Days go by.
People live on.
But man, it really hurts sometimes to watch time go by.
You find yourself thinking, damn, what happened to us? All of us? We were unstoppable, we were inseparable, and we kicked some ass pretty hard together… and then…
What happened.
As I watch people- no, not people, but close friends- leave the nest, head off to college, and kick off their lives, I find my self really dreading the day that this will happen to me. I’m very much a person who enjoys friendships and relationships, and I can’t deal with people leaving. Honestly, ask anyone.
Unfortunately, I’ve gotten my fair share of goodbyes, as have most.
Hell, I witnessed [in a way] two seemingly inseparable friends split apart, and consistently see one [I'm not close to them, mind you, but get Facebook newsfeed updates quite frequently] completely disregard the fact that the other existed. Perhaps this disregarded friend thinks often about his ex-best friend; it's actually quite likely, but seeing both go on with their lives is strange.
[I'm also hoping that the person this is about didn't realize it was them, because I don't bring it up with them but I do know that it hurts for friend 2 to think about.]
However, after thinking about it, we shouldn’t be sad that people branch out and go on with their lives, but instead should be happy for the memories. If we kept all our friends, we would end up neglecting them all, if you consider it. Of course, people say this sort of thing as an inspirational message at graduations and going away parties and the what, but I’ve been very intimately exposed to this… a bit prematurely, in my opinion, because of all the lovely seniors I’ve come to adore with all my heart.
So it hurts to leave, but we have to keep going, because it’s all we can do. Be thankful for the happiness that people gave you, and be hopeful for future happiness due to new relationships and friendships.
So I guess to conclude, I'll say some inspirational finale that would make everyone cheer and cry and hug their mothers, and all that good stuff.
Whether you believe it or not is your own problem, but I sure as hell don't want to.
"There is no such thing as goodbye, only more opportunities to say hello."
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
When you fall 7 times, laugh 8 times.
"하늘빛 무대 위의 주인공 그건 바로 우리야 그대야, 세 상 속에 난 서있어 뜨겁게 타는 불꽃처럼..."
-In other words, be happy. You're all you've got. [:
Fame. Such a blessing, but apparent in quite the disguise.
It'd be a lie to say one has never wished for fame [mainly because no one in the world is that modest; come on, you know it's true], but man, the older one gets... or rather, the more mature one gets, the more one sees what a serious hindrance the status is.
But man, I mean, sometimes fame is just totally blown out of proportion in order to make people covet it. And that's all it really is, on closer observation.
Think of it this way. People strive for acceptance- it's why rumors hurt, yeah?- and fame is, well, the top of the top as far as that goes. Doesn't matter if it's good fame or bad fame- people know you exist if you're a celebrity. To pursue this is pretty superficial, in my opinion, after I've given it some thought... and quite unrewarding. Seriously, you get gossiped about, you get stalked, you get zero privacy- does the benefit REALLY outweigh the gain?
[Why do we want to be famous? To be accepted, of course.]
We live in a society that practically worships the famous. And for what? They're just regular people. Their good deeds have only reached you because their fame made their good deeds a larger scale project. But most of the time, these good deeds are simply for good PR. I'm sure they'd tell you fame sucks.
And fame does suck. Be happy with what you've got, for Christ's sake. Ironically, perhaps the most low-profile people who go into celebrity-style careers who get the MOST shit for what they do are politicians. Yeah, they're corrupt, but we all are. At least they're standing up for their ideals.
So that's all I can think to say about that. I don't know if I really said what I intended to there, my head's been elsewhere recently.
[Thus why my title/first lines don't fit with the rest of my post. Hurray for focus deficiency!]
Perhaps I'll start writing more once I get out of the strange swing I've been in, thanks to school.
Drink your vegetables and eat your milk.
-CS.
-In other words, be happy. You're all you've got. [:
Fame. Such a blessing, but apparent in quite the disguise.
It'd be a lie to say one has never wished for fame [mainly because no one in the world is that modest; come on, you know it's true], but man, the older one gets... or rather, the more mature one gets, the more one sees what a serious hindrance the status is.
But man, I mean, sometimes fame is just totally blown out of proportion in order to make people covet it. And that's all it really is, on closer observation.
