to L'Hopital!
Look at me, I'm all doped up on e
Integrating acceleration just to get some velocity.

You won't be able to differentiate between my x and y
And even if you tried,
You'd only get 2/3
(Because the plane is higher than the bird)

Screw the math gods, I make my own fate.
Hear me when I say...that sine of pi equals 2 plus 8

All I need is the ratio and root test.
I use them like a bulletproof vest.
I'm diverging things you've never seen.
(At least you shouldn't until you're eighteen)

I'm a math gangster, in case you hadn't noticed.
Differentiation is my way to subsist.
And I'm deriving formulas with a flick of the wrist.

Falling Apart

I feel.
Different,
Changed,
Exactly the same.

There is.
Happiness,
Glee,
Severe pain.

A problem child
Who breaks it all-
Every bone in his body

The hurt flows
Beneath all the flesh
Like napalm.

My arms have gone limp-
Legs on fire-
My head is reeling-
But only the heart remains untouched.

It spreads out through the flapping meat,
Pumping in a stream of life-
The only cohesion in this chaos.

This passion,
This love,
There is nothing left-
Nothing but this.

Oh...

I've read all the gospels and I've read books from both the Old and New Testaments in the Bible. I go to church and understand the so-called "deep" and "adult-level" discussions (for crying out loud, sometimes, I know more than the adults do). Saying that I am a bible scholar is going too far, but I am very adept at interpreting the passages in the Bible. I know what the scriptures say and I know what they mean. But even with all of this...religious rabble and Bible knowledge, I still cannot understand what it is like to be loved by God.

I have read the gospels and I know why Jesus came to die for our sins and that God loves us, but obviously, knowing is different from understanding and experiencing. There were always those times when we would cry at the church retreats, when we could feel God's presence filling the space in the room, but I never cried because I could feel his love - no, I cried because I could feel the weight of my sins crushing my heart.

Jesus came down to Earth and died on the cross so that his blood would wash away our sins so that we may ascend to heaven one day, but I've never felt this sense of purity or cleanliness. I was taught to forgive and forget the transgressions of other people, but such a thing is not so easy when it comes to my own person. I say this because, other than God, I am the only other people who knows myself well enough to understand my motives and thoughts. Knowing that, the path to purity and forgiveness seems to stretch on forever in an equally endless void.

Perhaps I feel this way because I still hold on to my past so tightly. But I absolutely cannot let go. I do not know why I hold on to the chains of my pain. I think I just fear that if I let go, everything will disappear. If I let go, I will lose everything and I will be nothing more than a meek sheep on the dark road of life. To suddenly be free of this pain doesn't seem just. I have been the source of much grief and pain of so many others that it isn't fair for me to just erase everything I've done as if I was not even in their lives. It's only fair that I feel the pain that I caused.