[insert inside joke here]

Euphoria

2012-02-16T20:39:00.000-08:00

What bliss is this
That saps my life?
A longing missed
By the tip of a knife

Euphoria abounds
All about the Town
While Death makes his rounds
So keep your hearts down

Bottles of Joy and Cheer
Run rampant over thee
Is it the wine or the beer
That makes me forget me?

Life's lovely passion
Grows thorns and blood
As the soul turns ashen
The body goes thud

I solemnly swear
That I'm not okay
That I'm pulling out hair
That I regret my do and say

Run! The Soul calls
And the weak knee falls
Soaring past the walls
Making late night phone calls

And on the cold, wet dirt

And in the cold

And cold

And

I fly

Wait,

I cry

No,

I die.

A Story

2012-02-14T18:45:00.000-08:00

Oh, love that was and is
Is her hand holding his
Dancing in the moonlight
[Thank goodness we're the same height]

For a while, they took to parting
She could no longer hear his farting
And to he, a lonely sleep
In the solus, he will weep

As days grew in the sole
A longing came to be whole
Late night calls and
Wishes to hold her hand

A pain stabbing within
Just as deep was its twin
The knife drew not blood
But rather, tears in flood

Time grew at length
Slowly sapping strength
Pain made his words slurred
Praying to be like a bird

To fly far and true
Through the sky so blue
And to hold his beloved
To share with her a bed

And they were joined again
Driven to heights of happy zen
Twirling around in a bliss
Sharing that long-awaited kiss

There is no greater joy than this:
To see the love he had missed
To hold her in his arms so tight
To rejoice in such delight
To share their laughter
To be a foreverafter
To feel her touch
To love so much

Wunderland

2011-07-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

You -
I know Your face
and Your place.

Yet, You stand
here, by my side.
And She is over
there in the distance.

This haziness
This confusion
This: Fear.

Plastic in its incarnation.
Hollow as the wind - yet,
powerful enough

to blow me away.
to sweep away memory.
to destroy my foundation.

Stop.
Not one
step closer to my
lips.

Feeling -
of your embrace
of your touch -
is wrong.

No!
You cannot be here!
This is not Your place!
It belongs to.....
....someone else.

Frightened tears.
I wake.

A promise I made -
but, to who?

Who is She?
It cannot be You

And with the smile upon my wall,
my eyes open.

Odd Man Out

2011-05-26T23:13:00.000-07:00

looking back,
and looking on

You're all. jerks and assholes.
filling spaghetti in your bowls
while making a Mockery

of my Heart.
in a Place i felt no shame,
you toyed with It like a game.

You.
and your wishes of Darkness -
and your Perverted phones

inconceivably indecipherable
to Me
and me Alone.

to Know. and
not understand. at all.
How?

could you Dare
and hand yourself that.
Title?

NO
you have None.

must i wander Alone?
you're all right There.
yet so far Away.

Dreaming

2010-12-01T21:42:00.000-08:00

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

2010-10-23T09:05:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-10T09:48:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-05T09:55:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-09T08:17:00.000-07:00

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

2010-08-07T22:57:00.000-07:00

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]

2010-08-05T18:24:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-29T07:58:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-17T20:10:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-29T21:04:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

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

2010-03-15T22:25:00.001-07:00

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

2010-02-25T18:10:00.000-08:00

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...

2010-01-14T18:45:00.000-08:00

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.

Purge

2009-12-23T21:19:00.000-08:00

A while ago, I started reading this manga-like webcomic called "MegaTokyo." At first, I was intrigued by the artistry and stylistic idiosyncrasies of the artist, but I was eventually drawn into the actual storyline. At one point in the story, one of characters, Ping (she's more of a robot, but she's unusually human), was affected by a explosion set off by a massive build-up of static electricity. When she comes to, she absolutely cannot stop crying. Eventually, "Ping’s problem is traced to her emotion programming correcting errors (directly quoted from synopsis on the MegaTokyo website)." In essence, it was an emotional purge.

I bring this idea of "self-emotional-purge" and crying because lately, crying is all that I've been thinking about. In the story, Ping's unstoppable fit of crying stems from her body correcting errors in her emotional system, which is essentially one of the main purposes of crying. I remember in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix that Ron was talking about how Cho would explode because of everything that she was feeling, and lately, I've felt just like that. My mind is just flooded by everything that I've been through in such a short amount of time - and the non-stop performances for choir (and one for church) have only added to my stress level and worn me out even more.

Like nearly every person on the planet, I, too, have bottled up my emotions in a high-pressure bottle and left it in my emotional vault with the other hundreds of bottles. This build-up of emotion is really starting to get to me and I fear that I just might explode at the worst possible moment and destroy everything. Fear, shame, frustration, rage, sadness, incompetence - they're all boiling up and my cup is starting to overflow.

Frustration

2009-12-03T21:41:00.000-08:00

Break me out of here

These bars are suffocating
I refuse to stay in this sphere
Until use and old age accept these rings

The flames are fueled by my blood
My mind is lost in this void
Swimming aimlessly in life's flood
Pain growing like it's on steroids

Why am I this way?
Why is there no refuge?
Why am I disgusted by life's buffet?
Why is it filled with such refuse?

Everything is bottled inside
Because there are so many bleeding hearts
And for them, I must provide
Lest they be riddled with darts

I cannot afford a lapse
And let them bleed evermore
I cannot allow myself to collapse
For they will be ignored

To release my frustration
I must scream and cry
But I cannot give in to this temptation
Lest I let everything waste away and die

A Wall of Glass

2009-11-29T20:44:00.000-08:00

The glass that separates you and I
Is not visible to your eye
Even when this clear pane
Is covered in my tears and rain

This window is too thick
Yet I can still hear your voice
I hope to burn it down like a candle wick
Will you accept this, my choice?

To break down this barrier
And make our lives merrier
I will walk through hell and back
Just to give this window a crack

You do not know
That this window is mine, though
I had it when I met you
I loved you, yet I still knew
That this glass was there
Always between you and me in the air

This is Mine [not Yours]

2009-11-24T22:32:00.000-08:00

This is:
My life
My story
My Pain.

This is:
Not your worry
Not your secret locked in a vault
Not your Fault

This is not:
A fairytale
A post-modern work of art
A Song of Innocence

This is my grief
This is my untold face
This is my Hell

These are my true colours
These are my scars
These are my Sins

Listen to my "Emo Symphony"
Listen to the screams of my heart
Listen to this song of Death

This is mine:
My life -
My Pain.
It is not yours,
But you are welcome to revel in It.

Happy Birthday to Brenda

2009-11-24T22:29:00.001-08:00

This is a poem I wrote in a card in made in my crafts class a while ago for Brenda's birthday. I've been meaning to put this up for a while now. For some reason, the more I look at this poem, the more I think I could have done an exponentially better job.

