Blurred Vision

Ache.

Sometimes you forget to shut up.

And sometimes you forget to be patient.

And sometimes you forget to think.

Ache.

You try to play peace but instead you light the fire that the wind blows. Then the entire village is burning.

And sometimes you feel like you should have done something different.

And sometimes you wonder if you tremble when you're cold or when you're sad.

Ache.

Elephants move in herds, hyenas in packs, sheep in flocks, fish in schools, life in pieces, and hearts in shards.

Ache.

Life's not that bittersweet. It's just bitter. Really bitter. So bitter you think it's sweet. Like when you touch something really hot, you get confused if it's really hot or if it's really cold until it starts burning. Burning on your tongue. Even when you burn sugar it turns all black and disgusting. You pour in more sugar to make the coffee sweet.

All you get is black coffee.

D--- the coffee.

Arrows Pointing in Every Direction

Mood: happy; not neutral
Currently: doing Chinese homework and diving deep into thought
Listening to: Getting Away with Murder --Papa Roach

It's amazing at how much you can relate to "you learn something new everyday." And today, it was more like a deep recognition for the obvious. Today was a small Octagon event, making posters for the cream puff sale that will take place on open house. So I was with Hee Soo and we went to Heritage after we were done. After bugging the track people while they were playing capture the flag, Hee Soo and I sat down, talking for a bit. At first, it started with a random white bunny that was running about, with children chasing it. Then there was a hummingbird Hee Soo saw that I had mistaken for a large beetle. And finally, a quiet spider, perhaps building its new home over the tables. Hee Soo and I started to float off into the past, talking about the good times of childhood and the irony of growing up. When you're a child, you tend to look towards the future, thinking, "I can't wait to drive," or "I'll be able to get my own house," or just something like that. Regardless, the common child, I believe, is usually anticipating on growing up. But as Hee Soo said, "it's not all that glamorous." And as high schoolers, we thought back to elementary school, like the time you first go on the slide, uncertain, afraid, but after trying it, it's fun, you try weird stunts like racing up the slide before sliding down again. Times when we'd pretended the woodchips in the school playground were lava, and you had to climb on the equipment from one end to another. Times when you collected woodchips and stacked them in the grass, picking yellow flowers, imaging them as your food supply as you sat next to a small fire. Yeah. Those were great times. Times when we have always wanted to be where we are now, and now we wish in vain that we could go back to those times. And that reminded me of something my sister said. "In high school, you think that elementary and middle school were the best times of your life. In college, you think it was high school, but when you're in grad school, you think college was the best." Most of us look either behind us, or look at what's ahead of us, but who really looks down at the floor they tread on? Who looks up and to the sides, appreciating or hating their surroundings?

Ahaha, funny thing that I say that about that. In math today, we took a quiz that was practically a test, and this one guy was suspected of cheating. Of course, our math teacher is really lenient (a bit too much) and told him to keep his eyes on his test. Then Travis, just this one junior in our class, said he had a teacher who said, this was really genius, "You can look up for inspiration, you can look down in desperation, but you can never look side-to-side for information." Absolutely genius, isn't it?! That totally made my day right there. My math teacher now wants a banner that says that hanging in front of the classroom. Ahaha.

"It's the small things in life that matters, we just never pay attention to them." --JJS

Well, there's that and then something that complexes me. Out of experience and partially by my own nature, I have a tendency to avoid getting involved in things that doesn't directly effect me or causes me to face great changes. As a result, it seems to me that I've been "letting the people who are wrong always win." And I wonder, is this right? The obvious answer is, no, it isn't. But what in the world is "right"? Why must it be this way? But more importantly, is it improper of me to not take action? Will I be one of those people who don't stand up for something, therefore, no change is ever made, and thus, nothing changes. Life will continue with people living in an age of darkness. But you know, there are those people who you can just categorize as a moron. Neither logic, reason, scolds, nor lectures can convince them that they are wrong, throwing back responses that make no sense at all, and I wonder if it wrong to avoid getting into a bad situation by not trying to correct them, even if their behavior threatens others' safety? I don't know, because it seems like a waste of time and breath to try correcting these people you know won't change. Why get into arguments, why fight, and why make enemies? Perhaps because these people were enemies from the very beginning . . .
Wonders beyond wonders, and each significance different from another.

