Sunday, January 30, 2011

wishful thinking.

Tonight, the skies are clear. Not a cloud in sight, you can see each individual star shining on its own. Some closer to others, but all make up a visually stunning canvas.  The day was long and you hurt from the day’s unwelcome events. Your eyes are still red and they burn from the tears you finally cried. But you breathe in deep; the cold winter’s air feels so good inside your lungs, in substitute for the cigarettes you keep at the bottom of your bag. You are on your last one—finally. And you say it is your last pack but deep down, you are not sure whether you are strong enough to truly let go. They are unhealthy and at times they make you sick yet you hang onto them because there is not much that leaves you breathless and wanting more. You have been immune to the heartbreaks and emotional turmoil you put yourself through. Those cigarettes you smoke are not nearly as damaging as your own thoughts.

You breathe in several more times, taking in the silence that accompanies the night. Your warm breath turns into white wisps, and they swirl upwards towards the stars. Oh, those stars are small and so precious. You wonder whether they do the same but look downwards, at all the human beings. And somehow, the thought of you and the stars looking at each other is comforting. Because at least you know you are not alone tonight.

her morning elegance.

She’s sitting there calmly, with a new playlist on repeat, steaming jasmine tea readily beside her. Picture this, in contrast with the morning.

He was in frustration, scrambling and determined to find it. It was happening for a while when she tried to break the tension by announcing that even she felt the stress. Misunderstood, he launched at her. He threw words of anger and blame. And she stood there incapable of comprehending the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. Tears of anger, fear, sadness fell; they amplified the truth and the guilt that had been residing within her. He spat shards of glass and it hurt her. He took her down with each point, making her feel insufficient, disabled, cruel. She felt helpless, useless.

And she cried.
Her breaths quickened, gasping for each breath. She shook uncontrollably as she stood there mortified of what had happened. She slowly made her way to an empty chair, each sob echoed through the tension. He was gone, but his words echoed within her head. Like a broken record player, his words kept running through her thoughts and she cried some more. She put her head down as she began to shake all over again. She just could not stop.


And now, it’s the past but those words resonate within her. His words speak of the truth and it’s the unbearable thoughts she always had in the very back of her head. 

Words weigh nothing; it is the meaning behind them which make them weigh more than one imagines. And when the truth behind those meanings are put forth, they hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath out of you, shaking you like a gust of wind shaking the branches of trees.

Sometimes, actions do not speak louder than words.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

the lacking, the missing, the vanished

I still like hearing my name come from his mouth.
I still smile over the fact that I can make him laugh, that he finds me mildly amusing.
I adore the little questions he asks me once in a while.
I like the sound of his laughter and his childish enthusiasm for certain things.
His sense of humour is intriguing and his perspective on things is logical.

There are many questions answered but so many more unanswered. It feels like I’m seeing him more often than before and it makes me nervous. I do not go there anticipating the encounters but it still happens. I am trying my best to let go of these feelings because they are becoming more serious than I ever imagined. Feelings of confusion and frustration lay in between the feelings of happiness and excitement.

I am lost. I do not know what I want. He does not know the small joys he brings to my days and I am slowly growing tired of keeping it a secret. I am not sure whether I adore him or I adore the idea of liking someone; the small games we play and the exchange of smiles. I don’t know anymore.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

one winter morning.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary on this Tuesday morning, nothing at all. It’s the same purple room, cluttered with objects which possess sentimental value (although those memories are fading). And lively jazz whispers from the speakers as a scented candle burns brightly in the corner of the room. My thoughts are as scattered as the clothes hanging everywhere in the room. And it’s all perfect. This is how I want to live for a while. I can see it. My imperfections create a comfortable world and nothing makes me happier than waking up to melodic jazz and apple cinnamon scents.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011


She smiled to herself.

She had listened intently to the words he pronounced ever so slowly and caught glimpses of him throughout the night. She noticed many things she never cared for before. She was familiar with his usual greeting to customers, the way he would dismiss some and acknowledge others. Oh, she felt like a foolish child. She was so caught up in his dreams and aspirations. She would forever remember his pleasant crooked smile and the way he teased her. The pair of sleepy eyes he wore; they sparkled in the soft sunlight and saw right past her. She will always remember them.

And here she was tonight, collecting every thought about him. She watched him move with slow ease and confidence. She was always jealous of how relaxed he seemed. It was like all the other nights she was there with him. The same upbeat music playing in the background and dim lights that made the entire room seem rather old and yellow. Nothing has changed but her thoughts.

