On a Positive Note

"Even when the stars

stop shining,

when the tears begin to fall

like pouring rain...

even when it's hard

to keep on fighting,

when things will never be the same...

I want you to remember

with the very whole of your heart

that there's always a silver lining

a chance for a brand new start."

Along the Winding Path

at exactly 7:04 on Sunday morning, two people woke up.

The loud ringing of the metal alarm clock that lay on her dresser woke her up,

and as much as sleeping in seemed like an inviting prospect...

it was Sunday morning.

she had a place to go.

The loud honking of cars and buses on the nearby street woke him up,

and as much as a good sleep was really all he needed right now...

it was Sunday morning.
he had a place to go.

The click clack of her heels against the pavement.
She knew this path by heart,
been here a million times.
Pass the firehouse,
cross the street,
the winding trail-
with the hollow tree.
His dress shoes were most definitely not suited for this weather,
but nevertheless, he continued.

The crunch of the cobblestone path underneath his feet.

He knew this path by heart, been here a million times,

now the end of the trail.

He opened the rusty gate,

eyes traveled the place.

She saw the tombstone.
Though she had never been here before,
she knew where it was.

And somehow,

Although he had never been here before,
He knew where it was.
A step.
Then another.
And another and another and another.

Two steps.
Then a pause.
Then another and another and another.
8:01
Footsteps.
She stopped,
with the roses that we now wilting

in hand.

8:01

Footsteps.

at exactly 8:04 on Sunday morning, a sister and a brother stood at their mother's grave,

hand in hand.

so close yet

so far apart.

Just a Reminder...

"Laugh your heart out

dance in the rain

cherish the moment

ignore the pain

live, laugh, love

forgive and forget

life's too short to be

living with regrets."

- unknown

I'm sorry if you've heard this quote one too many times from me, but hearing it again never hurts. (:

A Different Type of Hello

asdfghjkl; hello. (:

no, really. Think about it, there really isn't a defined emotion when you press a bunch of random keys on your keyboard, it can mean anything. happiness, frustration, sadness, excitement, impatience, anything. and so really, perhaps it is the best way to express one's feelings and thoughts...haha anyways aside from that little tangent there, hopefully life is good. I know that Spring Break is approaching and it's so close...yet so far... but it'll come soon, don't worry (:

This is just a random thing that just popped into my mind, but, the other day...

"You know, I'd really like to write a novel."

"Alright then, go for it!"

"Hm maybe..." "I'm going to Starbucks."

"Why?"

"Oh you know, that's where all the great writers get their ideas..."

"Mm right...just like in the movies."

Hmm haha for some reason this conversation made my day, because really, as much as the "author sitting at their little table with their Mac and their cup of coffee thinking up their next bestseller" is something that always comes to mind, well...We can achieve just as much standing in a deserted field with a pencil and paper(: (ok, fine, exaggeration...but you know what I mean)...Keep in mind that the person in that conversation felt as if the concept alone of writing a novel would be impossible. But honestly, sometimes the limitations and things that keep up from achieving our goals aren't neccessary and it's always important to remember that as cliche as this sounds, you really can get anywhere from anything. No, the Justin Bieber movie isn't getting to me haha"never say never"- it's just that sometimes we have to take a breath from everything and realize that... those dreams that once seemed impossible? Not so much anymore.

Wistful Blue

There used to be a lone picture that hung in the studio where I took music lessons in. It was a rather beautiful picture, to be honest with you, but I don't really think that anyone noticed it...you could say that it blended into the background. Not that the background was much, consider a few pale cream walls, an occasional orchid in a vase or two and that was pretty much it. Anyways, the "anyone" from before also included me...ask me to describe the piano bench in the room and I'll describe it better than I could describe that picture, ask me to describe the bookshelf with the peeling white paint that stood in the corner and I would be able to describe it better than that picture--Ask me to tell you how many tiles were on the ceiling and I would probably be able to give you a better guess than how that picture looked like. You get the point, that picture just was the type of thing that was always there, but you just never really paid attention to. The only reason that this picture was brought to my attention was during one particularly long (and what I deemed completely irrelevant) side conversation from my violin teacher. In an attempt to subtly disguise my bored-ness (okay, well not really. He knew that no one cared about the different between black tea and green tea), I began to look absentmindedly around the room and my eyes landed on it...

On a bare canvas,

an artist has poured out

their emotions.

Not subtly or quietly either.

Rather,

the sadness,

conflict,

and turmoil

blend with the hues

of love,

joy,

and ecstasy,

creating a slow waltz

of memories,

hopes,

and pieces of the past.

The colors are bright

and then cold.

Warm

and then

hostile.

But the color that most wishes to be heard

travels throughout,

sometimes merely a lurking visitor,

and other times, the star of the show.

These are the blues.

These are shades of melancholy,

That speak out with their irony,

and seem a stranger-

among the rest.

They brush past the violet,

in a swift and smooth gesture

and meet the greens with a final farewell,

for they have done their job.

