Monotonous.

Lately I've been feeling very... trapped in my own body. Like everyday that's passing is just me trying to get through it. I feel like an android almost. I can't bring myself to be happy with anyone, and I can't be pleased with myself either. I feel like I have to constantly better myself, which I know everyone strives to do. However, I feel like it's pressured upon me, like I can't do it in my own time. I feel like I'm half doing everything. Like it's only one part of many that I'm accomplishing. Very monotonous of me. I don't like it. I'm trying to break free.

One Year Ago Today

Awkward “Good mornings” and “Hellos” filled the crisp, cold air as we walked through the path of the cemetery. My family knew our surroundings too well, for it was not the first time we lost someone. As time drew near, the weather changed into a bright sunny day; I could hear the birds singly happily as they flew above. It was the perfect weather to go to the beach, to the park, to be outside enjoying the fresh air. It wasn’t the kind of weather that I would expect to attend a funeral, to witness the last moments above ground, the burial of my beloved grandmother. The skies may have been blue, with the sun sharing its warmth, but the feeling was despair, dissolving of the heart, and grief. Needless to say, it was a hard time for my family. We had already lost our grandfather, the icon which kept our family in order, and now his wife, with her sewing that kept our family together – both gone. As the ceremony began, tears began to fall, which seemed like an endless shower of rain down my kin’s faces. Salty tears were swept away from my cousin’s face, as he thought, “Be strong; you’re a man,” but in reality, he had no control over the overbearing hurt which consumed him instantly. The sight of the men’s red eyes and women’s destroyed mascara filled the depths of my heart with emptiness of sorrow.
I could smell the powerful scent of dirt, in which would cover the body of the woman I played with in the rose garden, the woman I sat with in prayer on late Saturday evening services, the woman who gave birth to my mother who had given birth to me. I gripped my black, silky dress in anger, for I felt it was unfair that someone with such faith in the world, in humanity, could be taken away from me so easily, in a matter of seconds. I tasted the guilt in the depths of my throat, the guilt in which is still held over me, the guilt of not being able to be with her in her last moments. The horrible aftertaste of that guilt still remains in my mouth today. The uncontrollable sobbing of my relatives was contagious, for in a few seconds after I heard them, I too began to cry. I made my way to the front of the hearse, to sing a song sent to me from a concerned friend the day of my grandma’s passing. I sang that song horribly, a song that ironically was titled “Well Done”, but was not well done by me at all, due to unmanageable tears. I heard the off-key notes I hit as I sang that song, but I had no care for it. All that mattered at that moment was my hope that somewhere, wherever my grandmother was, she heard me that she would forgive me of my trespasses.
I returned to my cousins’ side afterwards; we all stood side by side, so close that we could all feel the goose bumps of the persons we were standing next to. The final moments of an ascended coffin were all that I could see then. Then as they lowered the coffin, I could hear the beating of my heart. The beating was so loud; it was as if a stethoscope was hooked up to speakers, for I felt that everybody in the cemetery could hear it. Before I knew it, I could no longer see her coffin; there was no longer any trace of her body left in my sight. I took in a breath of air and smelled the sunshine over the graves of my dearly loved grandparents. The coffin which lay in my sight minutes ago were now covered with dirt, and over that dirt, sun yellow daises that she loved. There and then I realized that it is certain…

Losing someone you love should get easier everyday because although it is one day further from that last time you saw them, it is also one day closer to the next time you’ll see them.....

Greater Plan

Things like this come quicker than you know. A life can be taken away in a heartbeat, literally. You could have been some big time musician or you could have been just some kid who played football in high school. Some people are deprived of the chance to live out the rest of their lives. Pepole say "He was too young" or "It was his time" But time has nothing to do with it. God has a greater plan. Let this be a lesson-no, more than a lesson-may this be a reminder to everyone. Life is short; what you do with it can will make it longer and worth your while. Never fail to say what is needed to say nor should you wait to do something that is of importance. Don't take things for granted. Don't forget to say "I love you" to the people who mean the most to you. It could be the last thing they remember you by.

Kevin Telles, heaven welcomes you with the biggest of arms. May angels lead you in. You shall not be wept over, but remembered in great ways.

Nonresponsive

Sometimes people don't listen to me. It's like they just hear me. It's in one ear and out the other. I just wish they would take my advice because I actually know the shit I'm talking about. It just frustrates me when they set themselves up to get hurt, heed my warning. It's like a nonresponsive wake up call. Like I'm trying to show them the side which they don't see, and they're blind to it. Maybe it's because they don't have enough clarity to actually realize it.


Anyway, SCHOOL! It's been okay for the first two days. Whenever I get home, I feel like I need a ten hour nap. Jeeeez I'm really tired. Okay so, next week (9/17) is my grandma's one year death anniversary. On her deathdate, I'll post up the Autobiographical whatever essay that I turned it and got an award from school. Umm, next saturday I have my cousin's wedding. It's a half white one! &The reception is going to be at a Hotel. How swanky! Cute white boys? Hahaha, no.

Truth Is

I'm afraid to love. I'm afraid to go through the "typical Asian love". I don't want to be blinded by what I think is love, get married, have children, face all these differences, then end up like my parents. I don't want to fall in love with the wrong person. I want real romantic love. Not the kind of love that my parents have. Sure, they love each other, but not in the way that a marriage should contain love. Sometimes I think, Asians just aren't meant to love. Arranged marriages go way back in our culture. You think you love them...? Or is it a forced love? I don't want to get married and grow apart. I don't want to have to sit in my room, thinking about what's on my hustband's mind, wonder where he's at, wonder if he still "loves" me. I don't want to have to cry my eyes out because I picked the wrong person for love. I don't want to have to blame love for decieving my heart. I know marriages will face disappointment, anger, arguments, fights, crying, pain... I know all of that is unavoidable. I just don't want to have to grow old and feel like we're so far apart we have to sleep in separate rooms and live different lives. I wish I could feel self secured enough to take a chance at love, but I can't. I just hope... I don't fall in what I think is love. I hope that any guy that thinks he's fallen for me realize that I can't be loved. I hope he falls out of love.

Immensely Always

There is no one else for me.






























None but Jesus.

Maybe Not Forever

Are friends really forever? Is anything really forever? I mean... forever is such a long time. I don't get how anything could last "forever". Who created forever? I guess my faith is slipping. Faith in God, faith in humanity, faith in myself. But if forever really did exist, I know it's something I don't deserve. Forevers really don't work out for me.

How about, for always?