Nothing ever changes there.

Monday, January 17, 2011

and these dreams are only dreams.

It turns out that when one’s mind is disturbed, it becomes difficult for one to think of anything else but the soft humming of thoughts that float within the mind. These thoughts flow like water in streams, consistently rushing along, taking the soil and leaves that lay along the sides: gently eroding the earth with time.

These thoughts that have grown from memories and lessons thrive on every minute we live. Some blossom into luscious green pines and some fall short of being much of anything. They serve no purpose in the vast woods; they merely take up space and inhibit new forms of life to grow. Vines sprout from nowhere and wrap themselves around the large trunks of trees, like everlasting hugs. They are unable to let go because they have no other place to go. These vines are unfamiliar with the other parts of the woods and so they cling onto what they acknowledge as their allies. They know the trees, their neighbours, will not harm them but little do they know, it is themselves who slowly choke the trees. They weaken their branches, invade their homes and ultimately inhibit them from growth. And if one listens closely enough, the vines whisper soft apologies to these trees. They ask the small birds to chirp apologetic songs to the world because they have no voice. These vines are silenced from birth.

stranger encounter

Standing by the counter, he was pouring sugar into his coffee. Not meaning to be rude, I glanced over to see if he was done as he was standing right in front of the lids and my arms weren’t long enough to reach over.

“I saw that.”
”I’m sorry?”
” I saw that look you gave me. You were thinking when the heck I would be done pouring sugar into my coffee” he said as he gave me a sly grin.
I laughed and replied,”oh of course not, I’m not judging, I swear!”
”It’s okay, I know it’s a lot of sugar but hey, things are good in excessive amounts.”
I chuckled.
”Unfortunately, I am in a program which requires me to be aware of what I put in my body.” He gave me a curious look as he still wore that boyish grin on his face.
”I’m in kinesiology.”
”Oh! I was going to guess nursing.”
”Oh no, not nursing.”

I gave him one last smile and walked away.

Saturday, January 15, 2011


I came back from my family physician’s house tonight. He had invited my family over for dinner as we had invited him to our annual Christmas dinner. It was not until I was standing in his kitchen that I realized how long I have known this man.

He has been our family physician for almost 30 years now and it was not until I was standing in his kitchen, did I realize that he has literally known me my entire life. He has watched me grow—literally; and yet, I did not know much about him. I never saw him as a family friend, only my doctor. As I stood watching my family interact with him, I felt a sense of community and friendship. I rarely see this other side of him at the office: a man who smiles and laughs until his whole body shakes with happiness. Despite being a divorced man with kids out of the city, I never thought of his situation as a bad thing. But seeing him in a new light made me aware of how lonely he probably feels sometimes. Luckily, he has found a new significant other and they seem genuinely happy together, enjoying each other’s company. Life filled his eyes tonight and it made me happy knowing that my family  is considered a positive group in his life. Seeing everyone mingle and talk about the most mundane reminds me that friends is such a precious thing.

The realization that the man in the white coat is just another human being is so strange. Strange because I never thought of this before and it perplexes me as to why I never viewed him in the past as a family friend and an ordinary human being.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

short and sweet.

It truly was not much of anything but a reason for smiling.

I seemingly like this man who remembers little things which happen in my life. Our conversations are beginning to connect together, linking the past with the present. I do not understand the workings of him. I have faith that this acquaintanceship is growing ever so slowly and carefully. 

Monday, January 10, 2011

silly children.

This afternoon, I realized how fortunate I am. I had a pleasant chat with an old friend this afternoon and she brought up a former schoolmate of mine. She told me that school was a struggle for her and she did not seem very enthusiastic about her family life. Aside from her boyfriend, she was not the happy chap I once knew. And this got me thinking.

Looking back, I remember my last two years of high school when I had fallen into what was probably my worst stage of depression. I lost hope in a lot of things I had once believed in and the most detrimental thing was I had lost confidence in myself. I did not believe that I was intelligent, I could not compare my looks to those young women who walked the hallways with no fear. I was losing a personal battle back in high school. I was struck with envy as I did not understand why I had to go through problem after problem; why did I have to understand the concept of death so early in life? Why was I forced to mature and take on so many responsibilities so early on? High school was a constant reminder of how carefree they all seemed to be and how stuck I was. Everyone was moving but I had fallen so hard that I found it excruciating to even try.

