Pocket of Secrets

Mood: happy; neutral
Currently: watching Nabari No Ou Episode 10
Listening to: (watching) Nabari No Ou Episode 10

"There are three kinds of secrets. Something that you hide at the bottom of your heart because you don't want it to be mentioned. Something that you can't mention even if you want to. Something that you hope someone asks about even though you're hiding it." Nabari No Ou Episode 10

Dude, I have like, no homework today. Well, except for math, but still. This is one of those rare moments in my life where I will have this little homework, I need to celebrate or something. And catch up on my sleep. Oh my goodness, with all this free time, I suddenly want to do everything. I want to write, I want to read, I want to run, I want to sing, I want to dance, I want to play video games, I want to draw, I want to paint, I want to laugh with my stuffed animals, I want to try playing the piano again, I want to dig up my old flute and try to play a few notes, I want to play board games and chess with myself, I want to sit on the bench in my backyard and sip hot chocolate while getting startled by passing-by bugs, I want to climb up a tree and pretend I have a tree house as my secret getaway, I want to sit on the swing of the fruit tree in our front yard before it was cut down, I want to play Yu-Gi-Yo with the neighborhood kids on the cement that paved over what used to be our front yard, I want to play handball against my garage, I want to chase stray cats while barking as if I were a dog, I want to sit in my room in the dark with my blanket hanging above my head and a flashlight as a campfire as eat those Korean chocolate mushroom snacks with my sister, I want to do it all over again, just for the heck of it. But such hopes never come true. I can only close my eyes and think, "Ahaha, yeah, those were great times. It was nice to live in ignorance and bliss. Feeling miserable over the silliest things and getting over it for no reason at all."

This girl in my journalism class was complaining to the peer counselor in our class about the most interesting person I've yet to hear about. This person is probably a genius, one who has topped the intelligence of my sister. "She's a valedictorian of Whitney high school, takes hard classes (honors and APs and such), AND volunteered in India for a while, AND volunteered at shelters, AND (she listed a huge list of things, I swear), AND you know what? She has time to go shopping and she has such great style. I swear, she is the best looking nerd you will ever see. I envy her so much, I mean, I dress like a hobo, I'm struggling to get my 'A's. Yet she has gotten 4.0's every year, and I've known her all my life. God, I just don't understand how there people who can do that stuff. And you know, I'm so freakin' worried about college, I really want to go to Berkeley, but I don't do anything. And I don't even blame my parents, they've done everything to help me. Like this one time, you know how my thing is singing right? So my mom made me join this one contest thing and I would have probably gotten first place if I wasn't so stubborn and say, no I don't want to. And now that I look back, that would have looked so good on my application, because you know, no one ever does that stuff. Ugh, and I also went into the Cerritos (insert whatever she said, I don't remember) Talent Show thing and won first place for four years, but then I just stopped. Ugggh. I've s----ed myself over."
It was interesting, secretly smiling to myself. How strange. I have the strangest and smallest hope that I would also be able to go to Berkeley, but listening to this girl crack at how she thinks she won't make it into Berkeley when, as far as I know, has done more than I have. Makes me wonder, if she doesn't make it, I wonder what will happen to me. I didn't have to think about it. A lot of people in journalism has the dream of going to Berkeley, and yet again, I smile to myself quietly. In regards to overall grades, I'm probably in the 26th place among the 28 students. And as I don't try and as I silently listen to these people tear their hearts out at the thought of not making it into Berkeley, I can't help but to smile. Why? It's fascinating to watch my own life, full of opportunities, pass me by, as if I were watching my own life from a third-person's point of view.
Life, so fleeting, but I have little desire to lift my heavy feet and catch it. But if I say "little desire", does this mean I still want to make an effort to make what's disappearing in the distance mine? Heh, I thought of an interesting metaphor. You know how some Japanese (?) have like a sort of ramp with running water on it, then they put soba (?) at the top, and the noodles run down with the water, and you have to catch it in order to eat it. It's kind of like that. To eat, you must catch it, if you don't act, the chance will either float away or someone else will take it.

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.

Sixteen Going On Seventeen

Mood: happy; neutral
Currently: eating apples while mulling over my newspaper article
Listening to: the humming of the laptop; the distant ramble of the radio

If people were reborn every year on the same day and time as the first time they were created, I suppose I would have been born for the sixteenth time on February 21, [approximately] 11:20AM.
I've been wondering for a while, what am I going to be like as I get older? Will I become more mature? Will I be more responsible? Will I look more like my mother and sister? Will my morals and beliefs change?
There was a time in elementary school where I was reading a Chinese Mashimaro comic book we got randomly on vacation, and there was a section in English. And so, I decided to read that part outloud. But I accidentally said the s-word as a result. With my sister sitting behind me at her desk, she exclaimed that I shouldn't say that word. Thus my promise with my sister that I wouldn't curse was born. However, it was actually her who has grown up to curse. Just an example of people and their fickle morals. Or perhaps, that was never a boundary for her, the censoring of vulgar words, but just an expectation for me . . .