It has been nine months since that day
The day that I told you I had something to say
I was worried, scared, and anxious
The feelings for you that I suppressed
All came out the moment I confessed

When it was returned, I was overjoyed
I feared my heart would be destroyed
Instead, the space was filled, my heart's void

The few times we spent together were the best days of all
So few times, but so many memories I can recall
I love you so much that I thought I'd fall
Whenever I saw you, at prom, or at the mall

It has been nine months since that day
And now, I have one more thing to say:
Brenda, Happy Birthday

I have not the Heart

2009-10-30T21:57:00.000-07:00

I have not the heart
To tell you my pain
To show you my wounds
To let you see my true self

Shall I let you,
Look upon me and see these scars?
Hold my bleeding soul in your hands?
Carry my cross along the journey towards eternity?
I tell you, I have not the heart

This is the Lie:
The only one I will ever tell you
That when the whole world comes crashing down
You will only ever see my smile

You won't see my pain
You will never see my sorrow
You cannot see my shame
Because I have not the heart,
To let you fall down with me

A Cheery Night Turned Dark and Dreary

2009-09-10T17:19:00.000-07:00

The sounds of footsteps grow louder every day
The clouds have turned to ash
And I cannot run away

But you gouged your claws
Sank them in the darkness
And tore up the night

And on this night
We will see
If trust can be
'Tween you and me

For none is so deep
Nothing so piercing
As the thorns from thine heart

In this crowd of smiles and laughs
Watch closely, I say
Pull out your spyglass
And through it, you will see the face of dismay

Your gift to me
Is like a thorny rose
Beautiful for the beholder to see
Hold it tighter and make me bleed

This rose will birth a never-ending rain
So dank that it distracts me from my pain
So thick and opaque, this bane

The rain falls
Its droplets turn to blood
As they stream down my cheek

Use that spyglass from your high place
Watch closely, you sycophantic clown
And see my face as I drown

Secret

2009-08-13T23:12:00.000-07:00

The tears he shed
As he fell from his bed
Looking upon scraped knees where he bled
Flowing as a river bright red
Out comes a bright white thread
He sews his wound together like a couple being wed

Smiles, giggles, and laughs
Working with friends on crafts
Spilling glitter on mats with oversized graphs

Refusing to believe that his fate was sealed
He runs across the battlefield
Bearing neither sword nor shield
Only with his heart, against the enemy he refuses to yield

His birth was his curse
But to others, this verse
Was a blessing disguised as his hearse

Unable to refuse their cry
Flying does he come to their side
Never asking when or why
Always lifting them to the sky

A person who dares to defy
The status quo and refuses to die
Never saying good-bye
Remaining steadfast forever whenever things go awry

Yet he stands alone
Like a statue of stone
In a garden of sins he cannot atone
Wearing him down to the bone
Yet to all, his suffering is unknown

Daikokuya - Hacienda Heights

2009-08-08T21:24:00.000-07:00

"When you're hungry, everything tastes better," was the quote I had in mind when I first stepped into the recently opened Daikokuya Japanese ramen house in Hacienda Heights. In an attempt to completely subject my palette and stomach (and possibly sanity) to the whims of the female waitresses and male cooks of the establishment, I had come to the shop neither hungry nor full, but rather a gray area in between to best judge its cuisine.

The place had both a new-age and retro atmosphere about it. While the flooring and contemporary tables and chairs were made of a strange conglomeration of veneer and solid wood with a dark walnut finish, the off-white walls were armed with an array of the "standard" random Japanese paraphernalia, ranging from old movie posters to ads that had no relevance whatsoever to the ramen shop. The open kitchen design was a clever move to give the establishment a more contemporary feel, but was obscured by the wooden divider between the register and the seating area, which was small, but adequate to serve a large number of patrons simultaneously. I noticed the drop ceiling above the register was also made of the same veneer/solid wood conglomeration as the tables, with one unique difference, it had part of a tin roof attached to the end of it, with stainless steel lights dangling below, rather tacky, but not unexpected of the Japanese. The washroom was positioned in the back of the ramen shop, near the rear exit. Its walls were also lined likewise with old posters of Godzilla movies and newly-placed tiling with some mold already lining the caulking near the toilet. On the sink sat a bamboo fragrance oil, which surprisingly bore the Playboy rabbit logo on its vase. However, compared to most Asian establishments, these washrooms were particularly cleaner than most, thus making them all the more "comfortable" to operate.

When I first stepped into the newly-opened establishment, I noticed something rather remarkable, something lacking in most other Asian restaurants: a lack of efficiency and experience. I first guessed that the female waitresses were inexperienced amateurs when I saw one of them attempt to stack the used cups from a vacated table, which immediately toppled over and spilled onto the wooden floor, and try to clean up the mess with paper towels. My assumptions were confirmed when two of the four were standing in the middle of the establishment, which was half empty (though its exteriour was definitely not lacking in hungry and possibly disgruntled patrons), while trying to figure out how to seat the customers waiting outside. I watched the debacle unfold as the two squabbled back and forth for at least three minutes while other patrons inside the restaurants were finishing up their meals. The newbies eventually decided on their plan and began to call in and usher the waiting customers outside on the sidewalk. As they entered, the employees shouted overlaying Japanese greetings, which were impossible to understand, much less hear properly. However, when the waitresses had seated the parties, there were still three seats unaccounted for at the bar. They had forgotten about the last few seats (I know because I saw the list of parties, and the number of people did not equal the number of available seats) and began immediately to tend to the recently-seated. However, while the waitresses were inexperienced when it came to clearing tables and seating customers, they knew how to talk to the customers, at eye-level by kneeling down and actually talking to them, instead of just asking for their orders.

After what was about fifty minutes of waiting, my family and I were eventually seated at the aforementioned vacant spots at the bar. It took a total of about seven minutes for our food to arrive, to my mother and father, each a bowl of Daikoku ramen, and to me, a combo with a pork cutlet donburi (rice bowl). What I first noticed about the food was not the food, but rather the bowl in which the food was served. Compared to the bowls in J-Town, these were more angled from the bottom going to the top, which made them all the more smaller. It was a bit hard to notice, since the top of the bowl was of the same diameter as the bowls in Little Tokyo. The manager made a smart and cleverly concealed method of saving a bit more money with these smaller bowls (but not secret enough for it to go completely unnoticed). The ramen was, well, normal. It was exactly the same as the ones served in Little Tokyo. The pork and egg were of the same quality as the establishment in Little Tokyo, as expected. However, the soup was a different matter. When I slurped up the first spoonful of the legendary soup, I was met with a wave of disappointment. It was not as sweet nor as salty as the original. It was diluted! I was so disappointed. The soup, which was supposed to be the highlight and star of the meal, was nothing but coloured water. To add to my dismay, the pork cutlet donburi was of exceedingly substandard quality. The fried pork was soggy and extremely salty. There was no way that I could finish this disaster placed before me without a vomit bucket nearby.

All things considered, I must say that I am rather disappointed in Daikokuya - HH. While the design of the place was rather novel and unique, the establishment failed to live up to the standards excellence as established by its legendary predecessor in J-Town. The washrooms possessed items not suitable for all ages and the waitresses were all amateurs, incapable of neither seating nor serving their patrons quickly and efficiently. But worst of all, the food was disgusting. It left me unsatisfied and extremely thirsty. I couldn't believe that this establishment would even begin to think it could bear the name of Daikokuya without bringing shame to the name. It is unworthy of the name. But keep in mind that this was simply a soft opening, not an official grand opening, and because it is only a soft opening, I will give this place one more chance to redeem itself at the grand opening. If it cannot live up to the name of Daikokuya, the place might as well pack up and leave.

Rating: 2/5

Stand in the Rain

2009-08-05T20:30:00.001-07:00

Whenever I cry, I always think of the rain, and I am reminded of why I like it so much. I like the rain because its sound shuts out all other sounds from the world and its cold raindrops numb me from all feeling. When I'm drenched head to toe, when I'm soaked down to the point where every pore on my skin is filled with water, when all that rain is pouring around me and enveloping the world in itself, nobody can see me cry, and nobody can hear me scream.

One Short Day

2009-07-20T22:24:00.001-07:00

After Sunday morning worship, I went to go meet Brenda at Barnes and Noble because we were going to watch Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince with her friends. Everything was pretty normal; we (meaning Brenda and I) watched I Love You, Beth Cooper, which was actually not that bad of a movie. After the movie, we found her other friends watching Transformers 2 and watched for a bit before leaving to go save seats for Harry Potter.

Harry Potter was an okay movie. It left out some parts from the book that I was looking forward to seeing, (i.e. Dumbledore's funeral >.>) but aside from that, it was still, I think, a pretty good movie. After that movie was over, Brenda's friends went home and we sort of wandered around the mall for a while before deciding on splitting a cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne's. When we finished the pretzel, we walked around for a bit before she called her father to come pick her up.

