Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Awechords


the nerds that nobody cares about
the ones who are always called last to eat
the awkward picture takers
the potty mouths
the annoying kids that are always singing
the unofficial asian acapella group that nobody's heard of

yeah...they totally make my time here worthwhile
love you guys!
but damn why we gotta have rehearsal today :(

Friday, January 14, 2011

You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Did we really?

there are certain smells, textures, and sounds that can bring you back to a memory. not just mentally where you gotta close your eyes and fill the darkness of the inside of your eyelids slowly with vague images. its the whole freakin shabang. the kind where your body gets mercilessly thrown off of that uncomfy wooden chair in your dorm room and you physically feel your body land smack down n center in the past. your eyes stay open but everything they should be seeing disappears and is replaced by every tiny detail of the surroundings you were in at that moment which now seems so long ago.




so weird dooz

Monday, January 10, 2011

Zzzzzzz

Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream

Monday, January 3, 2011

Little Green Book

Perhaps the best thing that a teacher in middle school could have done for me was to force me to articulate my dreams in writing. How quickly I forgot about them.

Looking at myself now, I guess these dreams were actually engrained in my subconscious. To have kept them to myself would have been to write in the sand. Scribble on soft clay. But I realize now that, at 2 and 10, I had set my dreams ablaze. They were hardened. Made to last.

Yes, people change. We make change with dollar bills all the time, whether or not we like that jingle in our pockets and clanks in our washing machines. I can't help it if I change. Can't help it if my dreams get weathered and worn. But the point is, I guess no one did believe in me more than 12-year-old me. Can't let her down now.