Thank the Real Superstars

Mood: happy; thoughtful
Currently: busy, but I still felt like I had to come here record my random ponderings
Listening to: What Hurts the Most --Rascal Flatts

Goodness me, I've been so busy this week, it's not even funny. I'm looking forward to the weekend so much, but that joy has been killed when I realize that I have Chinese and art class still on Saturday. At least I plan to spend a quiet day on Sunday. Anyhow, back to my purpose here.
I was reading the article in my English textbook for homework when it mentioned the rosy periwinkle found in Madagascar, and it can be used to create medicine that seems to effectively fight off blood cancers. The article was about how we should try to preserve wildlife and such, then a line said, "Cancer specialists believe there could be at least another ten tropical forest plants with capacity to generate similar superstar drugs against other forms of cancer--provided the scientist can get them before the chainsaw of devastates their habitats." I thought about it a little, and wondered if scientists were really in tropical forests now looking for these medical plants. If there are, I wonder if the search is dangerous, in that insecure forest. Are they protected from poisonous animals and plants? Is the terrain difficult to travel on? Is there anything in that forest that can cause these scientists to extract some sort of disease? I don't really know if those brief videos that included tropical forests I've watched in history were recent or not. Actually, I'm not even sure if it really took place in a tropical forest at all. Regardless, I was just curious about the situation. Suppose if those scientists were facing dangers in that forest, looking for miraculous plants, what do they have in mind? Is it fame? Or is it the well-being of mankind? And if it were for mankind, how much would we appreciate their efforts? We'll take the medicine and live on. As time goes on, perhaps if we find some way to cure and prevent cancer some way some how, we won't think that it's so serious anymore. The people of the future will get a dulled feeling of appreciation for those brave scientists because cancer doesn't feel as scary to them with a cure by their sides. And maybe those people will take the medicine and live carelessly even after they are cured, without the appreciation for life or giving thanks to those scientists who labored over the difficult task of discovering and creating medicine for us. The world is waiting for those scientists. The rest of the world full of people who either didn't have enough skill to become a scientist, people who didn't have the passion to become a scientist, and people who didn't want the bothersome task of being a scientist. People are waiting for scientists. Waiting to take the things they have been given with little intention of giving back.

"I cried while wondering, 'if I protect them, who will protect me?'" --

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.

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

-looks around-

Mood: happy; neutral
Currently: eating Little Ceasars pizza
Listening to: Sorry Sorry --Super Junior

Lost my train of thought.

By the way, my previous post was a mixture of the actual anime and my own little flairs. Basically saying, I used pretty much the same plot and basic events but changed it up a bit with my own ideas.

Now . . . what was I going to write earlier . . . ?

Huggables

Mood: happy; missing someone
Currently: being an insomniac
Listening to: Sink or Swim --Tyrone Wells

Sink or Swim is a great song, I recommend it, though it was first recommended to me by Michelle. Anyhow, as another personal note, I think it's a nice song to sing to.
I'm currently just sitting around here, wondering if I regret taking that two hour nap in the afternoon which caused me to sit here at my desk doing nothing. If anything, I could do math, though I feel like I can just do it during the hour wait for first period to start after zero, and if I don't finish it even then, I have journalism, another rough hour or so. All in all, I don't really want to do it. Why? I'm not in a mood to do math. I'm in a writing mood, and thus I'm here. I should be working on my story, but every time I do, I write a line and then get distracted. I haven't been able to focus on my story very well lately, though I think I don't have it in me to write very much from where I am. I've pretty much done a resketch of the entire story, though the main plot and theme doesn't change. Pretty much, you could say it's like a country that has just started, like when the American colonies broke away from Europe, and things are going slowly right now. Place on a few more bricks before a stronger foundation is formed. For that to happen, one needs time, and unfortunately for me, I measure this time by how many days I idle past my story, rather than how long I take to work on it. I wonder if this makes me an irresponsible author-in-progress. Probably.
Let's see, the main topic for the day is based on my friend's AIM status: "...I suddenly really want a hug...wtf." I would have IMed her this, but as a college student, she's probably busying herself with her own things. Regardless, what I would have said would have probably been along the lines of, "Ahaha, I get that feeling all the time!" Which I seriously do, it's kind of weird and uncomforting. It's like when you are about to sneeze, then you suddenly lost it, then you feel like you really want to sneeze, but can't anymore, so you feel slightly uncomfortable afterwards. It's like that except you don't lose the hug, which I don't even know how one would do that. But sometimes I just randomly want a hug. Which, on the downside for me, is kind of hard to get. Why? It's pretty awkward since I don't hug people normally, so I tend to tense up a little at the physical contact. There's only those few people who I hug or can hug me without me thinking, "agh, this is seems kind of weird . . ." That makes out to be three people, really. Another reason is that quite a few of my friends don't really want to be hugged, and therefore, I don't. One way or another, I don't ever seem to be able to satisfy my random wishes. And thus, after reading my friend's status, I thought, "The desire for hugs bite at you more than hunger at your stomach sometimes."
That's pretty much all I wanted to say. If you found my rant incoherent, I don't blame you. I'm not really thinking clearly anymore.