When her father came to pick her up, we hugged (Why does that sound so weird to say? eh, maybe it's just me). To be honest, I didn't want to let go of her. I wanted to just hold her in my arms and never let go. But her dad was waiting for her in the car, so I couldn't.

...

Every time I see her, my heart is filled with an inexplicable joy. It may not seem like I'm ecstatic, and I'm sure that her friends who went with us (and she as well) could testify to that from the possibly emotionless expression on my face and lack of that lovey-dovey body language, but deep down, I'm practically skipping around with glee like those funny characters in manga.

When I held her, I didn't want to let go. Every time I hold her in my arms, I never wanted to let go. And every time I see her, every time we're together, every time we hug, all I want to do is cry because I'm so happy.

But something happened today. After she left, after I got home, after my parents left to go out on a walk, I cried. I laid on my bed and wept with such agony and pain that exploded out from the depths of my heart.

A while ago, someone (who shall of course remain nameless) asked me why I was in a relationship with Brenda. She didn't see how we high schoolers were in relationships with our peers at such a young age. I told her it was because Brenda filled the big, gaping emotional void in my heart. This person responded in kind by telling me that God is supposed to be enough to fill this emotional emptiness. That really wasn't what I meant, so I tried to rephrase: my heart is overflowing with love, and I need someone to pour that out onto, so in a sense, that was my emotional void, and Brenda was the one for me to show my love to (of course, that isn't the only reason why we're in a relationship, but I won't go into detail here).

It was because of this overflowing love that caused me to cry so deeply. I wept because I couldn't show this love to her. I couldn't smile, I couldn't hold her hand, I couldn't do anything. It was painful enough to not be able to show this love to her because we couldn't see each other, but now it hurts even more because I can't even show it to her when I am with her. It hurts so much that I can't do anything for her. I try so hard to make her happy, to show that I do love and care for her wholeheartedly, but I just screw up every single time.

...

Burn

2009-07-08T13:47:00.000-07:00

Parched lips and a burnt throat fill the mind
Crawling in the burning void
Searching for water

A suffocating heat none can escape
Burning crisp their fingertips
Drying out thine eyes
Setting ablaze their throats

Bodies collapse and fall to dust
Yet all still live on

Souls cry out to end this bodily drought
Yearning for the now unattainable death
The scorching sun deaf to their plight

All shall fall
And all shall burn
But none shall die
For this is Hell
And death cannot hear your cry

Palm Trees on Fire

2009-07-07T17:58:00.000-07:00

Bloodshot eyes see a world so blurred
The only thing in view but a bloody nest of a bird
What did I just say? That sounded so absurd

My eyes have yet to betray me
They take in so bloody and deathly a scene
But not even this can make me turn green

This strange world binds me in
Despair is our new god
And pain our new saviour
The ground births rusted thorns and burning horns

Kings and queens exercise dominion over all and none
Serfs reap in fields of sorrow and fire
Knights but pawns for the cold death awaiting

The stars
The planets
The entire universe
All an unending nothingness

A deep void of endless emptiness
A world where naught but ash and sulfur remain
A place for neither souls nor consciousness

Oh! The choir I direct shall exhale a great black silence!
Defecating ruin will bring our new god into existence
I, Death, the director of this wondrous chorus

All to sing will never cry
All to sing will never die
And all to sing a death-hymn under the blood sky!

Insomnia

2009-06-24T19:08:00.000-07:00

What keeps me up at night?
What lets me see the dawn's first light?
What is that noise so white?

Clutches me tighter than fright
Blinds me with darkness greater than sunlight
Grows more powerful on an international flight

Darkness signals the battle's beginning
Artificial light is mine enemy
Natural light, my defeat

Every day
Every night
I dream of sleep
But it runs from me, so I weep

There was a Tree

2009-06-16T13:26:00.000-07:00

I stepped out of my house into the crisp air precipitated by the cloudy skies and donned my shades. The sound of chirping birds filled the air along with the soft, high-pitched hum of the machines of the water purification plant in the neighbourhood. A soft pattering of sneakers on the asphalt echoed against the neighbour's poorly self-constructed cement-brick wall.

At the bottom of the hill were three trash bins from the day before, waiting, empty, for their owners to reclaim them from the curbside. Several palm trees towered overhead, showing off their looming fronds and pathetically thin trunks. A breeze blows by. There is a rustling sound among the leaves, complementing the constant but soft chirping of birds. An airplane flies overhead in the cloudy domain of the sky, filling the world with its humming engines, a backdrop for nature's music.

Creatures rushed into their havens underneath the brush as I passed by, looking through the leaves of their shelters at the unknown creature walking along the street. It was as though I had wandered into a tropical forest. There were strange plants all along the sidewalk: a plant that possessed a figure comparable to that of an artichoke and another that appeared to be a scrawny mockery of a Christmas tree. As I continued my excursion through this "familiar" neighbourhood, I saw a tree.

There was a tree on the sidewalk. An otherwise ignorable existence except for its awesomeness. Standing in at possibly fifty feet tall, its branches extended many times the diameter of its trunk. How can such a beautiful behemoth of nature be the result of a seed no larger than the size of a pebble? Its rustling leaves an instrument in the orchestra of nature. The knot in its trunk a scar from long ago. The grooves in its trunk the wrinkles of old age.

As I walk on, all nature passes by, and is soon forgotten.

Such a Thing

2009-06-06T10:48:00.000-07:00

Something happened on Thursday.

I was talking to a friend with whom I haven't spoken to in a while. She was having problems with a "former friend" of hers. Amidst the conversation, near its conclusion, she said something to me that I do not wish to repeat in its entirety. The gist of it was that she used to think she was a good person, but I inadvertently made her feel like a bad person.

Now what was that? I hadn't said anything to hurt her. I was trying to understand her situation and maybe try to help her deal with it, that's all. I think it was the way I tried to explain to her why I did things the way I did them in a situation quite similar to her's.

It was because I was "too good."

When I first thought of that, the idea puzzled me. How could someone be too good? It didn't make any sense. Was such a thing possible? But I soon realized the truth of it: my being "too good" made others feel something along the lines of inadequate or sub-par. Then I realized something else: I had been doing this to my friends for a long time. I recall a time when I took the May SAT II with another friend. Later, when the scores came out, I asked her what she had scored on her US History SAT II, but she wouldn't tell me. She didn't want to tell me because she thought I would make fun of her score because it was too low. But in reality, I really didn't care about the level at which the score was, I just wanted to know the score.

But, I'm not a good person. I'm nowhere near close to the definition of "good" or "righteous" or "holy." I only have an 80% in my AP Bio class because I'm missing 6 assignments, 5 of which are labs. I only have 93% in AP English when I could have well over 115%, but I don't because I'm missing 13 assignments. I don't know what I have in APUSH, but last time I checked, i had an 80 something percent. I'm lazy and I'm just coasting by on the bare minimum. That is not the definition of a good person. Whenever a person says that I'm good, or in this case, too good, all it does is kill me inside.

It doesn't matter if people say that I am "good," or "too good." Either way, it's not what I am. I will never be "good."

The Little Things

2009-05-30T22:25:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-22T22:56:00.001-07:00

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

2009-05-21T22:16:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-20T17:51:00.000-07:00

[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

2009-05-11T21:34:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-10T18:41:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-09T22:18:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-09T10:42:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-08T23:54:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

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.

An Abundance of Anger

2009-04-29T22:02:00.000-07:00

Why do we get angry? (I'm sure that at one point, I've gone over this topic before, but I still need to vent.)

