Wish List . . .

I'm lusting after this library (or bookstore, not sure). I wish I could spend some time spoiling my inner book worm by exploring all the floors and shelves.

First day of a new season . . .

Yay, it's officially Winter! I love the moody-colored skies, bright sunshine, and the warm and fuzzy clothes needed to stay alive in the chill XD

Had three finals today, leaving me with a few lab reports to do before the semester comes to an end. I'm grateful for the month-long break.

That Warm and Fuzzy Feeling . . .

Looking out my living room window, I realize that sociopaths probably decorate their houses for Christmas, too. The holidays definitely have a way of connecting people together.

Happy Merry Holidays!

Fighting Off the Cold . . .

Sometimes the only comfort we can get are the quiet rumbling of water boiling in the tea kettle and the sweet anticipation of a warm cup held in hands that are cold for too many reasons.

Every day happenings . . .

I stood in my kitchen today. Made myself take the time out to just be there, to soak up the scent of onions and spices cooking in the pot on the stove. To absorb into my body, my mind, my soul, what I take for granted. It was an attempt to fortify in my memory the scent that I have grown to love and one that represents my dad's cooking, thus a part of him. An attempt to not forget, while knowing it is inevitable. And realizing that the only moment I truly have, is now. The bittersweet feeling rears its ugly head once again.

Thinking outside the garden . . .

"What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Slipping Over the Edge . . .

Summer Dream . . .

"Dream," by Priscilla Ahn, has a special place in my heart. It reminds me of moments in my childhood and of summer: entire days spent outside in the sunshine, learning and talking about life with friends, climbing trees, riding bikes, playing games, running around and chasing each other just for the feeling of it in our lungs and muscles, laughing until my stomach hurt, laughing until I forgot why I was laughing in the first place, dreaming dreams of tomorrow and the far off future, feeling that if not everything a lot was possible.

I still have the urge to 'go play' and basically do all of the above. However, obviously because I'm older, I have responsibilities and needs that take priority. Plus, I doubt that people would view a 21 year-old girl-woman-hybrid running around the park or climbing trees (esp. by herself) as someone just 'having a good time' XD

And so, the combination of the lyrics and the singer's voice quiet me, inside out, leaving me with the bittersweet flavor of nostalgia. Because my childhood has passed (though the lessons learned never get old) and the summer season loses its allure of freedom and time-to-do-nothing-on-purpose every year, to be replaced with the need to be 'productive' and gain experience.

Sometimes all the scheduling and accruing said experience takes away from just living. I know it's not like that for everyone everywhere, but it is for me right now and has been for a while. But I also know it's simply a part of my life (and that of most of my peers) at this stage; I need experience in order to progress to what I want/need to do, even if it's not fulfilling at the moment.

The post seems to have veered off topic, but I don't think by much. The song reminds me of the disparity I feel between preserving my inner child, and nurturing and learning about the individual I want to be.

Finding Love . . .

'Love Lost'-- The Temper Trap


I love it when a band sounds amazing live. That's when they really become musicians and artists for me, rather than simply performers, one-hit wonders, or stars.

In the morning, when you wake . . .

I'm really disappointed I won't be able to see her play live next week.

Dreaming during the day . . .

I should really stop taking naps in the middle of the day without air-conditioning on . . . I end up having crazy I-ate-spicy-food-before-sleeping-and-now-heartburn-is-affecting-my-subconscious dreams. I woke up feeling quiet and solemn, rather than my usual groggy annoyance for being awake in the first place. I don't remember anything from the dreams I had to justify the overshadowing feeling (the most prominent dream more like a play out of a horror movie which was actually entertaining--I'm weird like that). The feeling made me think about my faith and then moved onto the people in my life who I wish had more of an active role in it. It was strange to mourn the loss and erosion of relationships with the living. To me it's more terrible, and yet at the same time less, than grieving the dead. I don't know what to make of it, or why the emotion and the subsequent "reflection" came on so out of the blue, but then again, why would I expect or need a prelude to something like this anyway? It was just odd and interesting to think about something I hadn't in a while so unexpectedly.

On a side note, I googled myself out of curiosity after reading an article about how information is compiled online based on what we put up on the Internet, etc. (I actually didn't finish the article because I went to look my info up right after the suggestion to do so, thus getting distracted. What came up was an article I wrote for my college newspaper, and my association to a teen-oriented news magazine I worked with during a summer in high school. It reminded me how much I missed the experience of writing: getting to know the topic at hand, speaking with varying people and learning their opinions, and creating something to share with other people. This better motivate me to write more articles more often.
Here's hoping.

"Who Wants to Know . . .

. . . all that is gold, is rusted . . ."






Hauntingly beautiful. Seriously addictive.

<3

Floating . . .

(Some random Fall at Cunningham Park)

My experiences make me feel old (neither a good nor a bad thing) . . . but my lack of determination, commitment, and general movement toward personal growth make me feel naive and immature.

I'm not drowning, but I'm not swimming either. I simply float.
. . . I don't know how long that can last.

Fortress of Solitude got jack . . .

. . . on this.

If I was Batman, this would be my bat-cave.

(Image from http://frommoontomoon.blogspot.com/2010/02/sitting-room.html)

Powder . . .

For some reason, I was surprised that a good snow storm still filled me with glee--the prospect of a snow day, snowball fights, and the exhaustion that comes from playing outside all day reminded me of what I guess I'd forgotten.

Shame on me.

Though I was hoping for a winter miracle to provide a double snow-day, the lovely and sparkling morning made me not care that it didn't.

*