Life's Not a Black Hole

Mood: happy; moody
Currently: remembering why I've used to hate going to sleep
Listening to: Supermassive Black Hole --Muse

Anything in life can be considered a "waste of time" or "stupid".
"Playing that game is a waste of time, it's so stupid." Since when did playing a game have some sort of special and significant meaning behind it? Heck, what is "significant" and what's not a "waste of time" anyways? Reading a book? Why is it so special? Because it makes us "smarter"? Is it a more productive way of using our time because we think more while processing words and attempting to find a deeper meaning behind them? What's the point in being "smart"? We have more knowledge, have better debate support, sharper comebacks, snottier remarks, and know what to do in certain situations? Depressing thought or perhaps not, sometimes I don't know what's so special about living. I breath and see. I can taste things, I can feel things physically and mentally. Life is a miracle I don't know why bothers happening sometimes. I'm not depressed, nor do I feel like my life is meaningless, I honestly don't understand why.
And my questions are ones that can't be explained through facts, perhaps, but the cliche "What's the meaning of life?" question rolls in here. To get a good education and find a nice job? What's the point of learning? To live a better future? And what's that to accomplish? Raise a family and create a new generation to wander about life? Is it to be safer? Accidents happen all the time, and the people who don't learn will cause those accidents, and no matter how safe we proceed, things we don't see will hit us. To not hurt others? Physically or mentally, we'll always continue hurting others. A special moment we have, it may end up hurting others. A careless remark one makes can drive another into winding depression. Our human nature will always make us hurt each other and we can't avoid it. We can only hope we can realize we wronged another and apologize for our actions.
Honestly, thinking just makes my head spin, and sadly enough, I shouldn't even be talking about any of this. What do I know? I'm on the crossroad in which the train is going to hit 16. I'm too young to talk about topics as broad as human nature and life since, in reality, I don't know anything at all. I suppose arrogance should have a limit.

"'A nosebleed is the perspiration of the heart!' [Toradora episode 3] . . . 'Crying is a nosebleed from the heart.' . . . 'But I've realized something. If you trip while running down a hallway, you'll get a nosebleed. If you trip in life, you cry.'
'Are you stupid? It's still too early for us to be talking about life. From now on, for 10 years, for 20 years, for 60 years, life will go on.' [Toradora episode 24]"


Hanging by a Moment. Darkness Eyes. Aozora no Namida. Numb. Suffocate.

Accidents Don't have to be Bad

Mood: happy; conflicted; thoughtful; slightly depressed
Currently: watching Baka to Test to Shoukanjuu episode 6
Listening to: Perfect-Area Complete --Aso Natsuko [Baka to Test to Shoukanjuu OP]

"The magic in a poem is always accidental. No poet would labor intensively upon the intricate craft of poetry unless he hoped that, suddenly, the accident of magic would occur.
. . . The miraculous thing about miracles is that they do sometimes happen. And the best poem is that whose worked-upon unmagical passage come closest . . . to those moments of magical accident." --"On Poetry" by Dylan Thomas [found in 10th grade The Writer's Craft, page 358].

I need a self-discovery trip. Or just a trip by myself to somewhere far away . . .

Heart Beat, Heat Beat, Cold Beat

Mood: happy; depressed; confused; feeling like I need to cry
Currently: doing homework; trying to figure out how to change
Listening to: Suffocate --Elsa Chapman

I need to grow a heart that won't stop beating.