Most of my friends know that I had a rather irrational and vicious temper when I was younger. Whenever things went awry or someone messed around too much, I would just blow up. Every little thing that would bug me lit my short fuse and I would explode. After a while, I did grow up and I didn't get as angry as easily. Granted, I would be rather perturbed at certain people's antics or when things wouldn't work right, but I managed to....well, manage myself. Eventually, I reached a point where I could suppress my anger and simply go about my business.

(Yeah, that's great and all, but that's not really what I'm aiming at today.)

Do we get angry because people cross us? Or rather, do we get angry because WE can't handle what just happened?

I often thought that it was other people's faults and shortcomings and just plain bad luck that caused us to blow up in a fit of rage. However, as I learned to suppress this irrational emotion, I began to see that the problem stemmed from me, and not anything else. We only get as angry as we allow ourselves to become.

We all have fuses.

As time weathered me, I grew more aware of the things that would light my fuse. Fortunately, God did grant me wisdom and self-control to extend this fuse so I wouldn't get angry so easily. At the same time, I saw that other people had very different lengths of fuses. Some would have extremely long ones and others would have ones shorter than mine. What I realized, though, is that no matter how long a fuse we have, we still have one. At one point or another, we will explode. It's simply a matter of time until we do, really.

The [Non]Existence of Evil

2009-03-25T17:43:00.000-07:00

Does evil exist in our world?

To determine whether or not evil does exist, one must first determine just what "evil" is. Is a person evil because he possesses no morals? Or is he considered neutral while his actions are considered "evil"?

Evil manifests itself not in a person's actions or being, but in the eye of the beholder. That is to say, "evil" is whatever we deem to be out of line or non-adherent to morality. For example, what one man views as pedophilia may very well be viewed by another as an expression of love (a rather extreme example, but nonetheless, my point still stands). In essence, the definition of "evil" is rather subjective, and as such, is unreliable and possibly nonexistent. One might say that a person is evil if he breaks the laws of society, but that is simply a subjective analysis in and of itself. Laws are not based on neutral mandates that differentiate "right" from "wrong" but rather, they are based upon the morality of the men who created them, and as such, laws are as every bit subjective as their creators.

Evil is simply the product of a subjective perspective. Those who say that evil does exist only present subjective evidence. There is no way to provide any sort of objective analysis that says "this is evil and this is not." When food is scarce, a mother hamster will eat its young to survive. if that happened today in a human household, the mother would be arrested and in all probability, be committed to an asylum under solitary confinement for the rest of her life. If that is true, then why doesn't that happen to the mother hamster? Why don't the all hamsters across the cage come together and deal with this? Perhaps they lack the mental capabilities to hold a trial, but in reality, they see it as a normal occurrence. They don't have any moral codes to adhere to, and as such, do not see "evil" when the mother eats her children. That being said, this is no such thing as "evil" because really, it's all just in our heads.

Without some sort of moral code, nobody would ever say that "this is evil" or "he's an evil person." "Evil-ness" is simply a matter of perspective and subjectivity. The existence of evil is simply this illusion created by our morals and ethics, which act upon our everyday judgment and tell us "right" from "wrong" and "good" from "evil."

Selfish Sacrifice

2009-03-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

When we learn things, we are usually pleasantly surprised or shocked. Whatever the occasion, we often go to bed content, happy that we learned something new. But what if said enlightenment was not so pleasant? What if our new found knowledge only brought us distress and anxiety?

Why do we do things? And by that, I mean, "What do we hope to gain from it?" It seems like a selfish and shallow question, but I've pondered the issue for many years.

I initially believed that I did things to help people because it's "good" to help people. I helped people because it was right. I helped because God mandated it in that little black book called the Bible. Our Lord Jesus Christ told us to be a good neighbour in the parable of the Good Samaritan. I don't remember the exact book, but I recall that in the Old Testament that there was this passage that tells us to not go over the fields a second time, to leave behind some grain for the least, lost, orphaned, and alien. That's what I used to think of to justify my reasons for doing these so-called "acts of kindness."

But why did God tell us to do these things? Jesus talks of the Pharisees and how they give money to the poor when other people can see. He tells us not to be like them, because they have already received their reward, and to give in secret, that we may store up treasures in heaven.

To store up treasures in heaven.

That part gets me every time. To store up treasures in heaven? Is that any different from receiving our reward here on earth? (rhetorical question, btw) When he tells us to do these acts of kindness and love, the whole thing about storing up treasures in heaven just eats away at me. Are we not selfish either way? Do we not receive a reward whether we perform an act in secret or in public? Granted, the everlasting treasures in heaven can't compare to any reward on earth, but it's not the treasure I'm worried about per se, it's the fact that we do it for the treasure.

When people are asked why they do good deeds, the common response is often "because it feels good doing it." The same is with me: I get some fuzzy feeling inside by doing some "good deed" for someone. But ultimately, these acts of kindness, these good deeds, they're not for them, they're for us, so we can feel good.

Am I just going insane? Or is there a possiblity that there is some shred of truth in this?

A Requiem for Sorrow and Laughter

2009-03-10T20:45:00.000-07:00

See him Awaken and Rise
Watch as she Walks and Dies
My God, time flies

A good man he was
A wonderful man indeed
His sister was the same
Though they each sought a different claim

One was a smile
The other a tear
We knew each other so well and dear

Out of life they dropped
To never exist again

Herein they lie
At the cause of plans gone awry
At the cost of plans gone awry
At the cost
At this cost
We cry, unfeeling
We cry our hearts out
That we may once more feel

The Comfort of Pain

2009-03-09T20:53:00.000-07:00

The sweet comfort of repetition
The familiarity of change
Goodbye, one and all

Hear the screaming walls
Listen to the bellowing prison phone calls
Evidence but a silently crying crimson-speckled shawl

Violet
Rouge
Azure

Colours of her broken skin and smile
See them disappear upon the faded backdrop
All is snow white once more

Tirades but a memory
Locks once more secure
A heart is mended

Drip
Drip
Blood still flows
Freely from the walls it runs

A name tattooed in veins
Chains remain in place
This room
This room
This room holds her still

Love once held the thump-thump
It grew thorns
Thumping turned to dripping

Hear doors shut
Watch as windows are barred
Feel the shivering cement below

Trapped

The memories
They never left
He never left

A single whisper escapes her lips
"Love me, love me"

A Love Story

2009-02-26T17:25:00.001-08:00

A broken smile lies on a a newly taken photo
His whispers echoing across an eternity
That's all he whispered "love me, love me"
It's all she wanted "love me, love me"

She screams to cloud out his lies
Loudness is not enough anymore
His whispers pierce the shriek-filled air like arrows

A room snow white
Covered with cries and blood
Therein, she lies
In a place as white as night

The monster of a thousand false hearts
Nightmares slowly grow into reality
Looking through the opaque windows
Hear the voices all around

For decades, she remained
Bruised and broken
Violet wrists and ankles
Red eyes and hair
Then he stole her

Silent Pain
She saw Nightmares become Dreams
His words now tattooed in her veins

Monster
Aye, that he is

Her cries and pains
Match his smile

Bathed in Kerosene

2009-02-25T21:17:00.000-08:00

Set aflame
Screeching, we run
Flames consuming the soul
Falling into the abyss above the skies

Kerosene dripping from the brow
Pouring out from broken veins
The volatile liquid drowning in us

One single match is all but needed
To set us ablaze
To send us spiraling out of control
Running endlessly lest we burn out and die

Walls covered in blood
Our blood runs as smooth as kerosene
Coating the room with an oily slick
Flight is useless now

It crawls closer to us
Slowly filling the room
Huddling closer only delays the inevitable

We are floating

We are drowning

We are dead

Bathed in kerosene

Someone, light a match

Broken Glass and Other Things

2009-02-16T20:41:00.000-08:00

Why do we cry? Does crying help us to express our pent-up emotions of sorrow, regret, rage, or happiness? Does it provide us with an outlet to vent ourselves? Why do we cry?

