silent reverie

I suppose I never got the memo that the teenage-parent relationship is bound to become strained especially if the teenager grows up in a completely different country than his or her parents did. I've never felt the embarrassment of having a Fay Da birthday cake that none of my other 8-year-old friends wanted to eat, or having to order at fast food places for my dad who couldn't say "cheeseburger". My parents didn't hang traditional Chinese red paper things on our front door, or make us eat dumplings and rice everyday. But the generation gap that created rifts in most of my friends' relationships with their parents now threatens to do the same to us. My parents had spent most of my life carefully constructing a bridge in order to best this dreaded obstacle of parenthood, but now I feel as if I've crossed the bridge while my parents are stuck on the other side. I thought that talking to my parents was the best way to solve this problem. This problem tha...

This town is cold tonight, I think it's sick of us It's time to make our move, I'm shaking off the rust I've got my heart set on anywhere but here I'm staring down myself, counting up the years Steady hands, just take the wheel And every glance is killing me Time to make one last appeal for the life I lead

So I took a bit of a unofficial hiatus from sharing my insight on life, love, and all things brilliant. What I did with all that extra time I can't really say, but I suddenly realized today that I miss writing in here. And despite the fact that I've placed this address as my website on facebook, I still have this feeling that not many people read this thing anyway so no biggie =) So it's mental image time: I'm sitting a bit slanted at the dining room table with one leg tucked under me. I'm typing away at my beautiful little laptop with a half a cup of coffee, a bowl of granola, and your A Tale of Two Cities next to me. It's an unbelievably gorgeous day today and I can't help but feel grateful to be alive. To be breathing and to be seeing and thinking and planning. It's easy to take these things for granted huh. But hopefully we won't need to be kidnapped by Jigsaw to appreciate life...hm .. let's not go there. Anyways, my mommy just gave me som...

I need it, I want it, and I really need to do it.

Happy is a yuppie word Blessed is the man who's lost it all Happy is a yuppie word Looking for an orphanage I'm looking for a bridge I can't burn down I don't believe the emptiness I'm looking for the kingdom coming down Everything is meaningless I want more than simple cash can buy Happy is a yuppie word ~Jon Foreman We spend our lives searching for small ways to release the endorphins in our mind that give us short bursts of happiness, and we measure the "good-ness" of our days by the number of bursts we receive. On a good day, we receive an A on our midterm, got three or more compliments on our new clothes, bag, earrings, haircut, caught the bus on time, and completed all of our work with enough time to sneak a nice long facebook stalk session. On a bad day, we opposite usually happens. And from day to day, we live in hopes that the good will balance out the bad so we can remain relatively cheerful throughout. But at the end of the day, what do we ha...

My life is changing and in a direction I never expected it to take. It is changing in such a brilliant and exuberant and terrifying way that I am constantly confounded by how well I maintain the thin veneer of calm that I present to most people. This veneer neatly hides my churning questions and the exhilarating possibilities of life, as well as its grave consequences, that all shout, coax, and stare at me from every angle. At the end of my day, the trite phrases and Sunday school sayings that nourished me from childhood can no longer satisfy me, not unlike the way I have lost my appetite for warm milk before bedtime. The "tried and true" formulas for love and life that have worked for others may not and somehow do not work for me anymore, because the key to "tried and true" is the fact that someone tried. It was attempted, a risk was made, a desire fulfilled. Consequence or no consequence, they tried. And what they found is their story. And for those who su...

Snow fell thick and small It buried a starlit fog You remembered it all I'm sleepdriving away Metal and mold, bourbon and clove Mirrors and smoke, yesterday's clothes I'm sleepdriving away Eyes through your window, I stare out And some, someday we'll be too old Swirling round, the light above Outside the crows were waking up It's nearly dawn Motel home was nearly gone No sleep at all I came across this song by Grand Archives while I was not studying for chem and browsing through related artists on imeem. I just love the verbal imagery combined with the wistful, magical musical accompaniment, and it just might be a new favorite song of the ... day.