Mind in the Trash Can, Writing in the Air

Mood: happy; mixed
Currently: stabbing my homework
Listening to: I Hate Everything About You --Three Days Grace

I went to this author (Lisa See) book signing event for my sister, since she couldn't do it herself, being at school and all. Anyhow, it just made me feel more anxious about my future though. "1000 words a day, about four pages." I can't even get myself to write more or even edit what I have now. Should I not worry just because I'm young? It could take forever to get it down though. Lisa See may write novels based on true historical events, but five years of researching and writing . . . I don't know. Every time I'm in the presence of a good writer, may he/she be famous around the world or around school, I feel baffled. Makes me think: There are so many more dedicated writers, more people who are more passionate about what they're saying, and there are more people who are just simply better writers. Take my sister for example, I don't recall the exact details anymore, but she had a high ranking paper for the SATs, was it? Her high school teachers always approved of her skillful writing abilities. She was the editor of her college's undergraduate magazine and currently the editor her her grad-school's magazine. I can't edit for s---. I'm lacking in both grammar and spelling. My writing shows it well, only the spell check saves me a little, but not even Microsoft can correct all of my grammatical errors. I'm not an avid reader, as my mother loves to indirectly remind me. "Your sister sure can buy books." Then my mother would turn to me and give me an accusing look. Ah, yes, she does. My range of literature is strictly within what we read in English class, and I don't even read the book half the time. I don't know what I'll do with myself. Maybe toss myself into a trash can and then figure out the rest from there . . .

Distance

Mood: happy; neutral
Currently: doing math homework
Listening to: Tik Tok --2PM

The world suddenly felt far away for some reason.

Thus the Night Stalks

Mood: happy; neutral; baffled; heavy-hearted
Currently: pondering
Listening to: Tik Tok --2PM

Currently my boyfriend is depressed. Why? Neither of us know, really. I hate being depressed for no apparent reason. It's like, what's the h--- wrong with me?! Usually random depressions just go away, but there must be some cause behind it, right? If we never figure out that cause and solve it, we'll always be hindered by it. Perhaps every time we find a solution to one thing, another problem arises. It's like science. I don't know, questions bring up more questions . . . Argh . . . humans are too complicated for me to understand. I wish I was like . . . A WORM, or something. Live my life doing stuff in dirt and maybe (I dunno if worms think or have feelings and stuff) not have to worry about all of this. I don't know what this is. Well, whatever, I'm me, and that's who I'm going to be for a while until I die.
"If we had one chance to change everything about our life to the way we wanted it, we think we'll be happier. I think not."

Happiness

Mood: happy; thoughtful
Currently: watching Toradora episode 23
Listening to: (Toradora episode 23)

"I believe in you, Taiga. I don't think you're the kind of person to blame others for your inability to go after what you want! Or are you someone like that?!"
"That's not it . . . I just want you to be happy. I just want the Minorin I love to be happy."
"Cut it out! My happiness can only be . . . can only be made with my own hands! My happiness doesn't depend on anyone but me!"

