the streetlights call out your name

unfinished business//
high school poetry//
the streetlights call out your name

All the roads we’ve traveled,
I remember every one.
All the wrong turns, all the wasted gas,
No, they weren’t a waste at all.

Cruising down the streets, windows rolled down,
Music blaring, singing out loud.
Every place I pass,
The benches, the streets,
Remind me of the nights we spent
Holding fast to racing heartbeats.

Remember when we waltzed atop the playground,
To the music in the air?
This night was made for us,
And we don’t want to share.
We’ll lay inside your car,
In a parking lot close by,
Seats tilted back, sitting side by side.
Gazing through the sunroof,
We’ll stare up at the sky,
Watching stars obscured by trees.
We’ll turn toward the streetlights,
And listen for the breeze.

her story vs. mine

———————————————
riddles mixed with rhyme.
music vs. line.
same story, different time.
her story vs. mine.
———————————————

I held my head high as you tore me down for all to see,
Standing vulnerable and naked, clutching at my dignity.
And as they stared, I pretended like I wasn’t aware,
That I didn’t care,
But this humiliation was too much for me to bear.

I played the part, I played it well,
I don’t think anyone could tell,
That I was having trouble breathing,
That my heart was barely beating,
While you parade around town,
With someone new to push around.

I close my eyes, and tread softly through my world,
Refusing to believe I’ve become this broken-hearted girl,
Because one wrong step, and I’ll go crashing through the floor,
But the pounding on my pride is almost too loud to ignore.

And then it happened; I knew it would eventually,
I knew it would catch up to me.
The truth burst through me like a hurricane wind,
Tore through my defenses like they were paper-thin.
Exposed the truth I’d been suppressing at my core,
That what you did left me in pieces on the floor.

It took all the king’s horses and all the king’s men,
To patch me back up, make me human again.
The road to recovery was twisted and long,
But I’m a survivor, and I’m moving on.

I never thought I could feel this strong,
After all those months of tucking pain into songs,
But I’m happier now than I’ve ever been,
Now that you’re gone, so let freedom ring.
There’s no way that I’d ever let you back in,
So tell me now, what were you even thinking?

Was it not enough to watch me fall into pieces?
You’re nothing but a long list of walking contradictions.
You may have fooled me once when I was naïve and young,
But I can see now you’re only looking out for number one.

I’ve learned my lesson, that love should be selfless,
And you need to learn how to keep your commitments.
Didn’t think I’d be able, but I’ll learn to love again,
Someday I’ll be able to let someone in,
He won’t be perfect, but he’ll be everything you aren’t,
And better yet, he won’t be anything you are.

emotionally and creatively constipated

Recently I had a conversation with someone about the connection between emo-ness and creativity.  We were talking about our pasts, our creative outlets, writing blogs, etc…when it occurred to me that I felt more creative when I had raw emotions driving me.  I told my friend that sometimes I wish I were still emo so that I could still produce emotionally jam-packed poetry like I used to in high school.  All that anger, hurt, sadness, frustration, hopelessness….let out in poetic, cathartic form.  Some of my best works were made when I was driven by the strongest emotions.

These past four or five years, I’ve felt emotionally and creatively constipated, for lack of better imagery.  It’s like I want to and try to be creative…but there hasn’t really been anything that’s gotten my creative juices flowing.  I suppose I can’t complain too much–it means I’ve been pretty happy without any major depressing or rage-inducing moments.  I should be thankful that in these last few years I’ve become happy and joyful (in the Lord, amen!).  But still, I found myself wishing for something to motivate the pen in my hand to write words to express things that single English words or phrases can’t contain.

But last night, I found myself in a strange situation.  I was lying in bed, ready to sleep, when words and memories and emotions started jumbling around in my head.  This used to happen to me a lot in high school, and I couldn’t go to sleep until I got it all out on paper.  I would jumble words around in my head, matching my emotions to words, words to lines, lines to meter and rhythm and rhyme.  Once I completed a stanza in my head, I would quickly scribble it out on a notepad in the half-darkness.  Then I would lay my head back down, close my eyes, and work on the next stanza.  I would leave a pad of paper, or a notebook, and pen/pencil by my pillow or on the bedstand, and reach for them when I had a thought, a line, or a stanza to jot down.