Think of it this way. People strive for acceptance- it's why rumors hurt, yeah?- and fame is, well, the top of the top as far as that goes. Doesn't matter if it's good fame or bad fame- people know you exist if you're a celebrity. To pursue this is pretty superficial, in my opinion, after I've given it some thought... and quite unrewarding. Seriously, you get gossiped about, you get stalked, you get zero privacy- does the benefit REALLY outweigh the gain?
[Why do we want to be famous? To be accepted, of course.]
We live in a society that practically worships the famous. And for what? They're just regular people. Their good deeds have only reached you because their fame made their good deeds a larger scale project. But most of the time, these good deeds are simply for good PR. I'm sure they'd tell you fame sucks.
And fame does suck. Be happy with what you've got, for Christ's sake. Ironically, perhaps the most low-profile people who go into celebrity-style careers who get the MOST shit for what they do are politicians. Yeah, they're corrupt, but we all are. At least they're standing up for their ideals.
So that's all I can think to say about that. I don't know if I really said what I intended to there, my head's been elsewhere recently.
[Thus why my title/first lines don't fit with the rest of my post. Hurray for focus deficiency!]
Perhaps I'll start writing more once I get out of the strange swing I've been in, thanks to school.
Drink your vegetables and eat your milk.
-CS.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Praying for love in a lap dance, and paying in naivety.
I've been thinking a lot lately, about many different things.
I plan on putting them all up on this blog, but I'm not sure if they'll be separately posted or not... so I guess what I'm trying to say is that if they're all jumbled together in one post, just bear with me. I want to get everything out, save maybe one thing that's gnawing at the corners of my mind whenever I drift off.
But who knows, that might be posted too.
Anyway, I went to New York City for the first time from last Wednesday to this past Saturday. [Hontou desu! :D NYC ga saikou no toshiiii~ Kore wa cheesakunai-desu...x__X]
It was amazing, indubitably, and I had been expecting greatness, indubitably... I'd wanted to go since I was a little kid, and it didn't disappoint. However, when we drove through the streets of Manhattan, a string of thoughts went through my head.
Our society is swimming neck-deep in debauchery... and I'd venture to say it's built upon it itself. I never gave it much thought, growing up in suburbia, but geez... we passed so many strip joints [and strip joint ADS, for that matter] in NYC that I was beginning to wonder why prostitution hasn't been federally legalized, as it would certainly help with the good old USA's outstanding national debt...
[Of course, I say this to be facetious. I see the logic behind it being the industry, or lack thereof, that it is. Sillies.]
Anyway, as we passed all these gentlemen's clubs and DVD/lingerie stores, I was sitting there thinking about how many political scandals there are each year, known and unknown to the public; how many viruses are transferred over the world wide web through a façade of pornography. I mean, damn, think about how many people are doing the following- the dirty, thinking about doing the dirty, or even WATCHING having the dirty done- RIGHT NOW. Weird thought, right? And as teenage pregnancy numbers skyrocket, it's almost sad to see how weak our generation has become to primal carnal instinct. Is that why people are divorcing so frequently; the sex just isn't the same?
And it's not just sex, I've realized... it's everything. We live in a world where self-pleasure rules over man, and we're all so fucking susceptible to the seemingly iron grasp. Every night is an orgy, figuratively speaking or not, making every morning the lazy swirl of partial memories and occasional remnants of the night before as we try to hide from the light filtering through the window on our side... and once you start this cycle, you just end up wanting more and more. Tell me, reader, am I wrong?
I'm not condemning sexual acts in the least. It's part of healthy human behavior, no doubt there. I just find it a bit comical that people of the 21st century have taken such refuge in all this. Is it really all you have left, mortal?
Oh, this and love. Ever wonder how many times someone says "I love you" in a day? If every person in the world said they loved someone, that's approximately 6,814,472,306 "I love you"s.
Now think of how many of them are lying.
It's like there's pressure these days to love!
I find that more and more kids are "falling in love". It's what makes me hate movies like Twilight, to be completely blunt. You have this relationship- an abusive relationship, at that- and it's portrayed as perfection in the easily manipulated, fragile mind of the weak-spirited teenage female.
Some of them.
But is this not true for adults, too? There's so many movies about so-called picture-perfect love, and this sets this unreachable standard.
I've talked about all this before, I'm stopping here. Go read my other post if you're interested.
One last thing, though- if we've got such a pressure to have our constituents fall in love, why is love between two constituents [in America, in particular] of the same gender condemned?