There is just simply nothing in this world that can explain how I'm feeling because I don't know if there are even my feelings to feel in the first place. I'm too easily wavered and they pains of other stir me until I cry myself, and these feelings are just over my head, I don't know what to do with them, I don't know what they are, they are, they are, they are, they are, they are, I don't know what they are, but I don't know what to do either, I don't know anymore, these feelings and mixtures are so confusing, I'm losing my way and I feel blind, I'm running into a wall that can't be run down or destroyed and broken down, not now, and maybe not ever, this wall is absolutely indestructible. Feelings, feelings, feelings, too complex for my understanding, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know what do to with there feelings, I'm not too sure if I'm feelings sad or happy, this heavy feeling doesn't have to be only depression now, right? I don't know anymore, but it's pulling on me, and I don't know what to do with them. What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to do anything, I don't know, I just don't know. I want to cry, yet I want to laugh, but I don't know which one to follow, what is my path, what are even my choices, and who am I? I don't get it, what are these questions in the first place, what are the answers supposed to do for me. Answers, answers, answers, answers, answers, answers, I'm searching for answers, answers, answers, why are my guardian angels shattered when I need them, and why are there no tears in my eyes. Answers, answers, answers, answers, that no one can tell me, questions, questions, questions, questions, questions no one can answer. There are no answers, no answers, so what am I searching for exactly. The sea is only deep in the barren desert of the cold winter. Screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming in my head, they are, what they are, I don't know. They are, they are, they are, they are, they are screaming, I don't know what they want from me, I don't know what they want, I don't know what they are, I'm just running in circles while standing the same place, so I'm not moving at all in the end while I'm running in circles and spiraling down the straight aisle that's perhaps not straight in the end. Helping on one but no one, I scream for nobody's help, yet I hear my voice echo in the air, when I didn't even open my mouth in the first place, I don't know what I'm doing anymore, my leg isn't trembling, are they. What is this feelings of rush, that's like I'm falling down from somewhere high above where I am. Why do I feel like I'm sinking in a pit of nothing, when there's nothing to sink in, and you can't sink in pits, you can only fall in them, I don't know anymore. Who makes these rules for us to follow, what is logic, and says who that they are logical? Why do I have to follow these rules of logic, because that's what everyone else does, its it because I can't find my own logic? Logic, logic, logic, logic, logic, logic is not logical at all, now is it? Why are we standing on the ground, why can't it be the sky, why, why, why, why, why, why, I don't know what I'm saying anymore, what am I supposed to be saying. I can't say that I'm okay, because I don't know if I'm okay, I don't know what this feeling is, nor will I ever understand, perhaps, do I have to be okay? What is okay? Are you okay? Is anyone really what we say is okay, just because we are happy, does that make things okay, why can't we be okay when we're sad, why do we have to be unhurt to be okay, okay, okay, what is okay, what is anything, what in the world is what. whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat

Blabbering

Mood: happy; confused
Currently: having a mild migraine
Listening to: Silky Heart --Yui Horie [Toradora OP2]

So I just finished skimming through everyone's blogs, and my head's like, wooosh. Argh, my head . . . I don't even think I got half of that information down . . . (kind of pointless for me to read them in the first place then?!)

So. I'm going to the movies with Jennie later at Towne Center. I wonder why she decided to invite me all of the sudden. Perhaps it was due to our reunion at Towne Center on Friday?! Regardless, I'm happy. I haven't seen her since last year (disregarding yesterday, that is). Except there are going to be a lot of people from her school that I don't know, so it may be a tad awkward. Oh well, I'm sure they're nice people since they're friends with Jennie! Sarah's going to be there, so at least I won't be the only "outsider" there?

You know, I really like Hershey's Cookies'n'Cream candy bars. Well, I wouldn't like to eat massive quantities, but they're nice to eat now and then. I'm currently eating those mini ones. They're delicious, though I think they aren't helping my headache. I should stop.

Violet Viola

Mood: happy; thoughtful
Currently: eating; watching Toradora episode 16
Listening to: Vanilla Salt --Yui Horie

"'The thing you wish for the most is something you'll never get.' When I came to understand that, I didn't know what to do. At that time, Kitamura-kun smiled and held my hand. He's such a kind person. I can't show him how grateful I am by a simple 'thank you.' I understand the one he likes isn't me, however, I want to do what I can for him. Just like he did for me."
"Kanou Sumire! Am I doing something wrong? Fight me!"
"I don't understand who's wrong and who isn't. All I know is . . . I can't stop moving forward!"

One of my favorite parts in the Toradora series.
--
SUMIRE --Japanese;English-- Viola Mandshurica (AKA Fuji Dawn)

Violent
Violet
Blossom,
Bloom,
Let your
Bold
Bud
Bloom.

Release your
Vicious
Vice,
Vexing
Bind,
Suffocating
Sufferings,
And Malignant
Melancholy.

Violent
Viola
Blossom,
Bloom,
Be Purged
Be Purified.

Sumire.

"The Devil Inside, I See Your Eyes Are Changing . . ."