Conversations

Sometimes I like to
Talk to the trees.
And I wonder if they ever...
listen.
And I wonder what they would say
if they could talk back.
Maybe they can.

Sometimes I like to
Pretend.
that the sky
and the stars
and the moon
are my friends.
And the memories that I've shared-
on the wonderful place called Earth
will forever be there
in our friendship.
Maybe they will.

Sometimes I like
to sit and stare out the window
and tell my dreams to the clouds...
even if they really don't care.

Because,
maybe,
just maybe,
they do.

A Wavering Star

There is a dream

that lays deep in her closet.

Piles and piles

of Broadway posters,

monologues,

and a pair of tap shoes.

It's been...

almost three years since she last saw this dream,

but she has left it even since,

letting it hid behind the wooden door.

Sometimes

she will stare at the rain

and wish that it was all back

that she was

a performer,

again.

But she will stare at the haunting photo

that lies on her desk

and remember her father-

and suddenly she returns

to reality.

How can she go on without him?

Child, I want you to go on with your dreams,

no matter how impossible they seem to reach,

no matter what stands in your way,

you must go on.

-

Twelve years have passed by.

The girl cradles the faded photo in her hand

and stares at her father's picture.

no matter what stands in your way,

you must go on.

And she did.

2010. and counting...

Here goes, my last post of the year (:

2010.

It's been great. There have been so many adventures, fun times, and special moments along the way. As I sit here at this computer, I could go on about the good times of the past, but honestly, right now I'm looking towards the future. And why? Because, if I were a fortuneteller sitting at my crystal ball right now, I could tell you that I see a long road of happiness, new adventures, and experiences. I can't say exactly what the future will hold, but I know that it will be even better. Thanks to the friends, family, and people who surround me every single day and made this year as good as it was...and hopefully you'll be with me throughout 2011 as well. Thanks for being there through good times (so many), the bad times (we all have them), and the middle times (yeah I dont know :)). It's been a great year.

2011. http://www.google.com/imgres?

Well we'll have to wait and see...but wishing you a prosperous and wonderful new year 2011 and may your hopes, dreams, and wishes come true.

Sincerely,

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Merry Christmas (: Hopefully you had your share of gift wrap, candy canes, gingerbread, and all the other wonderful things that make up the holiday season (: I'll be completely honest...I feel slightly guilty that I haven't posted on here in a while, but I guess that I too was caught up in most-wonderful-time-of-the-year-feeling. But excuses, excuses...I guess that I owe you some catching up, so here goes (: (Bear with me, this is going to be a rather scatter-brained post...)

First of all, I have to say that I love the holiday season (as those of you who know me probably know). Crowded malls, snow, the smell of Christmas? Yes.

Only, I have an experience to share with you. So, it was Christmas day, and we were driving to meet our relatives (aunt and uncle, cousins), you know, a nice family gathering. There is this sense of happiness, bliss in the air. The type of feeling that usually only comes a few times of the year, one of them being Christmas. The type of feeling you never can really take away. So anyways, then there we were...but something just seemed out of place. There we were in a warm car, with the things that we take for granted, you know...clothes, food, shelter, etc. And on the sidewalk...there was a man. Holding in one hand a ragged cardboard sign that said: "Homeless. Anything will be appreciated." Out in the cold. Now, I don't mean to be some dramatic Hollywood director here, you know, painting that whole dramatic story and taking away the spirit of Christmas...but...I just thought that it was ironic, is all. Just put a new perspective on things. How fortunate are we?

Ok. Now fast forward a bit. So, its around noon and everyone's opened their presents etc. and we're taking a walk outside...and I hear a girl...complaining.
"I didn't get what I wanted for Christmas."
"Look what she got! I wanted that!"
"I don't like my presents."
And I'm sure you'd like being out there in the cold on the sidewalk, living on a few coins rather than not get what you want for Christmas, right? Mhm. I have to admit, maybe I'm being a little picky, I mean what can you expect from an eight year old girl who's accustomed to get whatever she's wanted for Christmas for the past few years? But...still...

Alright. End of my rant (: On a more positive note, I was going through all the documents on my computer and since I save most documents, I brought one up (a poem) that I wrote oh about four years ago...I just thought that it was interesting how although people's writing over time, they usually still mantain the same sort of style...

The people smile, I smile right back,
I fly upon an eagle’s back.
My voice is heard among them all,
A strong loud voice, but not that small.
To soar in the stars, is a dream not to tell,
But to have all the others is also as well.