[I know I said I was done, but I wanted to talk about this too...]
I was talking to a friend today about how I thought that being called gay, lesbian, bi, straight, or whatever the hell you want to be called was just asking for segregation. I mean, look at it rationally. Labels like that are made for one reason- to separate groups of people. And when groups branch off from one another, people start feeling reasons instinctively to say that they're better than the other, or that the other is wrong for being different.
Ugh, this post is going to cause mucho conflict, I can feel it. xD I risk posting as private, actually, because all this was quite a bitch to spill onto a page.
I really meant it when I said I have trouble sorting my thoughts into words. Filing cabinet.
Have a wonderful Tuesday.
-CS.
PS- There will always be someone in a person's life who has no idea how much the actions and decisions that they themselves carry out will impact another... and how much they'll be missed when they're gone.
I plan on putting them all up on this blog, but I'm not sure if they'll be separately posted or not... so I guess what I'm trying to say is that if they're all jumbled together in one post, just bear with me. I want to get everything out, save maybe one thing that's gnawing at the corners of my mind whenever I drift off.
But who knows, that might be posted too.
Anyway, I went to New York City for the first time from last Wednesday to this past Saturday. [Hontou desu! :D NYC ga saikou no toshiiii~ Kore wa cheesakunai-desu...x__X]
It was amazing, indubitably, and I had been expecting greatness, indubitably... I'd wanted to go since I was a little kid, and it didn't disappoint. However, when we drove through the streets of Manhattan, a string of thoughts went through my head.
Our society is swimming neck-deep in debauchery... and I'd venture to say it's built upon it itself. I never gave it much thought, growing up in suburbia, but geez... we passed so many strip joints [and strip joint ADS, for that matter] in NYC that I was beginning to wonder why prostitution hasn't been federally legalized, as it would certainly help with the good old USA's outstanding national debt...
[Of course, I say this to be facetious. I see the logic behind it being the industry, or lack thereof, that it is. Sillies.]
Anyway, as we passed all these gentlemen's clubs and DVD/lingerie stores, I was sitting there thinking about how many political scandals there are each year, known and unknown to the public; how many viruses are transferred over the world wide web through a façade of pornography. I mean, damn, think about how many people are doing the following- the dirty, thinking about doing the dirty, or even WATCHING having the dirty done- RIGHT NOW. Weird thought, right? And as teenage pregnancy numbers skyrocket, it's almost sad to see how weak our generation has become to primal carnal instinct. Is that why people are divorcing so frequently; the sex just isn't the same?
And it's not just sex, I've realized... it's everything. We live in a world where self-pleasure rules over man, and we're all so fucking susceptible to the seemingly iron grasp. Every night is an orgy, figuratively speaking or not, making every morning the lazy swirl of partial memories and occasional remnants of the night before as we try to hide from the light filtering through the window on our side... and once you start this cycle, you just end up wanting more and more. Tell me, reader, am I wrong?
I'm not condemning sexual acts in the least. It's part of healthy human behavior, no doubt there. I just find it a bit comical that people of the 21st century have taken such refuge in all this. Is it really all you have left, mortal?
Oh, this and love. Ever wonder how many times someone says "I love you" in a day? If every person in the world said they loved someone, that's approximately 6,814,472,306 "I love you"s.
Now think of how many of them are lying.
It's like there's pressure these days to love!
I find that more and more kids are "falling in love". It's what makes me hate movies like Twilight, to be completely blunt. You have this relationship- an abusive relationship, at that- and it's portrayed as perfection in the easily manipulated, fragile mind of the weak-spirited teenage female.
Some of them.
But is this not true for adults, too? There's so many movies about so-called picture-perfect love, and this sets this unreachable standard.
I've talked about all this before, I'm stopping here. Go read my other post if you're interested.
One last thing, though- if we've got such a pressure to have our constituents fall in love, why is love between two constituents [in America, in particular] of the same gender condemned?
[I know I said I was done, but I wanted to talk about this too...]
I was talking to a friend today about how I thought that being called gay, lesbian, bi, straight, or whatever the hell you want to be called was just asking for segregation. I mean, look at it rationally. Labels like that are made for one reason- to separate groups of people. And when groups branch off from one another, people start feeling reasons instinctively to say that they're better than the other, or that the other is wrong for being different.