Mood: happy; confused; stressed
Currently: trying to work on my English essay but failing
Listening to: Poison Kiss --The Last Goodnight

"green to white. There's nowhere to hide, inside I feel the same. I feel the same way, too." Poison Kiss --The Last Goodnight
Anyhow. I seriously confuse myself sometimes. I feel like I have a point that I want to say, which totally makes sense in my head. But once I try to reason with it or start talking about it, I'm just like, that totally makes no sense at all . . . Like, for dinner, there was this soysauce filled dish or something. Anyhow, I was looking at it from a certain angle that the glint of the light made the brown liquid look white. Strangely enough, I started to think how if I tried to paint that, it would be really confusing if I painted it all white on the surface. Then for some reason, I thought that was a understandable. I thought about it more, wondering if I should bring it up in a conversation. Then I was like, wait what? Because it is white from my perspective. Why would it be weird to paint it that way? I tried to explain it to myself, then I started wondering why I was even thinking about painting in the first place. Eventually I told myself that I would make a good abstract painter, which only proved to confuse myself even more. I swear, I wish there was an off button for my mind. It thinks about the strangest things and I'm seriously worried if it's something that I subconciously want to do or if that's what I honestly believe in. I'm scared to find out.

Best Day. Ever.

November 5, 2009. 11:37PM. Anticipating, expectant, slightly hopeful, nervous.
November 5, 2009. 11:39PM. Shocked, surprised, confused, denial, realization, happy, trembling, overjoyed, on-top-of-the-world, jumping off the walls, I-would-scream-in-happiness-if-my-dad-wasn't-sleeping mode, life-couldn't-get-any-better mood, this-is-the-best-day-of-my-life feeling.
Suffice to say. November 5. Of 2009. At 11:39PM. Despite the fact that it was 21 minutes away from midnight. November 5. Was indeed. The best day of my 15-year old life. Best. Day. No matter what cruddy things happened to me earlier on that day. It's been overruled. Even if my day started from awful. It's now awesome. I don't even remember what I did. But it was definitely an awesome day. A beautiful day. A wonderful day. A terrific day it was! What did I do? NO CLUE. But it doesn't matter. It was, to put it simply, an absolutely-positively-awesome-possum-blossom-tremendous-stupendous-supercalifragilisticexpialidocious day. November 5 is the best day ever. November is a wonderful month. 5 is a wonderful number. When you combine them, it's just the most incredible thing. Ever. Am I repeating myself too much? I'm repeating myself too much. Okay.

Death by the Light

Butterscotch and roses; caramel and blood; whispers are screams.
^Ignore that.

Just felt like posting randomly. I don't even have much to say. And I have a rather lot of homework left to do. Well, me procrastinating doesn't surprise me at all.
"Can I BE any more lazy?" as Chandler from Friends may say.
I don't feel like doing anything. I don't want to wake up in the morning at six in the morning just to face the 50 degrees Fahrenheit cold. I don't want to play football where the grass is so wet it soaks through my shoes. I don't want to sit in a room where I don't feel like I belong in. I don't want to be in a class where math equations prove nothing besides that I'm one of the four idiots in the class that couldn't get a 6/6 on the easiest opener. I don't want to have a class that is filled with annoying people who say annoying things as we do annoying work. I don't want to have a class where my teacher has to make a scene when I raise my hand because I have the least participation points in the class. I don't want to walk to the library where I'm practically hunched over my work sleeping the entire time. I don't want to do my homework that is either too easy or too hard. And no offense guys, but I don't want to dress up and run around playing all night after having class all day because the Chinese don't celebrate Halloween and art class just doesn't know what the heck a "holiday" is.
What I want? To sleep forever and never wake up. No suicidal implications here.
Basically a bunch of "don't wants" everywhere and a "I want". As if what I want matters in the world. There's a "I must" for those who want to live. And a "I want" for dreamers who think they can make it through life doing what they want to do. Those people either get lucky and succeed in "life" or those people are dying on the streets, bundled up in newspaper, because frankly, winter mornings are freezing cold, even in California.
Knowing me, I'd probably be the one dead in an alleyway, probably died from thirst/hunger or froze to death in my sleep, maybe I died from illness, perhaps the rats bit me to death.

Meaningless

I don't know.

There's always a hole between me and everyone. There will always be a void that I and no one can fill. A gap called feelings.

"I see." "Do you really?" It all started then.

