I am going to go places.

Just watch me.

I could rile myself up a storm and drown in a thousand what-could-have-been’s, replaying the same memories over and over. But the truth of the matter is, I can’t bring myself up to do it. I can’t hate the people who hate me. At the end of the day, I come home to this empty house knowing who I am, who loves me and who I love. And that, is a good enough reason to put my feelings at risk— to keep living the way I do.

Could you wake up another person and pretend that part of you never lived? I don’t think I could. I wouldn’t dream of looking in the mirror, if I were you. All you would see in that reflection is the ghost of the person you once were. The person you slaughtered with your murderous thoughts.

What breaks my heart more than anything else in the world is seeing the people who I love dearly, hurting inside and trying to keep it hidden. I can recognize the look resonating from their eyes and it shoots a pang deep into my heart. Nothing is worse than watching a heart shatter and not being able to do a single thing about it. Even if I’m desperately trying to catch the broken pieces and cutting my hands in the process.

I feel like my heart has been ripped from its hinges and now hangs loosely, swaying recklessly to and fro. I mustered all the courage I had. Really, I did. I acted out on a spontaneous whim, leaving the most silliest of sentences on your wall. You don't understand how much I riled myself up in thinking of things to say to you. I spent weeks lying in bed, my thoughts keeping me from sleeping and trying to string up a sentence that would throw things into action. And I did it. I left a comment on your wall and for a day you went without facebook. I figured that maybe you were just busy. The next day, you were commenting other people, completely disregarding my comment. Do you know how much that comment is worth? Tedious specks of time that comprised these past few months I was wrapping my head around you. And how easily it was disregarded! I don't know whether or not to laugh or weep. To giggle or shake my head. It is now apparent to me that perhaps you have moved on.

And that perhaps, I should, too, but right now I wish my heart would stop leaking tears. It's hard to focus through dewy eyes.

The signs and the pull of nature were bringing us together. No moment was a mere coincedence. Every opportunity was handed to us and it was left for us to seize. Discovering the fact that all these years you have lived down the street from me was a serendipitous collision of destinies. For seventeen years we’ve walked down the same cement tops, looking at the same trees and the sway of branches above our heads. I cannot evade the fact that the moments were there. Everything was happening naturally. Looking back on it all, I cannot blame time and nature for the way things turned out for the both of us. It was you. You never seized the moment. Not because you did not love me, but because you were afraid to. Now, whenever I walk down the street we live on and pass your house, I wonder if you know that you’re just a block away from completing destiny.

In one minute it is going to be your birthday. I feel a little bit odd that I’m eight months older than you are. It may not be a huge gap in age, but it feels like a long distance from where we both stand. Fate has a funny way of separating our humanly desires. We both long for the same thing and yet this distance that stretches between us each passing day, keeps getting pulling up apart. We’re like two parallel lines, extending ourselves into infinity but never being able to touch or meet… Happy birthday. As a present, you can keep the memories I shared with you closed up in a neatly wrapped box.

It was my first assignment as a reporter for the paper and I was eager to sink my teeth into my story. I contacted the president of the Junior class and scheduled an interview with her at the school library. I walked into the video room with an air of confidence, carrying around a tape recorder to get the whole story in its entirety. I was doing well, with my chin up and my shoulders back, and I was dressed stylishly fit to sophistication. The tape was rolling and everything was going well.

Coming through the threshold of the doorway, you walked in with the same air of confidence and your face had a goofy grin imprinted on it. You looked pleasantly surprised to see your friend talking to someone completely new and the rush of excitement on your face was not hard to mistake. Instantly, the room was buzzing with a different kind of energy as you asked your friend who the girl with the tape recorder was. Instead of her answering, I introduced myself. You smiled. I reciprocated. You asked if I could interview you. I told you that you weren’t remarkable enough. There was a pause. Your eyes stared into mine as we sent hidden messages in their lucid wake. Your friend cleared her throat and told you to get out. You laughed and smiled at me before backing out of the room. Your friend cast me a knowing look and shook her head. She pointed at the tape recorder. It was still recording.

I found myself listening to the tape today as I was cleaning my room. Rather than listening to Animal Collective, I listened to the crackling of sound as it circles round the tape. I listened to your voice and knew when you were smiling. When you were grinning.

And then the pause.

I did not realize at the time just how long that pause was. To me it seemed like only a split second because every moment spent with you went by quickly, but after hearing it all and listening to how we met and the images rolling like film in my mind, I knew how long that pause was. I looked down at the tape recorder.

Three minutes.

That’s how long we were staring at each other and not saying a word.

In those three minutes, I knew that the feeling was mutual and I swear we loved.