Do emotions do anything for us? Can they help us make sane decisions? No. Practically every single emotion that we experience hinders our thought process. They only make things harder on us. But if that is the case, why do we feel?

I haven't cried much in the past. (Hell, at most, I probably only cried once every year or something. O.o) But of course, things change as time goes by and unfortunately, I am not immune to time's weathering capabilities. As time went on, it chipped away at me every single day, wearing down those walls I built as a child. Then the impossible happened: I just completely broke down and bawled my eyes dry. I don't know why I cried, I just did This came to me as a surprise for two reasons: one is the fact that I was crying and the other was that I was crying.

The thing about crying is that you don't always know when you're going to cry. (Most people don't anyway.) But the thing that gets me the most about this whole...for lack of a better word, thing, is that I don't know why I cried. Most people know why they cry. They cry because somebody betrayed them or because they're mad, sad, or glad. To cry without a reason is just so puzzling to me. I wasn't crying for those things; nobody crossed me, nobody made me feel angry, I wasn't sad or happy. I cried for my heart.

...

The strangest thing happened to me today...

I was going over ticket orders a while ago and I realized that she was going by herself. She only asked for one ticket so I asked her "are you sure none of your family can come with you?" She said that she was sure that no one else was coming. I was kind of upset because I didn't want her sitting in the audience by herself, so I voiced my thoughts on this. Then she told me that maybe she should just go next time when someone could go with her. At first, I didn't understand, but that was probably because I did know what she meant, I just couldn't-no, wouldn't- believe it. (o.O) Of course, she meant no harm by this at all, and yet, it struck down the last bit of wall that time didn't wear away.

Perhaps it was the selfish side of me that still wanted her to go, regardless of company or not, or maybe it wasn't. Yet I just stared at the words on the screen in disbelief. I mean, it wasn't like I could tell her to go even though I really wanted her to. Besides, I knew it wouldn't be proper to coerce someone into doing anything anyways, so I just left it at that.

I knew I couldn't tell her to go. I knew that down to the last fiber of my being, but some part of me just felt so cold because she wasn't going. Why was I feeling so sad over so small a thing? It wasn't that big of a deal, and yet there I was, watching little droplets fall from my eyes onto my desk. I couldn't take it anymore so I excused myself and bolted to my room. Why was this happening to me? She didn't mean any harm by saying that. If anything, she was trying to spare me from it by not having me worry about the fact that she would have attended the function by herself. But why? Why couldn't I accept that? Why couldn't I just let go of it? Why was I letting it consume me as I hid in shame from the world in my room?

What the hell is wrong with me?

Dancing in the Rain

2009-02-14T11:05:00.000-08:00

Dark clouds foreboding
Cold winds whispering
Aye, it looks like rain

A walk perhaps
Or would you rather waltz
As the rain goes pitter pat?

Cast aside the umbrella
Throw off those boots
Leave your coat behind
Today, we dance

The wall of rain
Its frozen everlasting
Sodden drops diving towards earth
We take no heed to it

There is only you and me
Dancing in the rain

The Morning Sunset

2009-02-13T17:57:00.000-08:00

New beginnings
And new ends
Newly shining
With old friends

Drawn to break free from the geometric constraints of this world
The eternal flame of our waving banner unfurled
Forever stagnant as we run
Mingling in the cosmos in the twilight of the sun

Freedom is borne here
No thing cannot stop us now
Our minds and hearts are clear
He cannot break our backs and to him make us bow

Our souls are ours to command
Answering to none and all
Static in our post on the beach's sand
Now mindful of all things big and small

The one truth is this:
Forever we cannot drift in this abyss
But in this eternity we shall not cease to exist
This love in our minds but a cyst
Never bringing us peace or bliss

But always remember our tryst
As we shared that warm and sweet kiss
Lest this we fortunately forget
As we stand watching the Morning Sunset

Happiness

2009-02-03T17:22:00.000-08:00

Happiness is foreign to me
Escaping my grasp so easily
I think, that happiness hates me

It has been many years since I've seen happiness
Felt its glow and warmth
Experienced its serenity and tranquility

But now I know where it ran off to
Your wonderful smile amidst all the blue
I've found happiness in you

"Love"

2009-01-21T22:08:00.000-08:00

What is love?
What does it do?
What is its purpose in flogging my heart?

Tis not what I wanted
I do not desire to torment my heart
But is everything I yearn for

What is a tree?
Slow hard growth
What is a flower?
Swift soft flesh
Is love both? neither?

Love is patient
Love is kind
It does not begrudge

It is selfless
Everlasting
Unconditional
Selfish

Is love the need to see happiness on her face?
Despite your agony?
Or is it a need for her in your life?
Despite her cries to be let alone?

Love is many things
It is a desire to see that person smile
It is a selfish want for a companion

Love alone is strong enough
To move mountains
To swim the deepest oceans
To run the largest deserts

It is amazing
An amazing love
It can conquer all

Is it not also amazing
How love is the same path
As insanity?

A Way with Words

2009-01-17T21:09:00.000-08:00

I've always had a way with words. From a young age, I was blessed with an unusually large vocabulary and a certain eloquence that went along nicely with it. With those two God-given qualities, I was able to not only build up my friends and encourage them, but I was also equally successful in tearing people down and destroying their self-esteem. What I never realised, though, was how badly I had torn up those I so cruelly attacked with my words. They could have beaten me all they wanted and it would all be in vain because I could still shatter their soul in a matter of seconds (not to mention the fact that I could just as easily beat them senseless as well). Despite my aptness in oration, I never fully comprehended the sheer potency of the raw power that words possessed.

Today, I learned that the most powerful bombs and the largest army in the world had no power against a "correctly" formulated sentence. How did I learn that? The answer is paradoxically both simple and complex: I tore down my dad.

It all started when my dad asked me to pray with him and my mom for forgiveness from God. Initially, I said no because I honestly did not see the need for it at the time and I honestly did not care for such a thing. However, he pressed on ever persistently to win me over. In the back of my mind, I knew he knew that I always did things alone and that if he did not realize that right then and there, he would pay dearly for such a blunder, which he unfortunately did. Eventually, I was fed up with his incessant nagging and I began to fire back with a volley of my own. I tried to remind him that I worked alone and that I had confessed to God but he still talked about how it was still important to do this as a family.

I do not know whether it was the work of my flair for perverse and extemporaneous retorts or if it was the work of the Devil, but I quietly and sadistically told him that I did not believe that we were a family.

It was then that I saw the lifeblood of his argument drain from his face. I saw the walls come crashing down against the weight of my riposte. I had broken him and I had thrust the fatal knife of betrayal deep into his heart.

Her

2009-01-14T18:49:00.000-08:00

Things have been a lot different for me lately. I don't see things the same way I used to, people have come in and out of my life, and one particular person, however, just so happened to light up like the Eiffel Tower in France at night and I will admit right now that this person is indeed a girl.

I don't fully understand why she caught my attention so....powerfully (I actually went online to find a better synonym for this word but I couldn't). I remember that we were friends back at St. Mark's, but after we graduated, we went to separate high schools. After that, our friendship waned, but she was still there in the back of my mind tugging at me. I recall at some point in freshman year, I believe, that during Friday night fellowship, a friend delivered a note from her to me. I was immediately filled to two emotions: excitement (that I'd finally gotten form of communication from her) and confusion (Why would she write me a letter?). She would also call me from time to time (the reason I didn't call was because I didn't have her number o.O) and we would talk for a long time.

Some part of me was ecstatic when she called, yet another part of me longed for a better way to get in touch with her. Then life presented to me one of its wonderful opportunities: Facebook. After my first short-term mission trip in TJ, my friend, Ivan, (at least I think it was him) told me to get a facebook profile, so I did. Amidst the frenzy of adding new friends and seeking out others, I chanced upon that same girl. I quickly added her and waited eagerly for a response. She added me and we started to exchange wall posts. Soon after, she prodded me to get MSN (and eventually AIM, which was something I practically swore to avoid getting) and...I did.