When someone rants to you about something. And then you end it off with a "I see", a common, almost automatic, response, the conversation sort of dies from there. But then, that person said, "Do you really now?" Then I thought about it. Do I really know how someone feels after such an explanation? Can I truly ever understand, can anyone understand, how someone else feels?

I thought that if I wrote, I could convey my feelings to others. But in the dark room, the film of Lord of the Flies was playing, and after listening to people laugh at depressing parts, it seems closer to impossible. Although the actors weren't really in any danger, but they symbolized the feelings the author wanted to portray. Instead of focusing on how terrified Ralph was, some people laughed at his facial expression. If we were in his seat, making such a face may have been inevitable, or rather, we wouldn't have cared if our face looked weird. Does this even make sense? Is this even important? I wonder.

I used to think, actually, I came to think that my purpose in life was to listen to people, to understand them, to help them. I kind of feel like . . . my life really doesn't have a meaning to it.

"What makes your life worse than anyone out there?" My, this person makes me think a lot. But there's actually nothing to think about, because my life isn't worse than anyone I know out there. I was often told that I was perfect. Smart, pretty, skinny, nice, and all those other things. I was told my life was perfect. My parents are alive and living together, I get along with my sister, I have a home and a place where I belong.

It's so stupid. That I want to throw my life away. I want to bring forth death, but I'm too scared to. Am I subconsciously aware how ridiculous I am acting? But I want it to shut up. I want my mind to just shut up. I'm afraid of myself.

"What makes your life worse than anyone out there?" There's nothing. I have no reason. Nothing about my life is worse than anyone's. Yet I still want to die? Stupid. I can't even begin to comprehend how everyone else is enduring their life, but they're still going. If only I could give my life away. I used to joke around with friends that we should tell people who have no life to go buy one on the internet, they're free (not really, of course), but now, I kind of wish I could put my life on sale. My family, my face, my existence, I want to give it all away. Everything but my thoughts.

I recently said to a friend that I think it's pointless for him to complain to me if there's nothing I can do to solve the problem or if I can't help him feel better. He asked me why. Simply, I said, because it makes me feel like talking to me is just a waste of effort. Later he purposely asked for help on homework, then later asked, "Feel any better?" Stubbornly, I said, "A tad bit." He asked why else was I upset. I didn't reply. Because it's pointless to tell him. He can't do anything to help me and my dream. No one can because achieving true happiness is impossible. No one can be happy all the time. Everyone has to suffer, and everyone has to be sad every now and then, if not most of the time.

Ah, if I think about it, it's actually meaningless for me to say any of this. Nothing can be done about how I feel. No one can assure me that I understand how others feel. I can't even assure myself that I understand how I feel. Nobody can completely calm my suicidal and gory thoughts. I wish myself they'd go away. There isn't a person who can successfully lie to me that society is always happy. The impossible is impossible. It's a fantasy that can't be achieved. It merely pushes burden onto others or just utterly wastes their time.

Sorry, I was wrong to say life is meaningless when someone asked, "What is the meaning of life?" I'll correct myself now by saying, "My life is meaningless."

idek

Yesterday was one of the best days I've had in this year. So firstly, my classes didn't seem to bite at me, even though I was in a rush to finish some homework in the morning. My lunch was delicious, a chicken bake from Costco. It's the ultimate lunch, I swear. Hot and crisp, yum! Soggy and squished, still yummy! That cheered me up quite a bit. Then I felt like I productively bonded with my friends today. I got to talk to Diana and such. Mingled with Emily and company. I had a chance to hang out with Hee Soo, Yasmin, and Revathi after school, since Hee Soo made me go to this cross country event. That was pretty fun. My chief editor, Janet, said hi to me afterschool when she saw me on the bleachers. I got to say hi to one of the page editors that I've gotten to know, Ryan, and cheer for him on as he ran. So that was nice.
Strangely, I feel really depressed now, though. I don't even really want to talk about it.