That was sort of what I was doing last night.  Those words, those thoughts and memories were something that’s been lingering in the back of my head for some time now.  Part of me was excited, to think that my old “creativity” was coming back to me, and I was eager to write down the words that formed and flowed out of my mind.  But part of me was afraid.  Afraid to let out the beast, so to speak.  I wasn’t sure if I was ready, or even willing, to release this hovering ghost that has long been haunting my mind.  There was too much connected to it, too much to think about, to admit, too much to face.  It’s almost like facing my demons, or facing my fears.

In the end, I only got out two or three stanzas.  But I have the basic idea for the entire poem in my head.  It’s a matter of if and when I want to finish it.

I guess we’ll see how this all turns out.

smiling at the past

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships.  Not so much the lovey-dovey boy-and-girl relationships, but general relationships….in the basic definition of the word.  I’ve had similar conversations with multiple people regarding relationships…regrets over relationships no longer being what they once were, disappointment thinking they are the only one initiating and making attempts to reach out and care, and not having those sentiments reciprocated.

I’ve had my share of broken friendships, faded relationships, friends that have grown apart.  There were so many people who meant so much to me, that by some reason or another, whether a selfish mistake on my part, or unavoidable circumstances, or simply neglect, we drifted apart.

I used to get really sad when I thought about these relationships.  Regretting the mistakes I’ve made, wishing things had ended up differently.  Seriously, I am not just talking about boys.  I think most of my regrets over broken friendships are with girls.  But anyways.  There are people who I once called best friends.  People I used to spill my soul to, and who would spill theirs to me as well.  People I once trusted with so much.  People who once trusted me with so much.  And I would be so filled with regret and guilt knowing that it was my fault that some of these trusts had broken.  Sometimes there is no “falling out.”  Sometimes people just drift apart.  Sometimes you just lose touch.  So many people have come into my life, and so many have left.

I guess the reason for all this thinking is because I recently talked with someone I haven’t spoken with in some time.  That one person who knew just about everything there is to know about you, who knew all your flaws, your sins, your deepest secrets and regrets…and despite all they knew about you, still loved you fiercely and cared for you deeply.  I remember how sad I was when I started realizing the drift.  It wasn’t due to any fight, there wasn’t a broken friendship.  It was just…circumstances.  We were at different points in our lives, heading in different directions.  But for me, I felt like this treasured relationship of mine was just slipping through my fingers like sand.  I remember grasping.  Grasping at wisps and whispers.  Trying to maintain.  Trying to salvage.  Reconstruct.  Feeling sad that after some point, we didn’t talk the way we used to.  Or as often.  The responses were different.  This was the one relationship I felt saddest about when I thought about it, how wonderful it used to be, and what it isn’t now.  I would remember all the good memories, sweet moments from the past….and find myself in great sorrow, because I found myself just…wishing.  Wishing that things could have somehow been different.  Better.  Wishing that I still had this person in my life as closely as I did before, in the past.

But now I see things differently.  I’m no longer sad or regretful over lost and broken relationships.  I’ve come to accept that people come and go.  That people enter your life for a reason, and that they also leave your life for a reason.  I’ve come to a point where I will think back and reminisce over those same sweet memories, and instead of making me sad, those thoughts will bring a smile to my face.  I’m thankful for every single relationship in my life.  I know that no matter where I am with these people at this point, whether we’re still friends, whether we don’t talk very often, whether we’re no longer in contact or on speaking terms (it’s mostly boys that fall under this category…haha!), or whether I can still depend on them to be there when I need them even if we don’t talk as much (as with the relationship mentioned above), I know I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for them.  I tried to make that last line as non-cheesy as possible, but I think I failed.

My point is, I’m learning the importance of letting things go.  Of letting people go.  To just be thankful that they were in your life, however short that time might have been.  To just cherish the time you had with them, to be grateful for whatever they gave you or taught you while they were with you.  Be glad, be thankful.  And then let them go.

If you’re someone who tends to be on the emo side (like me), it’s really difficult to let anything go.  You live in the past and are filled with regret and sadness.  But I’m finding it really liberating to let go of the past.

Proverbs 31 describes the traits of the woman we should strive to be.  One of these traits is to be someone who “smiles at the future.”  No arguments there.  But I think it’s equally wise and equally important to be a woman (or man) who also smiles at the past.

love on the locks

This is one of my favorite photos that I’ve taken for my photo class so far.  This was taken on the arched walkway alongside the river (to the left of the arches is the river).  At first, I just took the picture without knowing what it signified, just because I thought it looked cool and interesting.  Later, when I showed it at the critique, I learned that this is something couples do to declare their love.  They take a lock, write their names on it, lock it here, then throw the key in the river together.  I’ve decided that if/when I get engaged….I’d want to come back and do this.  =P

I have a TON more pictures…from Rome, Pitti Palace/Boboli Gardens, from the top of the Duomo (after climbing more than 400 steps!!!).  I will try to upload those soon!