...

I absolutely cannot go even one hour without thinking about her and it's killing me. I want to tell her how I feel, but I'm so scared she'd reject me. If she did reject me, not only would I practically die, but I'd probably lose my best friend as well. It's not her looks or any physical aspect about her that I adore, it's the fact that she makes me smile every single time I talk to her. No matter how shitty a day I had at school or if I had an argument with my friends or parents, she somehow always manages to make me feel all fuzzy and gleeful on the inside. To lose her would be like losing my heart (oh God, that sounds so selfish and lame). I asked God to help me but He hasn't given me an answer. I want her to see me as more than a friend and I want her to be more than a friend, but I'm so scared that if I push this, I'll push her away.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-At6avvY_4

Back

2008-12-10T21:23:00.000-08:00

Something's been on my mind for a long long time...
Just waiting to break free
After a lot of soul searching and thought
After a lot of falling into ditches, I've hit rock bottom
And now

I'm back

A bit of inspiration and relation:

Forever - By Fireflight

Sometimes I feel so cold
Like I'm waiting around all by myself
Loneliness gets so old
I'm in the lost and found sitting on the shelf
Been stuck for way too long
But I hear Your voice
You're who I'm counting on

Oh, tell me You're here
That You will watch over me forever
Oh, take hold of my heart
Show me You'll love me forever

I know that You can tell
When I start to let my hope fade away
I need to catch myself
Open my ears to hear You calling my name
Been fighting way too long
But I hear Your voice
You had me all along

Oh, tell me You're here
That You will watch over me forever
Oh, take hold of my heart
Show me You'll love me forever

When I'm starting to drown
You jump in to save me
When my world's upside down
Your hands, they shake me and wake me

Oh, tell me You're here
That You will watch over me forever
Oh, take hold of my heart
Show me You'll love me forever

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0l7_vsOxp8

Tell Me

2008-11-30T18:31:00.000-08:00

Tell me something
Is it better
To burn out?
Or to fade away?

Is it better
To go out on top?
To die in a blaze of glory?
To leave with an untarnished legacy?
To be legendary? Immortal?

Or rather
Carry on past your best days?
Disappear into the world like an infinitesimal speck?
Leave behind a blemish on your reputation?
Grow imperfect? Laughable? Forgotten?

Is it better
To disappear at your prime?
Or drag on past your time?

I think you know

My Second Shadow

2008-11-29T14:15:00.000-08:00

A broken soul
A sharpened knife
A world of sin and strife
Such is my way of life

I burned something many a year ago
When I did I saw my foe
Standing as a gargoyle in the snow

It had horns aflame
In them I saw my name
A man who had come to me to lay his claim

His burning flames swallowed me whole
Never in my life had I felt so cold
The icy flames eating away at my soul
Where my soul existed was now a hole

His burning hands took hold
Of my mind, body, and soul
With them he began to mold
Creating a creature of angst and a heart ice cold

I had become, in essence, a crow
Wherever I went, I brought death and woe
For in life, my soul was once was pure as snow
But its death gave birth to a second shadow

How It Goes

2008-11-26T22:07:00.000-08:00

You try so hard
Against temptation you stand your guard
But all you gain is a soul scarred

Everything you knew is falling
They can hear your soul calling
The sound of the scrapes of its nails from crawling

"An A for effort" some say
You scream back to them "nay"
As the sky and all you know turns to ash and gray

It was like a nuclear fallout
Now stumbling in a world full of doubt
Living in a world of things you can live without

Tears stream down your cheek
Words jumbled together as you speak
Showing that you are naught but cowardly and weak

You're me now
Voice alone
Sleeping on a new nail bed
Like a flashlight on but lost

Soon you learn
That we all have to burn something
Because that's simply
How it goes

Dark Light

2008-11-23T14:06:00.000-08:00

They run
Towards the demons of want and greed they charge
Piercing cries resound throughout the world

It starts to rain
The muddy ground slowing them evermore
The angels and spirits swallow the demons whole
Binding the beasts to their holy chains

The spirits of God fight ferociously
They believe the end has come
The seraphs fight to cleanse this realm

They battle for freedom
They fight not for their lives
But for the light
Hoping to wander the planes of existence without sin

The beasts on the other side stand still
These demons do not fight
For they know the truth

The creatures of desire and impeccable evil
They know more than the pure of heart
These demons need not fight

For they know
That the closer the angels draw to the light
The longer their shadows become

Storms on the Rise

2008-11-22T17:29:00.000-08:00

Dark clouds flying overhead
Blocking out the sun
Shrouding the world in a second darkness

A treacherous time it may be
Thieves are afoot
Stealing and killing for their own selves

Shadows looming over all
Towering over what little innocence remains
Burning their images to the ground

Day turns to night
People unable to behold the sight
Overtaken by fear they make flight

The Grand Architect sits atop a hill
Humming its song at the other edge of the world
Orchestrating the end of times

Curiouser and Curiouser

2008-11-21T20:40:00.000-08:00

A watery tank sits in a field
The thought eater of the world
At the edge of all existence

The Devil's hands cannot touch it
Neither can God's

It hums loudly day and night
Overbearing it's victim's plight
A single man at the edge of the world

A whirling dervish rides to the edge
Leading an army of God's angels
Against the Devil's forces they march

The tank sits in the middle of the fray
Humming its song

Anyone Else

2008-11-17T17:43:00.000-08:00

You realize
That you are not
Better than anyone else
Not better
Than everybody else

All my life
I've had to Be
Better than everyone else
Just to Be loved
By anyone else

You are not better
Not better than anyone else
You are worse
Worse than everyone else

Worse?
It sounds like
Your self-esteem got the
Better of you

When there is no one else
I will always
Always be here for you
No one else

I love you
I have
I do
I will

Say it back
For once in your life
Say it back

If not to me
Then anyone
Anyone else

A Touch from the Blue

2008-11-10T15:52:00.000-08:00

In Life
The only thing we feared
Was Death

But what if
Death was taken away?

What if
Life was forced back through the lips of the orphaned soul?
A longing for the now unattainable death

I have seen the colour of God's hands
They do not reside in Heaven
But down here on Earth

A touch from the blue is all it takes to change the garden's scheme of colour

Suicide Risk

2008-11-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

Heart pounding
Pulse rising
Thoughts finally unclouded

He can see the end in sight
The light at the end of the tunnel is bright
The scent of death was never more inviting

The creaking door opens
It's cocked and at the ready
His chum enters as normal
Unaware of the events yet to come

"You're the only person who ever cared about what I did"
"What are you talking about dude?"
"I just wish my parents would see me the way you do"
"What?"
"Goodbye"

Goodbye

Why I Write

2008-11-05T07:20:00.001-08:00

when i was younger, i never really understood the importance of writing. i just saw it as something you did for book reports and essay questions on tests. then when i turned eleven (i think), the whole concept of writing became something entirely different to me. i found it as a way to express my thoughts, argue (competently), critique others, and just have fun with it. i no longer wrote for homework and projects; i started writing simply for the sake of writing. i was suddenly thrust into this world where i could create things, be they terrifying, emotional, or just a string of random thoughts.

then something else came along. the world of poetry (which i see as something completely separate from writing) exploded in my face. it was such a curiosity for me. the deep layers of emotion and complex thought that lay between those verses was greek to me. then one day, i picked up a pen and began ink the broken thoughts that have lain in my mind for years. i realized then that this crude journal i was penning resembled something like the poems of lore i read so often. for a moment, i felt as though for a moment, i could see into the minds of those poets and could feel what they felt.

as for now, my mind is in a blur. nothing is clear. nothing is concrete anymore. everything in my head is a jumble of mixed emotions and uncertainty. i try to straighten things out in this maelstrom by writing down whatever comes to mind to see if i can make sense of it, but it doesn't help. i fear i will sail on these trackless seas forever.