Mere Fantasies

I think I've found the source of my recent depression. I think it's my parents. Not like they've done anything, but you know, they just can't as young as they were when I was in elementary school, you know? It's been pretty weird that my mom and dad's hair, for maybe the last two years, to be growing white. It's like a reminder how old my sister is, how old I am, and obviously, how old they're getting. And since my mom's in China, the house has been more quiet. No car chase scenes or Korean people shouting from the television screen. No random comments my parents make or laughing when the music is all sad. Just the humming of my motherboard and the tapping of my keyboard is accompanying me this night. Last night, the night before, it's so quiet. And so sad. I've been getting along with my father pretty well. We talk more than we would before. Maybe it's because my mom isn't around for him to talk to. The house has toned down a bit ever since my sister went to college, and I wonder if my parents will like their life with me out of their hair. Will they be happy with their freedom, or sad with the stilled air? Would they be thinking in depth about my departure? Or is their matured mind prepared and that my absence would not disturb them. But it's so creepy when they talk about retirement. They aren't that old. Then again, it's from 5-7 years difference, between my parents' ages and a majority of my friend's parents. The difference of a sixth grader and a first-year college student. Mere numbers seem too simple in my eyes, but in the eyes of my past, it seemed just way too distant. Heh, I just remembered an old fear of mine, from when I was maybe in the second grade. I used to be afraid that my parents would soon become elderly, their appearances similar to my grandparents, and that they would forget how to speak English. Somehow that became the reason why I studied Chinese. In eight years, I've grown enough to know that my silly fears won't just happen, but it's still haunting, the image of my parents old and fragile. It seems impossible for your strong parents to look like such a shadow of their past. Then there's those "Joint Juice" containers around the house that reminds you that they aren't strong and reminds you of their aches from age. If life was a neverland, we'd always be living the same roles. The rebellious child, the nagging parents, the bothersome siblings, and wouldn't it all be well? In a fantasy world.

I'm Losing the Will to Live

I wonder if spirits exist. Today, on the Chinese holiday, the Moon Festival, my dad held a small ceremony for his father, my grandfather, which he hold in the backyard every few months. My grandfather died a few years back, and my father would sometimes take the framed picture of his father to the backyard, bring food out, burn fake Chinese money, and burn incense and candles. He would go ahead burning the money, and then after he finished a package, he stands there in a moment of silence. I wonder what he thinks during that time. For the weeks after my grandfather passed away, I was not allowed to go to his funeral because of school. So at home, I'd face a corner and just sit there. I wondered if I prayed to my grandfather there, if he'd hear me. If he did, if he was there, everywhere, would he understand English? Would my poor Chinese grammar allow him to understand what I'm trying to say to him. I'd sit there just once in a while and talk to him through my thoughts. If I was at home alone, I'd talk outloud. sometimes I'd talk about my day, others I'd tell him my guilt. I wonder . . . if he's proud of me. Does he approve of my decisions, my beliefs, my actions? Will he understand why I choose to follow the path I do? My beliefs are messed up, but they're mine. Would he respect me for trying to protect what I believe?
Is he there, though? Is there an afterlife? What is the point of living if you're going to die and there's nothing? My history teacher, who's also the psychology teacher told us why she thinks different cultures have their own beliefs, or rather, why mankind try to make themselves believe there is an afterlife. She said it's because we want some sort of result from our actions on Earth. To hope those who did wrong, God, the underworld, or their next life will punish them. Those who are good are rewarded somehow. But really, there's no point in living if we get nothing. What's the point? I don't want to live if there'll come a day when there's nothing. Everything I leave behind, how much will stay. How much will keep existing on this dying world? Is there an end of the world? Is everything humans have done to improve life done nothing but to slowly destory the Earth and everything will prove in vain. Pain, fear, hatred, sins. I wonder if everything I feel is worth less than ashes. A gentle wind can stir them and a small gust can blow them away, then they're just part of the dirt we tread on. What's the meaning of life, indeed?
Speaking of my history teacher, as well as the idea of being punsihed in your next life, my history teacher also spoke of that. The Hindu belief, which I have somehow come to believe at one point in my life*, is where you will be reincarnated and depending on how heavy your sins were in your past life, that's how much you will suffer in the future. That is your punishment. She said something along those lines. I've began to wonder about how there is more unhappiness than joy (this was some other day when I was pondering this). If reincarnation is real, and what my teacher said was true, then no wonder our lives are sometimes feel like it's falling apart. This is just from a manga, but I believe it said the right words. "Our hands are stained by the blood from the animals our ancestors killed." In the next life, we were punished by what they did in the past. Then collectively, from Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride, the so called seven deadly sins, our lives have come to how it is so far. Pain, fear, hatred, sins. Maybe our lives will continue this way. Our simple lives and our simple pains have evolved. Every step forward is a step backwards. You can't stop going forward. Every jump is a fall. Every smile is a frown. Everything is useless. Everything you do is going to ruin everything.