Only 3 more days in Italy!

friends in venice

Sorry all.  I haven’t been writing as many updates as I’d planned.  But life here has been uneventful in an eventful kind of way.  That doesn’t make sense, huh?  Things have been busy, though there’s somewhat of a set schedule.  Class is from 10am-3pm (roughly).  People usually trickle out of class at various times, sometimes even close to 5pm, and wander around or head straight back to the apartments.  Florentine streets are full of carts and stands selling leather bags, wallets, clothing, jewelery, hats, Italian trinkets, etc.  Last week, Hannah and Jeremiah were in Florence, so after class, I would go hang out with them.  Lots of walking around and exploring, Jer and I shot people (with cameras, not guns!), lots of eating dinners, and lots and LOTS of good gelato!  Then when the weekend came, the 3 of us headed off the Venice!  Beauuutiful city, with all the rivers and canals.  We took some good advice and stayed away from most of the touristy areas, and purposely got lost around the back streets.  So lovely.

Hannah and Jer are extremely happy to be in Venezia!

Jeremiah found a creepy friend

And then he pretended he was Spiderman

Look what we found.  Mr. Vampire was excited.

Vampire got hungry.  Sorry

The next day we went to Murano, a small island just off the coast of Venice famous for their glassblowing.  Saw a lot of BEAUTIFUL creations.  Very tempted into buying very pretty glass jewelry, but refrained.  These people were trying to rip off some tourists as soon as we got off the “waterbus.”  They led us to this glass factory and tried to make us pay to see a glassblowing demonstration, even though according to our research, they’re usually free!  We got out of there and walked a little more, and sure enough, found a free demonstration.

He made a long vase with a round bottom, and a horse.  So amazing how he shaped the heads, arms, and legs with such simple movements.

Venice was really beautiful, with all the water surrounding it.  Our second day there was our “water/boat day.”  We went around Venice/Murano via the vaporetto, or water bus, because it was considerably more affordable than a gondola ride, which can be around 80~100 euros…about $100+.  So pretty, Hannah started dancing along the water.

I had a BLAST with these two, and I’m so glad they came to visit me/travel on their own.  =P  As much as I love the other students in this program, there’s nothing like the comfort between friends of many years…or that of a sister/roommate for 6ish years!  But now they are gone, traveling through Rome, while I am back at my Florence apartment slaving away editing photos that I mostly hate.  I am learning that photography is so much different than painting/drawing…and its harder than I thought!  This weekend I’ll also be going to Rome (though by then, Hannah and Jer will be back in the States), with a group of people from the program.  We’re taking a day trip, so it’ll be pretty packed!

That’s all for now…sorry for the lack of picture uploading.  Internet makes it slow for me to upload photos, but on top of that, I’ve been pretty busy trying to keep up with this class.  I’m also already starting to get sick of pizza and pasta.  The first thing I’m eating after I get back is either soondubu or pho.  Some sort of spicy, soupy jjigae.  One of the girls I live with made us Indian food….homecooked with crazy spices…it was SO delicious.  I was the happiest I ever was in DAYS!

Okay…that’s all for now.  Ciao!

pictures from florence

As promised, here are some pictures:

This is my lovely apartment.  Those are our lovely windows.  My bed in the corner, my desk, my roommate’s desk.  Lovely, no?

This is the view when I look out my window.

This is my street when I look left.

Florentine streets.

Florence from the bridge

That’s all I have time for tonight.  It’s 2:30am here, and I’m waking up early to go to the beach tomorrow.  Ciao!

greetings from florence!

Hello American friends!

I’m sitting in my ridiculously cute apartment in Florence, Italy.  I’m on the 4th floor, with windows that overlook the cobblestone streets.  You know those windows in “Beauty and the Beast”?  The ones with the shutters that open out?  We have those kinds of windows with green shutters.  Our “suite” has 2 rooms with 2 beds each (4 beds/people total), one bathroom, and one kitchen.  My new friend who lives downstairs has a terrace/balcony outside.  SO PRETTY.

I’d love to show you pictures of this picturesque place that I’ll be calling home for the next 3 weeks…but it’s midnight here, I am jetlagged, and running on an hour or 2 of sleep in the past 2 days.  Somewhere between Salt Lake City and Paris, I think I lost a day.  But I promise you pictures soon!