So this is going to be an entry to simply detail one or two exciting things that have happened in the past couple of days. Nothing fancy or thought-provoking; just an overexcited child wanting to share her news and stories through this semi-public medium (and besides my facebook status isn't long enough to fit all this). So on Monday, I got a chance to hang out with Eunsoo (I really can't call her christina in text for some reason) for her birthday. We went to a really (far) nice bakery called Panera bread, which everyone probably knows about but me. Until now! I love bread... Why am I excited? For future knitting projects (I wanna be able to make those weird knitted sleeve things) that have become convenient and simplified "for the busy knitter". Tuesday was Wicked! And let me tell you...it was good. Kerry Ellis played Elphaba and she was amazing (and very pretty in green might I add). It was hilarious, heart-wrenching, the effects and the technology impres...

Happiness will come. For everything else, there's joy.

I know it should be "pains", but for me, it's more like bouts of difficulty interrupted by periods of longing for more difficulty so that I can know that I'm growing. It's been on my mind alot lately. Not just the typical "I want to get up and get out of here" feeling of teenage rebellion, but more a dissatisfaction of the comfortably easy life that I've lived up until now. So comfortable that it's slowly becoming a bit suffocating. I'm a romantic, or a daydreamer, or a girl who has made wishful thinking such a part of her mind that it's difficult separate the lofty from the realistic. But even so, I have a simple longing right now to be on my own. Not a lone ranger or someone who sits in a park by herself all day. But working, sleeping, eating, achieving, planning, and simply living without my bubble wrap. To feel satisfaction in the personal triumphs, to make my own decisions, to go places with people when I want to go, to work w...

Bone-weary is a term that I've only read in books but have never used to describe myself. And I don't know if I would even use it now. But I am a little tired today. More than physically or mentally, but I just feel tired. Tired and tired of being tired. Also a little tired of myself. Who I am and all that jazz.

Swinging my legs like a little girl, legs clothed with sophisticated black jeans and pointy champagne colored shoes; my actions betray me, I am a little girl. But I am a content little girl, with Rogue Wave and The Afters taking turns serenading me as the squeaky bus rumbles on. High schoolers waltz onto the bus with all the hesitance and vibrance; relief and weariness and fun dance around the blue seats and among the American Eagle totes and white headphones. I look at my own ipod and my oversized bag and realized with some bemusement that I blend in quite well. A "four-months-ago" kind of well. He bustles on as the bus pauses, glasses askew, out of breath and encumbered with large laundry bags. Short, awkward, middle-aged man looked around anxiously and was relieved to find an empty seat next to me. He scoots in apologetically and sighs. I smell Ivory bar soap; it was a pleasant surprise coming from such a flustered individual. He shifts away from me again and offers...

Nothing can send a message as quickly as a piece of artwork can. By the time the light reaches your eyes and is interpreted by your brain, it will have already had its affect (intended or unintended) on you. It can make you laugh (I hope this one made you chuckle a little) or scare you, break your heart, lift your spirits. The possibilities are endless! What a gift to us from our Creator...the ability to create. It's amazing! Ever since I've been "stumbling" across photography websites and the like, I've come to appreciate art in all different forms all the more. The things people come up with ... This image came from a collection of interesting urban art. Much of the street art I have seen is so creative because the artists don't take what they see around them and translate it into their own perspectives only to have it put on display in a neat gallery or exhibit. These artists expose their creativity to the elements, not afraid that they will be rain...

PostSecret (if you don't know already) is a project by a man named Frank Warren who became a "secret collector'. He invited anyone to mail him their secrets anonymously on a postcard, and the only rules were that the secret must be true and must be revealed for the first time. Hundreds of thousands of postcards came pouring in; some are amusing, some are cute, others heartbreaking and even sinister. The artwork on many of the post-cards are unforgettable, the words piercing. But what makes me return to the PostSecret website again and again (when I should be studying for chem), is that I'm half-afraid, half-excited to see some of my own secrets appear in another one's writing. I found one of them today.

Mondays are inspirational chat days with mommy over a late breakfast while my dad half-listens at his computer a few feet away. I love talking to her sometimes, and today we floated towards the topic of colleges and what God is doing on campuses. On Friday night, David Van Fleet said that the presidential election of this year will influence the fate of this country for the next 30 or 40 years. When I thought about it, I realized that that would be my entire adulthood. It's a bit scary to think about, and to know that the choices that my generation makes at the very end of our teenage years (and as my first year as an almost-adult) will have such lasting effects. And we will have to deal with the bulk of the consequences. And I rarely think about politics other than to just sigh and say "oh I don't like either of them...". Sometimes, my oblivion to the world around me is a choice that I make in order to keep myself on task with all that my own petty life throws...