It has been a while and though I cannot see you, you never disappeared from my heart. The excitement, the rush that used to spread throughout my body may have died away, but there is a feeling that lies in the deepest regions of my heart. The kind of feeling that brings an ache of melancholy and comfort. The kind of feeling that goes beyond the beginnings of infatuation and past the walls of something more…

June 16

Everything reminds me of you these days. No matter how much I attempt to chase thoughts of you out of my mind, your presence is prominent. The slight breeze reminds me of the soft pads of your fingertips trailing across my porcelain face. Rays of sunlight cascade from the skies and remind me of your warmth. I have never taken account of these things before. The wind was just the wind. The sun was just the sun. Oddly enough, I never took account of you when I had the chance. I noticed a little too late, but the thought of you makes my mind weep with regret because now I stand in awe of these simple, seemingly insignificant wonders.

June 13

It’s strange. I’ve always been one who values the use of words, but why am I at loss for them around men I find attractive? I’m just this awkward mess that smiles and nods and replies with one word answers. I think I need to socialize more often. I’ve been an anti-social hermit for weeks now.

June 10

Why can’t you disappear from my mind? Each train of thought that comes from my mind keeps circling round and round, and I end up at a perpetual dead end.

June 7

I guarded my heart in the well of my chest, encased in the safety of my rib cage. For years I pushed away the silly notions of my emotional dependancy, thinking love in youth was just a reckless cause enough to destroy all sensibility and good judgement. One day, I left my heart resting on a table and looked away. When I looked back it was stolen and rested in the hands of a stranger. Now I wish could retrieve my heart back because I am emotionally bound to the person who holds it. And, my God, I wish it weren’t so. I am not one to be held in captivity.

June 6

Time is unkind to those who are weary of it. To those who value every speck of an hour, use it up to its full capacity and pray to the Father of Time for some more. There are never enough minutes for those who relish in the moment. Then it’s awfully kind to those who remain idle and stagnant. It spreads itself out through space and goes by slowly, with tiny tiptoes around the clock. And then there is me, who is idle and stagnant in her ways, yet wants to devour every minute of the day trying to muster up the courage to live. The days go by slowly and suddenly the week is over before the next day is. I keep waiting for opportunities to miraculously transpire but time is running out. It’s time to manage whatever is left of my days and make my feelings known to him.

June 5

Prom is not what American movies make it out to be. They tend to overglamourize the idea of dressing up for one night. Prom wasn’t a complete disappointment, but it isn’t that extraordinary either. I had a great time.

June 4

I will be dancing with my dreams on a golden floor, promenading away the last of my high school career. Destiny will be courting my every step towards the next chapter of my life. I’ll post some pictures later. Maybe.

June 3

I get so lost in the search for truth that I’ve found lies hidden between the cracks in the road. I end up winding my head up with endless predicaments.

May 31

I refuse to see you, but why does your face keep visiting my thoughts? Your voice is the last sound I want to hear, but why does it sound like gentle music that goes through one ear and straight to my heart? My senses crave for you. Every cell in my body sings for you. My head is reeling memories of you and each of them are so vivid and so captivating, they seem tangible enough to touch. And when I reach out, I touch nothing and that’s when my thoughts console the emptiness that settles in.

May 27

I no longer can keep up with this dance. My legs are worn out from trying to move accordingly to your rhythm. I have been trying to keep up with you, appearing graceful with every maneuver you make, but I’m a walking calamity. A beautiful and reckless mess that is no longer interested in dancing. I am a woman who dances to the beat of her own drum. To follow your lead would be an insult to myself.

May 26

Dear thoughts,

Why must you consume my mind with false hopes? My expectations hover over my head and then come crashing down to my feet. The only sound is the thud of my heart when it drops into the pit of my stomach.

May 26

Tonight is the night I will seize the moment with my shaky hands. I have to catch a dream before it flees within a passing second or else I’m in for a rude awakening.

May 25

I could feel your heated stare burning against my back as I tried to remain cool and collected with composure. Yet it’s my conscience that tames the wild manifestation of passion building up in my heart. I wish our inner beasts would take hold of our dispositions and reveal the true nature of our feelings.

May 25

And so you remembered my name. Your lips played with it as the sound rolled off your tongue and resounded in your mouth. It was such a lovely tune. I wish you could sing it to me but for now, I must wait for your next hello.

Photography isn’t something you just give up. It’s a habit embedded in your life. To give up means that it isn’t about the art or the memories. To give up means you’ve let trying to impress people get in the way of something that is so natural and pure. Don’t give up art. Don’t give a damn at all. Give up trying to people please. It will ruin you.