Took a flight from LAX to Salt Lake City to Paris to Florence.  Was kind of nervous traveling in Europe for the first time, especially alone!  But I got by!  Think I got a little jipped when exchanging dollars to euros…airport jacked up the rates I think….but nothing I can do about that now.

I ALREADY LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT MY STUDY ABROAD PROGRAM!
And classes haven’t even started yet!  Haha, maybe I shouldn’t speak so soon…but not only do I love our apartment, I love the people here as well!  The first girl I met is from the Bay Area, but has been living in Paris for almost a year.  She and I walked around the streets and got our first taste of gelato!  Then we came back and met the other 2 girls in my “suite”: an older Indian lady, married, with a little daughter, and another girl from New York.  Around 8pm, all the students and the instructors went to eat dinner together at cute family-owned restaurant not too far away.  Good food, good conversation!  I absolutely LOVE our photography instructor and his wife!  They’ve been married 29 years, and they are both such friendly, good-natured, funny, wonderful people.  And they are the cutest couple ever.  Like I said….classes haven’t even started yet and I already adore my instructor, his wife, and my classmates!

Hannah and Jeremiah are going to come up from Rome/Sorrento to visit me on Monday, and on Friday the 3 of us are going to Venice for the weekend.  One of the girls here mentioned making a day trip to Pisa & the beach on Sunday…hoping that happens!

Tomorrow (Saturday) we will be taking a “walking tour” of Florence, getting oriented with the area and all its busy streets.  Will need to wake up bright and early for that…and since I’m jetlagged and lacking sleep….goodnight!

P.S. Gchat/Skype/video chat me! 

disobedient daydreamer

I went to bed an hour ago, but for some reason, I just can’t seem to fall asleep, despite my extreme tiredness.  I don’t know if it’s because the air in my room is stuffy and stale (I am currently sitting in bed with the window & door open to circulate the air), or because my caffeine intake this week has been higher than usual, or because, for some reason, my brain just won’t shut off.  So I’m going to blog and get some of my thoughts out, and hopefully this will help me go to sleep…especially since I have work tomorrow.

What’s been on my mind is the concept of daydreaming.  I’ve long considered myself a daydreamer, and I do it…a lot.  When I daydream, it’s like I’m imagining scenarios in my head.  Like “what if my life were like this?”  Or imagining, “what if my future turned out like this?”  Or “what if this were to happen?”  It’s like I’m writing a fictional story in my head.  It doesn’t really sound harmful, much less sinful.  I mean, as long as I’m not daydreaming about…killing someone….or having lustful thoughts…then there’s no harm in what goes on in my head, right?

I’m beginning to realize that’s not the case.  It doesn’t seem like I’m sinning because I’m not “doing” anything wrong.  But it’s so easy to sin in your thought life.  And what’s scary about it is that there’s no accountability–no one can read your mind.

So what is it that I have found so wrong with daydreaming?  Well for one thing, I am not living in reality.  Colossians 3:2 tells us to “Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth.”  I feel like my mind is not set on things above…but it’s not really set on earth either.  It’s like I’ve set my mind on…fantasyland.  But I guess since it says “things” of the earth, generally my daydreaming does involve “things” of the earth.  Wordly desires achieved through my imagination.  And I guess it also shows that I’m not content with the way my life already is, if I keep dreaming up different scenarios in my head.

But I think the worst thing is that my daydreams have been pulling my heart away from the Lord.  For instance, if I’m dreaming about a certain future lifestyle, my desire becomes drawn to that rather than to God.  And (this is going to be so embarrassing for me to admit) if I happen to be “writing” a romantic novel in my head and there’s a boy involved (not necessarily specific boys, just FYI), then my heart REALLY gets drawn away from God while I’m entertaining romantic thoughts.  And I think, in this sense, my daydreaming has become sinful, and if I continue to indulge in it, I am being disobedient.

A sister once shared with me a way to help control your thought life.  When she starts to think about something, she’ll run that thought by the list of traits in Philippians 4:8 — “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”  Checking to see if what you’re thinking about fits the bill.  “Is this true?”  “Is this honorable?”  “Is this just?”…and so on.  Usually, with daydreaming, I can just stop myself at “Is this true,” because it probably isn’t.