*My version of the "Hindu belief" was that you died, go to either heaven or the underworld. If you go to heaven, you will be forgiven by the small blunders of your life--since I don't believe anyone dies pure and free of sins except for the unborn or newborns. If you go to the underworld, you will be punished and purged. Then you'll reincarnated as a new person who'll get a fresh start.

It's Worse for Me

I just want to angrily rant about a friend of mine (I'll probably stay up all night doing homework now). So today he was being dumb and hurt his arm. Online, I sent an instant message asking how was his arm, because it was bleeding rather bad. He said it was okay, but it hurt when he moved his forearm. I said, "I see" and he asked, "Do you really now?" Then he had to go into the whole pessimist mode, saying how nobody understands the extent of his injuries. WHAT THE H--- IS THAT? He ranted a list of things that happened to him, "I've sprained my left knee twice, scraped both knees until they bled profusely, burned three fingers by touching an iron, had to use crutches for my knee, had my hand crushed in an elevator when I was three" then he challengingly said, "Need I continue?" That just ticked me off. Sure, it sounds painful, all of that, but to say nobody understands the extent of his pains? I don't know why but that just infuriates me. I think I have an issue with people thinking I don't understand how they feel. Anyhow, I just got freaking ticked at him and ranted, "So? What makes you think that no one else is in pain? Do you think everyone is living in this fantasy that you aren't living in? Let me tell you, yeah, you've been in some pretty bad incidents, and yeah, you're probably been in lots of pain, but don't assume that no one else can even imagine what you've gone through, because a lot of us has been in a bunch of s---, that you don't know anything about how we felt or what we experienced." As I wrote that, I thought about my injury history. I burned my little finger on accident when I was a child; wooden boards fell on my foot, crushing my toenails inwards and making it bleed; getting hit in the eye by the corner of the locker door, damaging it a little; scraped my leg on the escalate (One foot was on the moving floor, and the other wasn't, therefore the toothed edge of the escalated scrapped against my leg. Obviously, I wasn't a very bright child.); and other little insignificant things in my life where I have hurt myself. For the most part, I kept my hands to myself, tried to stay out of trouble, and followed my parents to wherever they took me.
I haven't many other significantly troubling events happen in my life. Yeah, my life IS good compared to most. My sister didn't do drugs, my ex didn't get shot, my friend didn't get in a car crash and is in the hospital getting surgery, none of my relatives or friends have died from an accident, my family isn't poor, I get an education, I get fed three meals a day, I have more clothes then I can remember to wear, and you know, all my problems are over dramatized because I hate to hear people tell me that my life is perfect. People tell me I'm pretty, skinny, smart, and just overly perfect. If I could tear off my face and give it to you, I would. If I could trade bodies with you, I would. If I could give you whatever intelligence you think I have, I'd give it to you. If you want my life, you can have it if you can take it. I don't care if I'm ugly, fat, dumb, or suffering (probably wouldn't say that when I'm in pain, but I say it now). Take everything I have, d--- it, because I hate living some stupid, "perfect" life I have. Besides trying to help others and trying to protect my beliefs, I don't have much I'm living for. It's so ridiculous how I wished I had a worse life so other people won't feel like their life sucks in comparison to me. It's so stupid how I wished I had a worse life because I want to experience to what extent of other people's pains are. It's so dumb of me to wish that I have a worse life so I . . .