Ugh, this post is going to cause mucho conflict, I can feel it. xD I risk posting as private, actually, because all this was quite a bitch to spill onto a page.
I really meant it when I said I have trouble sorting my thoughts into words. Filing cabinet.
Have a wonderful Tuesday.
-CS.
PS- There will always be someone in a person's life who has no idea how much the actions and decisions that they themselves carry out will impact another... and how much they'll be missed when they're gone.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
What the hell IS vintage these days, anyway?
This might look like two posts in the same day, but to me, it's not. Days end when I go to sleep, damnit! xD
I sat on a porch swing today on the front deck of a house on Mulberry Street. Here I sat with at least 6 or 7 other people- some sitting on various chairs of various types; folding, rocking, whatnot; some standing- and I was content.
Most of them were smoking, and one of them had a considerable resemblance of Iggy Pop.
Seriously.
This was the late afternoon, and it wasn't particularly hot, but the heat had set in for the day.
Anyway, I was sitting here with these people thinking about how I'd have loved to live when the music was good, and everyone was so carefree.
I've often said I should've been born 50 years earlier. I feel like living [CONSCIOUSLY living, mind you] during the 70s and 80s would really make me happier than I am these days. Hell, you can tell that by the music I listen to.
It's strange to me, though, that people long for different times... that they haven't even lived through. Are people born to their designated time period/undesignated time period, or does it matter?
I've thought about this often... sometimes people say they've been born into the wrong gender, or sometimes [fewer times, indubitably], people say they've been born into the wrong culture. But to be born into the wrong time period?
Maybe I'm just weird.
I haven't really decided yet.
Food for thought.
-CS.
I sat on a porch swing today on the front deck of a house on Mulberry Street. Here I sat with at least 6 or 7 other people- some sitting on various chairs of various types; folding, rocking, whatnot; some standing- and I was content.
Most of them were smoking, and one of them had a considerable resemblance of Iggy Pop.
Seriously.
This was the late afternoon, and it wasn't particularly hot, but the heat had set in for the day.
Anyway, I was sitting here with these people thinking about how I'd have loved to live when the music was good, and everyone was so carefree.
I've often said I should've been born 50 years earlier. I feel like living [CONSCIOUSLY living, mind you] during the 70s and 80s would really make me happier than I am these days. Hell, you can tell that by the music I listen to.
It's strange to me, though, that people long for different times... that they haven't even lived through. Are people born to their designated time period/undesignated time period, or does it matter?
I've thought about this often... sometimes people say they've been born into the wrong gender, or sometimes [fewer times, indubitably], people say they've been born into the wrong culture. But to be born into the wrong time period?
Maybe I'm just weird.
I haven't really decided yet.
Food for thought.
-CS.
Filing cabinets?
I realized today that though I remember things quite easily, I can't remember for the LIFE of me where these things are referenced from. For example, I can recall quotes and concepts and stories from movies and books and TV shows, but it takes me a minute to remember who said what in which movie or book or show.
I was talking to someone just a while ago about how my mind must be like a big box with papers strewn about it, instead of the average intellectual's mind: a filing cabinet. Labels on everything, sending all information to its proper place.
I want a filing cabinet mind! Then I could remember where statistics were from, and who said which quotes.
[And I swear I haven't blown up my filing cabinet with narcotics. I swear!]
I've also determined that when you've found someone to love, loving them is very different far away. That is, you love them the same, but you want them to be there so much that you get this longing feeling attached to the love... you sit there thinking about how wonderful it would be for them to be there so you could feel them. And when I say feel, I mean feel their presence in any way possible. I find myself doubting the presence of others at times- not physically, but... I don't know, call it existentialism. It just gives me great delight to feel someone living and breathing beside [and BESIDES] me, to feel their warmth, and not necessarily in a romantic sense, but just... proof of survival?
Of course, romantic senses of this proof are wonderful too. To hold and be held, and to feel someone there with you, and to practically make a game involving whoever can get the closest to the other.
Wow, tangent. You can tell what I'm thinking about, ne? If I'm making any sense today, I feel like I should award myself a medal, hah.
I also really don't like how personal this post is becoming, so I'm going to cut it here.
-CS.
I was talking to someone just a while ago about how my mind must be like a big box with papers strewn about it, instead of the average intellectual's mind: a filing cabinet. Labels on everything, sending all information to its proper place.