So tonight is the all-night prayer meeting and tomorrow we'll be heading down to Jersey to witness the beginnings of a powerful work of God at Rutgers. And I've been pondering these things as I pulled myself out of bed this morning while the sky was still dark. I scrolled through a groggy mental list of to-dos, wondered about breakfast, and then felt a sudden weariness wash over me as I realized that my to-dos stretched much farther than just chem lab and a few classes. Despite my musings and my constant attempts at reaching profundity, my spirit has felt dry and perhaps even angry at God for a while. Why am I angry? I felt this feeling creep up on me in my struggle against His will, and although I knew in my head and in my heart that His love for me goes beyond my present stubbornness and rebellion, I can't help but ask Him why. Why these circumstances, why am I like this? Why did those things happen to me as a young girl when I didn't understand? Now I find mysel...

It's quite rare to find a band who writes songs with such vivid imagery and profound lyrics. These kind of songs you can listen to again and again, and you can interpret it the way you like, while I stick to my opinion, but in the end, we can only agree that the song makes us think. A kind of song that makes my heart grieve for a pain that does not belong to me. Words that make me sit back and wonder how in the world someone can come up with such a beautiful phrase. Simple phrases that echo far deeper than what is sung. Unless I'm just reading too much into Ben Gibbard's "What Sarah Said" and "Marching Bands of Manhattan". Perhaps his music resonates with me because it is so wistful and full of a yearning yet held back by a wariness caused by past hurts and disappointments. His voice would not earn a nod from any one of the American Idol judges, and his looks could pass for any cubicle-bound, tetris-playing, computer analyst. But he is honest, a...

I'm home alone right now, and this might not mean much to most of you, but to me, the next 2 hours are precious and rare. In a house tumbling with people, sounds, clothes, and more people, we all have to find our little sliver of alone time now and then. Perhaps this is the reason why I secretly enjoy spending loner time during my breaks reading at Barnes and Nobles. I'm not the type of person who needs constant companionship, but of course my alone-ness has its limits before it turns into loneliness. I've only written four entries in this blog, and two of them so far have been about being alone. It must seem like I crave space and silence desperately, which isn't truly the case, but at the same time, isn't far from the truth either. Anyways, I'm home alone right now, and here is what the world looks like from where I'm sitting. There are some days that are simply beautiful despite the pain and hardships that still reign mere miles beneath the perfect ...

As much as I love to write, I love images and instances that make you feel a way that cannot be expressed in words. When the perfect song matches the perfect mood all set to the backdrop of the perfect weather (whose perfection is, obviously, dependent upon the mood), my fancy phrases can't possibly do it justice. Which is sad, since I would love to be able to help you feel what I feel and see what I see. Perhaps I do live my life as a long music video. Maybe one day I'll make one and you'll all know what I'm talking about.

Waking up before the sun decides to join you is an interesting experience... after you convince yourself that chem lab is not just a class and you really shouldn't sleep in. Today, by the time I surrendered to the logic of my nagging inner student conscience (for the lack of a better term), I realized that waking up before everyone else gives me a unique window of time to be alone. Not just left alone or away from people while the rest of the world goes about its business. But now, the entire house, and perhaps many other houses, are completely silent because people aren't in "this world" yet. When we sleep, we become unconscious to what is happening around us, and it's almost like a mini-death! Trust me, I'm not trying to be morbid. But I feel alone right now in a peaceful way, is what I'm trying to get across. Everyone is here, no one has left or "abandoned" me, and yet their minds are off somewhere submitting itself to the whims of its s...

Here I am, sitting contently across from my silly sister who just threw a pen at my knuckle for making fun of her for something or other, and I have to say that life is a funny thing. If it wasn't funny, it would be hopelessly confusing or rather depressing. Not to take life lightly, but sometimes, I wonder if humor is one of God's greatest gifts to mankind after the Fall, kind of like a fabric softener or a highlighter for the darker days ahead. Anyways, I have decided to begin to blog about my life (not that I haven't been secretly doing so for a while), giving my take on things, my thoughts on people, places, events, and myself. However, it is incumbent upon me to warn you that I do not live the most brilliantly exhilarating life by the world's standards. But on second thought, after 18 years of living we all have some stories to tell, some lessons to teach, and some opinions to share, so feel free to return the favor. Another change about this new blog: I'v...