And alas, it is story time again (:

So anyways, I, admist the large amount of catching up with friends, family and such that I've done over winter break, buying presents, you know, all the usual holiday stuff, I still manage to fit time in for reading and catching up on the books that I've needed to finish up, but this is just an incident that happened while we were getting groceries...so anyways, this happened a while ago, but I was at Costcos when there was a book signing going on (I'm not quite sure who the author was) and admist this book signing this little boy comes up to her and says:
"Why are you an author?" Now for a boy about four or five years to say...this is quite unusual.
And so you can just see the author look at the boy with a questioning look on her face and the mom runs up behind the boy and says in a breezy voice something along the lines of "*laugh*..oh don't mind him...oh I just love your books!" and etc.
But the author turns to the boy and answers his question.
And she says "Because I love words." And she says it very confidently and with a slight smile on her face...
And the boy says "Me too. Especially big words."
The author and the mom both laugh...
This might have seemed like a normal episode to you, but the very essence of it was that, well, words are a beautiful thing (: haha I probably seem pretty bias here, but there are certain things that you can't really express through words and then there are things that sound amazing in words...(Back story: The reason why I brought up this random subject was because someone recently asked me 'why do you blog'...this is for you, anonymous person (; )

Okay, and we are back on the Holiday Debates Channel featuring your host (me), and a few guest stars.
Here is our current Holiday Debate: Is Santa Real?
18 year old girl: Yes.
Host: And why do you say this?
18 year old girl: You just have to believe that he's real...and then he is.
Host: Alright then, let's see what our other guest stars have to say...
2 year old child: Yes! Santa Claus is real!
Host: And what evidence do you have to support this?
2 year old child: Presents
Host: Thank you for those words and now, our final guest speaker...
Adult: Well...I guess that Santa is real for kids. I mean, we all know that he's not, but for the kids, he's the one who brings presents and comes down the chimney at night
Host: So, you don't really believe in him?
Adult: Do you?
Host: No comment. Alright then, thanks for watching that short segment and a special round of applause to our three guest stars! Stay tuned for our next segment on "Is Rudolph really the Best Reindeer?"

A brief commentary on that-yes, the guest stars were actual people in real life (who will remain anonymous), but I personally asked them whether they believed in Santa and those were their actual answers...only later I put them into a talkshow format... so there you go (:

And finally:

45 miles away,
there is a house.

The house is painted gold
and silver.
But there are no walls.

There is a wooden knocker,
but there is no door.

The steam rises from the house,
but the chimney
and the fireplace
are long gone.

The voices echo from inside,
but the people
have already left.

But 45 miles away,
there is a house.

Wishing you the best in the upcoming New Year and a great rest of winter break (:

Regrets

There's a pencil.
Waiting on the desk.
Patiently.
But I'm sorry...I can't think of anything to write.

There's a scrapbook.
Already open to the first page.
Anticipating.
But I'm sorry...There are no memories here.

There's a mountain.
Waiting for somebody to climb it.
Somebody up to the challenge...
But I'm sorry...I'm no climber.

There's a boy on the corner of the street;
cardboard sign in hand...
Desperate.
But I'm sorry...I can't help.

No. I just can't help.

Only Fate Will Tell

"I'm a big wisher. I'll wish on anything. Shooting stars, stray eyelashes, dandelion tops, coins in fountains. Birthday candles (my own and other people's)." -Finally, Wendy Mass

Rewind to yesterday. I was going to Purell my hands, which seems simple enough, but it got me thinking (as most things do). So, there I was with a Purell bottle and I squeezed a drop of it out, only something very strange happened this time. It formed an 'S'. Literally, an 'S'. I have no clue how. You might think that this is a silly coincidence, but it formed the most perfect S I have ever seen. Anyways, so for a few brief fleeting moments I was puzzled (should I take the superstitious route and consider this a 'sign'? Or was it was just a coincidence and should I just shrug it off?). Well, this must seem like an awful lot of thinking to do over a simple few drops of hand sanitizer, but it interested me...and got me thinking about...superstition. I know people with a broad spectrum of views on this subject:
-I have a friend who finds Friday the 13th and little trivial things like that 'fun' to believe in, but it's not that serious of a thing to her

-Then again, I know someone who thinks that anything involved/affiliated with myths/superstition is silly and obnoxious
-Oh and I know someone else who absolutely is superstitious 100%...everyone they do, everyone stroke of fate and luck is based on myths or superstition. Really.
Here are my basic views on superstition; I believe that it's fun and interesting to go along with everything like Friday the 13th etc., but I really think that there is a...stopping point. I won't base my actions, thoughts, or major decisions on anything superstitious, I just won't. Sure, I might read a Magic 8 Ball just for the enjoyment and I love the mystery aura that comes with it, but honestly? I think that there is a point when one can take things too far...Anyhow, as always; this is an opinion, and I am open to any new perspectives....What are your views on superstition?

No Matter Where This World Takes Us...

I'm not quite sure why....but I fell in love with this quote the minute I read it:

"Even though we've changed and we're all finding our own place in the world, we all know that when the tears fall or the smile spreads across our face, we'll come to each other because no matter where this crazy world takes us, nothing will ever change so much to the point where we're not all still friends."

Maybe...because it so accurately illustrates what we as people look for in our friendships, what is there in the strongest of friendships...or maybe because it is so beautifully phrased? I really don't know. But anyhow, I love it for what it is...Just thought that I'd share that :)

Oh and happy Halloween! Hope that you had your share of too much candy :)