Maybe the reason I can’t fall asleep is that I’m getting frustrated with how many times I’ve already caught myself starting to zone out and daydream even just today.  How it’s become something so ingrained in my mind…something that’s beginning to happen naturally.  I have to fight to keep my mind out of fantasyland.  I see even more now how important it is to memorize Scripture.  I tried to recite Philippians 4:8 to battle the daydreaming, but I forgot the order of the words.  “Whatever is true…uhh..I know lovely is in there somewhere…and pure, I think…uh oh.”

BUT!  I need to remind myself not to be discouraged, and not to lose hope.  This mind battle is definitely difficult, but I am thankful that the Lord has revealed this sinful hindrance to me, and that He is strengthening me to combat it.  Now that I am aware of this problem, I can strive to do something about it.

And now a wave of terrible exhaustion has hit me quite suddenly.  I hope this means I can fall asleep now.  Goodnight world.

a non-marriage post

Due to the many who have been accusing me of indeed being “marriage-crazy,” I felt that a non-marriage related post was in order.

In all seriousness, this post has been mulling over in my head for a while now, leaving me restless and unsettled for the past few days.

I feel like I need to apologize for my behavior as of late, and to explain why I’ve been the way I’ve been.

Most people probably have no idea what I’m talking about.  Most probably didn’t notice any change in my attitude or demeanor.  I’d like to think that I faked it pretty well.  I think only those who were closest to me worried over my sudden withdrawn-ness  (Yes, now I am making up words).  Somewhere along the way, I realized I was trying to do the very thing that C.S. Lewis warned against.  I was trying to make my heart unbreakable.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

I think the scariest part of this experience was knowing this quote…and not being phased at all.  Of reading this quote, identifying Lewis’ intended rebuke of selfishness, of seeing his portrayal of a dead heart, and thinking, “I don’t care, this selfish state sounds good, this unfeeling heart is ideal, full speed ahead.”  I locked everyone out, I stopped meeting up with people, stopped sharing my heart with my housemates, etc.  I had this mentality of “don’t look, don’t stop to think, just drive and keep driving.”

First semester was honestly one giant blur.  I don’t remember anything at all, save a few precious moments here and there.  I just remember watching a lot of NCIS, episode after episode, trying to fill my mind with nothingness, trying to numb it to the point of being unable to think about anything else.  And for the times I couldn’t occupy the brain-that-never-stops-thinking with endless TV shows, I tried to occupy with work and busyness.  Busy hands = busy mind, which was exactly what I wanted.  I didn’t want to let myself think about certain things.

During this time, my journal was left unnaturally empty and unfilled.  With nothing but the soft chirp of crickets across the rustling grass of its pages.  There was this double-edged fear that kept me from writing my thoughts and feelings down on paper.  One part of me was too afraid to set my pen on paper; afraid that once the ink began to flow, my emotions would violently explode, like a gunshot sending crimson blood splattering across the page.  The other part of me would grow heavy with weariness long before my pen neared the paper, weighted down with the thought of how much there was to write, if indeed I did start writing.  Hence, I did not write at all.  Instead I tried to keep everything blocked in, like a hastily-placed cork in a shaken-up bottle of champagne.  I did not notice the cork slowly slipping with the pressure building up inside.  The cork did explode, by the way, very unexpectedly in the face of my poor, unsuspecting housemate over a bowl of pho…but that’s a different story.

This past class trip to Tahoe was a (pleasantly) rude awakening for me.  I felt like I’d just woken up from a long vegetative state.  Like I’d just opened my eyes for the first time in a while, and struggled to adjust to the sudden brightness of my surroundings.  The surroundings that have always been there, but I’d failed to notice in my blind state.  I looked around and thought, “Who ARE these people??  Why do I feel like I’m JUST noticing them, or JUST getting to know them??  Why have I not been a part of their lives??”  I felt like a vegetable locked in autopilot who suddenly woke up in a strange and wonderful place with (very) strange and wonderful people.

I’m a little sad that it took so long for me to “wake up.”  That only now, more than halfway into second semester do I feel that my barricade of fake smiles and forced laughter have broken down in light of genuine joy and happiness.  I’d like to think that I maintained my fragile facade well; that I gave an impeccable performance to an unsuspecting audience.  But I’m thankful that this ugly facade has cracked to reveal the truth, difficult as that has been.  At some point, everyone has to face their demons, and better late than never.

For lack of any better way to end this awkward and difficult-to-write-because-it’s-too-honest-for-comfort-but-I-felt-it-neccessary blog post, I guess it’s safe to say that there’s still a lot more “emo” left in this “former emo kid” than I expected.  =P