But now, it’s all different. I have come to accept my personal battles as life experiences that have taught me valuable, priceless lessons. My past problems are no longer problems because I have made them a part of my life. Although still not emotionally stable, I am more accepting of those feelings I used to want to hide. I understand myself a lot more and I recognize the steps I need to take in order to overcome my own depression. I am still in the learning process but I am very content with where I am. You might be asking yourself what this has to do with my former schoolmate of mine. Well, after hearing about how she is not content  with her academic life, I have come to realize one thing: that no matter what one goes through, life continues. To think that I used to envy her because she seemed to get all the men she was interested in, she was intelligent and received all the high marks she aimed for. But I no longer possess those naive and jealous thoughts. Instead, I empathize with her situation because I have felt those exact feelings and occasionally, I still do. I do not mean to say that my life is perfect in any way. In fact, it’s far from it but I do appreciate everything that I have gone through as they have acted as huge stepping stones to my present.

The real lesson here is that my jealousy for other’s lives are inevitable but that does not mean my life is not one I do not appreciate. I will always remember how fortunate I am to have a supporting family and loving friends. I will bask in my strange ability to attract the strangers that make up a large part of my social life. Above all, my life is for me to define, no one else can do it as well as I can.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

unrequited love

I recently finished reading one of Tolstoy’s short works called The Cossacks. It spoke of a young aristocrat by the name of Olenin who did not believe in love. He has never fallen in love before—that is, until he saw Maryanka. He didn’t even have to speak to her and he was instantly drawn to her. He never thought he would find himself in love with someone (or anyone for that matter).  His days were not complete without seeing her. He questioned whether it were possible to love someone for their looks even if he knew she probably would never understand him. He loved her for her beauty and this shook him.

Some readers may call it crazy, obsessive but I see it otherwise. The idea of loving a stranger without getting to know them is a strange concept indeed but possible. Of course, the story itself was much more complicated and dealt with a lot more than the idea of superficial love. What struck me about Olenin, was his assurance in his feelings towards Maryanka. And it made me wonder whether one can really be drawn to someone with no knowledge of their personality. Can one really love from afar, without any expectations of a possible future together? Is it one’s fortune to experience such a strong attraction or one’s own ill-fortune to be stuck in such a dilemma. The Cossacks really made me question many things. For one, do many people experience this type of love? Is this even love?

From experience I can say that admiring an acquaintance is possible and sometimes the attraction towards someone cannot always be explained. As cliché as this sounds, I suppose your heart occasionally knows best.

Saturday, January 8, 2011


I feel like it has been a while since I have updated this blog with something worthwhile. It’s hard to push myself to produce something blog-worthy these days. Ever since school started, I’ve been having a bad cause of anxiety and minor OCD symptoms are apparent. My organization skills are beyond normal as I am trying to print out various articles, lab instructions and syllabi for my six courses this semester. However, this year my motto for myself is no excuses; I firmly believe that I can accomplish what needs to be accomplished as long as I make the effort and time.

That being said, many small occurrences have happened this past week. I believe that I have grown so much more independent, no longer striving for company when I grow weak in the mind. I am more aware of my relations with those who have entered my life recently. Although not everything is clear, I am more accepting of the mystery and uncertainty that lies between our relationship. And in the midst of these thoughts, I am immersing myself in the readings that need to be done for school. I have made myself extremely preoccupied with my academics. And by keeping myself absorbed in my work, I have cut out a lot of the unnecessary things which have been lingering in my life the past few months. And also due to my strict schedule, I am more devoted in keeping in contact with those who mean the most to me. This busy semester is a reminder that time is precious, friends are vital and my love for life is growing.

There are no excuses anymore:
memento mori.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

a late Christmas card:

To a friend that I wish I see more of,

I think you’re an amazing person to talk to. You’re optimistic and your funny personality makes you fun to be around. I like hanging with you. Even though you say I put a smile on your face, I can say that you put a smile on mine. Not many people can do that. So here’s to a merry Christmas and a not so shitty 2011.

Your friend with love

This is why I love receiving cards of all sorts.


Welcome back. It’s nice to see you again.

How strange.

How strange is it that he is giving me strange, foreign signals? One minute, he is cold, the next interested and open to conversation. I don’t have a clue as to just how to interpret his actions.

He remembers the little things I’ve said to him previously.
He took interest in the book I was reading tonight.
We chatted in between lines, we talked like nothing had ever happened.
But perhaps that’s the thing: nothing ever did happen.
Nothing has changed between the two of us, we are still two strangers.
I do not attempt to try to figure it out anymore but sometimes, he makes me wonder. Just how much of it was my imagination and how much of it was true?