She Died and We Did Nothing

2008-11-03T21:04:00.000-08:00

Jeanne!
She died and we did nothing

The tromp of the beast grows louder
The clash of metal resounding throughout the halls

You will pay for what you did to her
But you will not be forgiven!

The blade finds its fatal mark
The piercing screams shake the night

Jeanne...
She died and we did nothing

She died

And we watched

Something Is Wrong

2008-11-01T16:09:00.000-07:00

We shouldn't be here

tick tock

She tugs at my arm
Motioning me to run

tick tock

A man is running this way
He looks mad
No
He looks

Desperate

tick tock

Something Is Wrong

Shocking

2008-10-25T16:31:00.000-07:00

"If wild my breast and sore my pride,/I bask in dreams of suicide,/If cool my heart and high my head/I think 'How lucky are the dead.'" -Dorothy Parker

The spark of an idea
The flick of the knife
The spark from the wall
Life flicks out of sight

What is this sensation?
What is this feeling?
What am I to do?

Pain, sorrow, Regret
Overwhelming the senses
The reading of an epithet
The soul building its fences

The spark of an idea
The call made
Now wait for the aid

The flick of the knife
Difficult is the idea of ending a life
Shortening the journey to the afterlife

Here comes the response to the call
Out flies the spark from the wall
They both fall

First goes the light
He cannot hear the cries of her plight
Another light flicks out of sight
Forever

When all is said and done
Her guilt weighs a ton
Out goes the light of the sun
And with it, her son

That Which I Hate

2008-10-23T18:57:00.000-07:00

"Be careful when you fight the monsters, lest you become one." -Friedrich Nietzsche

Fear envelops me
Creeping into every corner of my mind
Seeping through the cracks of my soul

The coldness of death breathes down my neck
A tingling sensation rolling down my spine
I fly

His steps echo mine
The piercing screams shatter my ear drums
Trapped in these cursed doldrums I run
Paying no heed to the shrieks surrounding me
I continue on

A sense of macabre washing over me
The eeriness of this wretched world running through me
Piercing my heart

Unable to escape
He's always behind me
Just waiting for me to fall

Out of breath
Can't run anymore
The tromp of his boots grow louder

Soul rising
Shuddering, I turn
Facing him head on

Take a stand
I run no more
Put up your guard, death
Here I come

The clash of metal
Ice creeps onto me
Cold, merciless, unfeeling

Slain, death withers away
The cold shrouds my soul
The same cold that I feared
Unmerciful feelings cloud my thoughts
Malice floods my heart

Fear envelops me once again

I have become

That Which I Hate

Thoughts of a Fractured Soul

2008-10-22T21:58:00.000-07:00

Ever-wandering
Ever-yearning
Lost in the carpal tunnel of confusion

Running forever
Fleeing from the pain
Hiding in every place imaginable

He is looking for Something
To numb it
To soothe it
To end it

He cannot escape it
A touch of destiny
Fated to wander forever in heartbreak

The pain
The sorrow
The rage
He feels it all

Like a child covered in blood
It never touched him but he's drowning in it

A cloud of witnesses surround him
He can hear them all and they're saying nothing

A shadow lurks in the dark
He cannot run fast enough
It has come

Will the pain ever leave?

Broken

2008-10-20T21:52:00.000-07:00

Staring into the mirror
Cloudy eyes of a heartless being
Opened up to the things unseen

Dull, lifeless
Grief-stricken, flooded with fear
They yearn for redemption

The soul cries out
Searching for things lost
They're all gone

Driven by desperation
Looking for salvation
Everywhere but where it is

Looking through broken glasses
A blurred vision
Nothing is clear anymore

A tear-stained trail
Flowing from the medicine cabinet to the bed
Blood follows

An essence fracture
Nothing is the same anymore
Hope is lost

All grace falls
All hope falls
I fall

Untitled

2008-10-18T19:51:00.000-07:00

One look in the mirror
What do I see?
Two beady eyes looking back at me

Every secret, every regret draws me nearer
They're there in the eyes
Through them, I can hear the soul's cries

A window into the soul some say
I daresay not
All I see are regretful memories forgot

Clouds in the pupils remind me of a rainy day
Tears of the soul
Making me again whole

Redemption is what the eyes beckon
Death is what comes
Beating its deafening war drums

The soul is but barren
Crying out for a drop of water
An owl in the tree the watcher
Does nothing

Busted [Conscience]

2008-10-14T18:40:00.000-07:00

Oh shit!
We fucked up big time today
What's happening to me?

Laziness
Despair
Sin

Signs of a decaying soul
Beginning of the end for us
Death is here

Cheater
Liar
Fraud

Busted by the teach
Caught red-handed
All eight of us

Broken
Gone
Crucified

Give me the sheet he says
More lies ensue
Morals are lost

Shattered
An Essence Fracture
Shame

You son of a bitch!
We're screwed
Freaking fuck tards

Confusion
Offenses
Hate

One more chance
Redeem ourselves
Where did we go wrong?

Melancholy
Accusations
Derision

Damn, you guys are screwed
Shut the fuck up
What the hell?

Gloom
Bitterness
Responsibility

Just do it
Fine, whatever
Goddammit...

Kill me

Lord Send Revival, Start With Me

2008-10-08T19:58:00.000-07:00

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls." 1 Peter 1:6-9

Oh God, help me.

Spiritual Death

2008-10-06T18:30:00.000-07:00

"So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.'" Luke 16:24

i am dying.

slowly, day by day, i can feel a little more of myself wither away. i have fallen far from the Lord's presence.

it's as if i am limping aimlessly in this suffocating heat that may very well be Satan's domain. cut off from my vine, i can no longer live a life pleasing to Him. i fear the Lord is no longer by my side. i feel as though Christ has abandoned me on the roadside to leave me to die.

i can't feel anything anymore. hate, love, anger, distress, joy. all emotions have left me. i am a heartless wanderer in the inferno that is this earth. without my shepherd, i am doomed to drift throughout this world without neither meaning nor purpose.

i am dead.

Done

2008-10-01T21:21:00.000-07:00

I'm Done

Done with this nonsense
Finished with this bullshit

Done with putting up with me
Done with the annoyance that is of me

Done with lies
Done with deceit
Resolve has strengthened me

Finished with deception
Finished with lying to myself
Finished with the laziness that is mine

Done with evil
Done with this disease called sin
Done with the vengeful thoughts

Finished with limping on
Finished with the mask
Finished with this shell

I'm Done
I'm ready to live

God of Heaven Come Down

2008-09-22T20:33:00.000-07:00

i don't know what's wrong with me.

everyday i try to make good, to deny the evil within me, but everyday, i crash and fall. every day i try to make different and every day is the same. nothing i do has any effect on anything.

the evil is growing stronger with every fall. i can feel its pull on my heart, soul, and mind. it has crept into every crevice of my being. it's in every corner of my mind and it's eating me inside out. there's no telling if i'll ever make it out with my sanity or my life.

i pray for God to come and liberate my soul of this evil inside me. i pray for Him to forgive me of my sinful ways. i repent of my old life and wish to start anew.

i pray this now:

please God, if You're there, help me be rid of this evil that now plagues every part of my being. please forgive me for sinning against You. let me start over God. let me be a light unto Your name and not a Sunday Christian. help me to end this cycle of sinning and repentance. help me to live a new life free of this and let me be devoted to only You. please Lord. help me. amen.

denied

2008-09-10T22:04:00.000-07:00

"To deny our own impulses is to deny the very thing that makes us human."
"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me."

which quote is true? can they both be? do u even know where they come from?