I want a filing cabinet mind! Then I could remember where statistics were from, and who said which quotes.
[And I swear I haven't blown up my filing cabinet with narcotics. I swear!]
I've also determined that when you've found someone to love, loving them is very different far away. That is, you love them the same, but you want them to be there so much that you get this longing feeling attached to the love... you sit there thinking about how wonderful it would be for them to be there so you could feel them. And when I say feel, I mean feel their presence in any way possible. I find myself doubting the presence of others at times- not physically, but... I don't know, call it existentialism. It just gives me great delight to feel someone living and breathing beside [and BESIDES] me, to feel their warmth, and not necessarily in a romantic sense, but just... proof of survival?
Of course, romantic senses of this proof are wonderful too. To hold and be held, and to feel someone there with you, and to practically make a game involving whoever can get the closest to the other.
Wow, tangent. You can tell what I'm thinking about, ne? If I'm making any sense today, I feel like I should award myself a medal, hah.
I also really don't like how personal this post is becoming, so I'm going to cut it here.
-CS.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
1.5.
I've decided that one day I want to dance with you to Moon River, because there would be nothing more perfect in the world than you and I together.
I'll never stop counting the minutes; all 788,923 and counting.
-CS.
I'll never stop counting the minutes; all 788,923 and counting.
-CS.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
So many colors in this distraction.
A commissioned post, of sorts.
This past week, I started thinking about people. People and their personalities.
Of course, personalities of human beings have long been compared- metaphorically, of course- to many different things. But all of a sudden, in English class this week, I started seeing them as shades.
[Shades of red, to be specific, but I'm not really sure if this was because there were red streaks of Expo markers on the whiteboard in front of me, or because I was angry. Tends to happen a lot in that class, but hey, what can ya do?]
Now, everyone has people in their lives that make up the spectrum of a certain color. You really do, hear me out.
Consider the brightest, most vivid color you can imagine. There's people on this earth whose personality reflects it, right? People who are very expressive, and stand up for their beliefs.
[Think of personalities like economics: we're under the assumption people are rational beings, thus make rational decisions. So people with personalities the color of a fire truck aren't always the first to jump off a cliff, nor radiate stupidity.]
So desaturate that color a bit.. if you chose red, think of a faint pinkish color. We know people like that too. These are the people who are very quiet, very reserved.. not necessarily the anti-social ones, but the ones who don't voice themselves with as much zeal.
It's weird to think about which shades we as a whole are drawn to, and which we as individuals are drawn to.
If you consider the Hindu/Buddhist characterization of humans through the color of their chakra, I guess this is in the same boat.. but instead of color, one looks at intensity. Rather elementary in the longrun, I suppose, but hell.. it makes sense to me.
Just think about it the next time you look at a chroma gradient.
That's all I've got for now, but more is bound to come next time I remember to update this blog.
-CS.
This past week, I started thinking about people. People and their personalities.
Of course, personalities of human beings have long been compared- metaphorically, of course- to many different things. But all of a sudden, in English class this week, I started seeing them as shades.
[Shades of red, to be specific, but I'm not really sure if this was because there were red streaks of Expo markers on the whiteboard in front of me, or because I was angry. Tends to happen a lot in that class, but hey, what can ya do?]
Now, everyone has people in their lives that make up the spectrum of a certain color. You really do, hear me out.
Consider the brightest, most vivid color you can imagine. There's people on this earth whose personality reflects it, right? People who are very expressive, and stand up for their beliefs.
[Think of personalities like economics: we're under the assumption people are rational beings, thus make rational decisions. So people with personalities the color of a fire truck aren't always the first to jump off a cliff, nor radiate stupidity.]
So desaturate that color a bit.. if you chose red, think of a faint pinkish color. We know people like that too. These are the people who are very quiet, very reserved.. not necessarily the anti-social ones, but the ones who don't voice themselves with as much zeal.
It's weird to think about which shades we as a whole are drawn to, and which we as individuals are drawn to.
If you consider the Hindu/Buddhist characterization of humans through the color of their chakra, I guess this is in the same boat.. but instead of color, one looks at intensity. Rather elementary in the longrun, I suppose, but hell.. it makes sense to me.
Just think about it the next time you look at a chroma gradient.
That's all I've got for now, but more is bound to come next time I remember to update this blog.
-CS.
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