May 20

He’s been gone for half a day, but the minutes feel like specks of forever.

May 12

You are so difficult to read. I know people aren’t books and that I should be intrigued by the mystery behind your ambiguity, but it’s not fun when I have all the clues collected but no signs of the truth. Do you like me? Do you hate me? Why do you stare at me? Why do you choose stand beside me? Or notice the smallest details behind my own mystery? Shyness is the barrier that withholds me from solving this enigma. Now how can I break through to you?

May 11

I wish I could count the moments and piece them together in a patchwork of memories. Every second spent with you is a blur in which I try to replay over and over in my mind. I’m struggling against a swarm of emotions and I just want to get through to you.Why must infatuation get the best of me, when I have no recollection of your account?

May 9

Some say I can be as cold as ice or that my heart is made of stone. I may be a headstrong and stubborn woman when it comes to matters of dating. I don’t answer “yes” right away to whoever asks for a date. I may not fall easily for a man’s advances or melt from his flowery words. I may be skeptical and cynical when it comes to falling in love. In spite of all that I may or may not be, the thing I know for certain is that I am going to give it my all because love is all or nothing.

May 4

Expectations are predecessors of disasters. The more you build something up in your mind, the faster the walls will crumble down by the impact of reality.

I wish I could program my heart and turn my emotions on with a flick of a switch to love you, but the person ruling my heart has got a hold on me. Myself.

You are thousands of miles away, and with each word hanging up in the air, how can I make promises that will remain empty and broken because of distance? I can dream away the time, make up a thousand scenarios in my head of how things could be between us, but the truth is, I can’t live by dreams alone. I need something tangible. A dream that can be held in my hands.

The most frightening part is that I’m not sure if I can relinquish you so willingly.

A Lily Among Weeds Outtakes

I had a shoot with Kim today. Since we only had an hour and thirty minutes to shot, I got about twenty shots. Hopefully next time it won't feel so rushed.

Antique memories.

Out of the wild.

The wilderness days are over!

A few weeks ago I went on a date with N. It was awkward, or rather I think it was me who made things awkward. I've never been good with the whole "dating thing". I tend to make actions based on whims without a care in the world. I think I need to be mindful of that.

Now the big question I asked myself was: "Do I like N?"

The answer? "Maybe."

"Do I love him?"

The answer? "Not counting on it."

But then again, I'm a ruthless cynic when it comes to my own love life. I don't like to get in over my head and make up silly fantasies about love. Love is love.

Love has been depicted in literature, art, film and music from generation to generation. There are billions of songs in the world that speak of love. But out of the billion love songs, how many talk about the real thing? You will be surprised by the results.

I feel like people look forward to an exaggerated, movie love story. The kind that makes your toes curl and your stomach somersault with intense emotion. And while sometimes people get that movie love story, love never develops the way we hope. It just happens. In a small, brief, blinking moment. A moment that sometimes can be forgotten.

I'm not looking for much. I don't have high standards. I don't expect a love story that sweeps me off the ground and lifts me up to the clouds.

The only thing I expect is for it to be real. Natural. Memorable.

I know I'll fall madly in love with Mr.Whoever, but I will not expect so much from him. It will be natural as the course of time is.

I'm not saying I'm not romantic. I'm very much so romantic as the next girl, but I want to be real with myself.

The worse thing I could do is fool myself into loving someone who isn't worthy of my heart.

Into the Unknown

Change hangs in the air with promise in my seemingly dull life. As time stretches by the minute, my life is reaching for a cataclysmic breaking point that will send me plummeting forward to uncharted waters of my fate.

I'm scared. I'm scared silly. I have no idea where I'm going with my life and at this point I am directionless, but I can only hope to the skies that where my feet may take me, may I take each moment in stride.

I am ready to walk beyond, into the farthest regions of what the places I have already plundered. I can only aspire that whatever I do with my life that it will be a life well spent.

Dear God, I am going on a date.

Today is a monumental event in the history of my recently dull life. After two years of flying as a free spirit, I decided to start dating again. I'm apathetic about the whole matter, mainly because I said yes to this guy on a spontaneous whim after ceaseless replies of "No, I think I'm busy that day". I'm just so used to saying no all the time that saying yes is deathly frightening!

As frightened silly as I am, I think it will be good for me. I have become too cynical in the views of my own personal love life. It's not like don't think it exists. I believe in love. I just refuse to fall in love.

I know it sounds ridiculous.

I refuse to fall in love for many reasons. Part of me is afraid to give myself entirely up and the other part of me is afraid to give too much and get nothing in return. I hear about all these horror stories about lost loves and break-ups that it gives me heart palpitations just thinking about it!