it doesn't matter where the first quote comes from (although, if you do study it carefully, you just might remember). it's the second that you should know. "cross" "follow me" those are the words of Christ himself. (it comes from the gospel of Mark)

which do i follow? both? is that even possible?

we are obviously human, no question about it. but does this mean that by denying ourselves, we are no longer human? that we must give up our humanity to follow Christ? the thought scares me. to no longer be a part of anything of this world and leave everything behind to follow the Messiah. the choice is simple, black on white, crystal clear, whatever's the appropriate simile for you. Follow Christ. but making the choice is easy, it's actually trying to follow through is hard.

can i really give up all of this? can i just drop it all on the side of the road and pursue Christ with heart, soul, and mind?

probably. we were never meant to be a permanent part of this world. our bodies are just temporary holding cells for our souls until we go up to heaven and yet, so much ties us to this world. our possessions and desires keep us down. we can never be free to follow God if we're shackled by our wants and impulses.

i have lusted for this world, and i still do. all the things it offers are so enticing that i'm right at the edge. but something's holding me back, keeping me from taking that plunge. it's the one thing i want that's being kept from me by other wants. it's a tug-of-war here; one side is the world and the other is Jesus. both are pulling me so strongly that i'm about to break. i'm at the brink of falling to my knees and never being able to be with the eternal One. i'm so close to the edge that i can hear death's footsteps echoing mine so perfectly that it's almost a part of me.

a look back

2008-09-04T20:59:00.000-07:00

looking back on my life, i realize how far i've come. if someone were to look back on my earlier years, it would be nigh impossible to realize that crazed, enraged wreck of a child was once me. i'm no longer the child whose irrational behaviour and anger got the best of him. now i'm more analytical with my movements and actions. even so, i'm still a shadow of my former self.

i still do get angry, and rarely does it get the best of me. it still does, in which case i usually separate myself from the general public should i turn demonic and hurt someone. i have been known by several separate entities who have witnessed, and sometimes experienced, what anger can do to me. it's shown that the emotion anger inhibits the rationalization process within the brain, which explains why we do stupid things when we are infuriated, but still doesn't exempt me, or anyone for that matter, from the things we've done. i hated myself, and i still do, for all the things i've done under anger's spell.

it's difficult for me to channel my anger properly. instead of trying to something constructive, i just bury it deep within the pits of myself and move on. i have been able to control my temper, but only to a certain degree. there are times when that anger i've built up eventually spills over my barrier of self control and floods through my whole body. at which point, violence often ensues. with my friend (who shall remain nameless) felt the full blow of this flood, in other words, i broke his arm. however, it was by God's grace that somehow, instead of expulsion or suspension or saturday school, nothing happened.

it's at those low points in my life where God reveals Himself to me and i learn something new about myself. it was that day that i realized how dangerous i was when anger found its way to spill over my...."emotional levees," and from then on, i did my best to control myself and keep the floodwaters from rushing out. coincidentally, i had decided to take up tennis and it was then i realized that instead of unloading my emotional grief all at once, i was able to release some of that pent-up rage and keep the floodwaters of belligerence at bay.

dead man

2008-09-02T18:52:00.000-07:00

i'm dead. no questions about it. (at least, i don't think so)

i feel as though my whole life's nothing but a huge charade. most, if not all people, have no idea about the "real" me. the person inside this shell of a helpful person without a problem in the world. *rolls eyes* almost everything i've said or done was either out of habit or "kindness." i've never one tried to actually explain what i truly think to anyone. i don't tell them that i think they're douche bags for being such fags and dumbasses. instead, i just nod or whatever and just help them out. not that i'm being selfish or anything but everything i've done was always for someone else. i've never done something for me or anything.

there are always days where i don't want to go to church early and help set up the worship equipment and sound system. (in fact, those days are coming at me at a larger frequency) yet, i still persevere through all the grunt work of moving huge ass speakers and enormous mobile shelves full of mics and drums. i do this on a weekly basis because there's really not anyone else to do it (fscking lazy asses >.< ). i know the Lord appreciates self-sacrifice and all, but i can't even begin to describe how i just want to tell people to get off their lazy asses and for once, get some sleep myself. i understand that it's for God and everything, but it just feels as though i'm lying to myself again. why do i still do it even though i don't like it? what makes me get up in the morning and do what i do? is it simply out of obligation? it's like i'm some fscking empty shell of a person.

i'm dead, inside. there's nothing left of my former self and the only thing holding me upright is that freaking shell of what i want to be.

goodbye music, hello God (?)

2008-09-01T21:19:00.000-07:00

oddly enough, i've been strangely fortunate with whatever's going on in my life. the one thing i hate doing the most (lying) has been saving my ass left and right. i'm making a point to stop but like i said earlier, it's like a second nature to me.

music's been a rather significant portion my life. day in and day out, i'm listening to all sorts of things like rock or classical or whatever. unfortunately, it's starting to sneak it's way in to other parts of my life.

the whole point of worship at church is to worship God but sometimes, i just do it for the music (i'm the sound guy so i'm supposed to pay attention to the music anyway but that's not the point). it's been difficult for me to listen to sermons and sunday school lessons when songs keep playing over and over in my head. even now, my brain is on shuffle (it's paramore i'm "listening to" btw), which makes sense that music is one of my greatest pleasures. God's supposed to be my number one but lately, it's as if He's been pushed back in line for the sake of music. i love God and i love music. so does that mean i'm supposed to......give up music? just the thought is terrifying to me. i can't give up music; music's everything. maybe that's why i need to give it up.

i haven't felt God's presence in a long time. i know He does this to help us turn to Him in our times of grief and trouble, but i haven't. i've just listened to music to drown out the noise of life. it's hard to write these things because when i do see it, it "becomes" real. i mean, i know it's there, but the simple act of writing actually brings the issue up to my face. :/ perhaps it's time to quiet down my life for God. who knows? things might take a turn for the better.

hell if i know

2008-09-01T12:14:00.001-07:00

something i wrote that was never blog-bound till now.

Confusion’s the path I’ve always been on. Never understood myself; the way I saw things, said things, and especially felt things were always a mystery. I try to be a good person, I really do. That being said, I’m nothing more than a thoroughly grade-A ass. Despite my best efforts to be a Christian, I constantly lie, cheat, etc. (well, that’s pretty much the main two). Oddly enough, I’ve always been a good—no—excellent liar. I could totally come up with a lie on the spot and be able to say it straight to that person’s face. (In fact, just a couple days ago, I did just that to my teacher). Lying’s been so easy for me (mostly because I can remember stuff easily and because I’m a quick thinker) it’s practically a reflex when I’m in a pinch. I totally blame my 7th grade literature teacher for making do extemporaneous speaking (no, still my fault). I don’t like it and I hate myself for doing it, but it does make thing easier. But from what I’ve learned, doing the right thing’s often hard. So does that make me a coward? Or lazy? I don’t know which but either way, I’m still a total sleaze ball.

I’m probably a pessimist or something like that because I can’t look at a single good thing about myself if I’ve got all these flaws. Maybe that’s why I try to help out whenever I can, you know? layer upon layer of distraction. I try to look “normal” and “happy” and whatnot in front of my friends but inside, I’m dying. I’m dying from all the things I’ve done. All the lies and deception in my life constantly resurface and I’m choking on it all. I don’t deserve my friends or my family. Hell, I probably don’t even deserve anything good that I’ve got.

My head’s not a nice place to be. It’s a jumble of random thoughts that if put together, just show you the real me. Underneath my shell of a human being is something you’d never want to meet, much less get to know. All the things I’ve ever done I’ve tried to erase with what I do now. I want to be a better person, but I know deep down, that’s not possible. I can’t change who I am, it’s me. Anything else I try to be is just me lying to myself. I wish I could change, I so do. But the reality is, I don’t know if I ever will.