It's inevitable. Not every relationship is going to work out. Nothing is set in stone and I'll always be teetering on edge. I will lose someone. Someone will lose me and that's the way it goes.

When it all comes down to this phobia, I need to get rid of it. I need to relinquish it so that I can open my heart up once again. I've placed a padlock on it for so long, that I'm afraid this is going to be something will stick with me for the rest of my life.

Which is why I am going on a date tonight, with a boy I like as a person. As for whether or not I like him romantically? That's questionable.

One thing I know for sure is, I refuse to lead this guy on. It's just not my thing. I am going to be upfront and straightforward with my intentions.

Right now, I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm looking for someone who will reopen the blockade to my cobwebbed heart.

Never be afraid to dream.

Be afraid of never achieving it.

I wake up every morning, my chocolate brown eyes dreaming wide open. As my vision focuses on the light seeping from between the blinds, I think about the person I aspire to be years from now. I dream of living in an apartment devoid of furniture with a French window overlooking the rolling sea. I imagine sitting on the wooden ledge, gazing longing out of its threshold and down at the swarm of people buzzing with vibrant life. I can feel the soft caress of the breeze against my pallid face, a relief from the intense wave of heat that came from the early day sun. I imagine myself with a guitar in hand, my fingers carelessly strumming the strings with promise tingling at their tips. I dream about painting all day until my arms are burning with lactic acid, and reading all night until my eyes close like the front cover of the book in my hands...

And that's it. That's where my dream is left open-ended. Nothing about it indicates who I want to be years from now or the occupation I will pursue. None of it has images of my lover lying in bed beside or me running out of the front door in a rush of panic.

The truth is, I don't know what I want to be or who I want to be with, but I do know that I aspire to be happy. To live in the unceremonious days of my youth. What do I know of who I should be? I can make up a thousand identities and end up being the dreamer, the actress and the romantic rolled up into one body.


I will be realistic with myself. I can get lost in my dreams. So lost that reality hurts when it hits you on the side of the head. But I also know that dreaming is nothing if no action is put into it.

I am going to be happy.

May my life be a serendipitous collision of events and destiny, and lead me to the apartment overlooking the sea.

Insomnia

I lay in bed, gazing into the cozy abyss as my thoughts travel from foreign end to foreign end. The deepest thoughts I lock away in the hidden parts of my mind, seep out from the crevices of my brain to taunt me and hinder me from achieving slumberous freedom. These thoughts are unkind and cut through the delicate facade I build to protect my sanity. Yet, uncovering these thoughts sends me plummeting into modesty and humility. I can fool anyone, but in the end the battle against myself has no victory because I cannot fool myself. I don't know if these are feelings of subconscious guilt for having not lived my life the way I dreamed... The unkind guilt for not being the best of who I can be.

Fallen

Sleepless nights of finger driven words,
have caved in on my sense of reality,
awakening me from the dream I imposed on myself.
In those waking hours,
I lie in bed reveling in the truth,
I have failed to acknowledge without arguing.
I have fallen for him.

I am small and the world is big.

I honestly hate featuring blogs about me. It seems like every time I start a new blog based on my life and my problems, it is so trivial compared to the problems at hand with the world. My problems are just a speck of dust swirling in the turbulent winds of social injustice amongst the nations.

If there is one thing I'd like to reveal about myself, it's that I try to enjoy the simplistic joys that my life has to offer me. I'm easily satisfied by the shining sun, a breath of fresh air and the knowledge that there are many opportunities for me to pick from. I don't like riling myself up over my own problems and I tend to forgive easily. I feel like there's no room in my heart for hatred and resentment towards those who have hurt me.

I tend to love easily. I love the sky. I love the smell of rain. I love the dewy grass. I even love the smelly vagrant wandering the street searching for his soul. I love the person who has back stabbed me or worse, stabbed me straight in my heart. I'm already in love with my soul mate who's out there somewhere searching for me (though destiny will be the one to bring us together).

I love and I guess that's my purpose in life. It gives my life some sort of meaning offer that unconditional kind of love to every person who passes my way. Though, of course, my love isn't overbearing or boastful (I don't go up to strangers and kiss them). It lies in the attempts to be kind and thoughtful of others.

I know I am small and that compared to other people I may not be special, but I know that the one thing that truly makes me special in this world and lifetime, is my heart. I am happily content to love and learn in my little corner of the universe that there is more to life than "me". It's about giving a piece of kindness from my heart to somewhat contribute in reshaping this hate-driven world.



And really, I have no idea where this post is going, but I suddenly was overcome with the urge to write what's been in my heart.