Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood. Show all posts

Saturday, December 4, 2010

songs, beer, and a letter

I’ve been listening to itunes for the last several hours, and suddenly I realized something. Why are all songs practically about love? ALLL of them.

Okay, not all of them. Ke$ha sings about beer.

But still. A lot of songs are about love. Or maybe it’s just the songs I listen to…..o.0 Or maybe it’s just Koreans plus Taylor Swift…..Or maybe….nah. Anyways, I just thought it was weird that all Koreans plus Taylor Swift just sing about love. How do they think of sooooo many ways to say much of the same thing?!!? It goes to show that the way things are said matter big time. Even with the same basic message, I think some songs are just dumb, while others are super kinda extremely clever. And I never seem to get tired of listening to the same messages of hopefulness or heartbreak or whatever if they’re just phrased differently. A new song feels new because it demonstrates the same message as that of another song in a completely different manner. Writing lyrics seems like hard business. Especially when there’s rhyming and syllable counting involved.

Anyways, I felt like writing another random thing that has nothing to do with anything I just said. Again, it’s another semi-stream-of-consciousness deal, so forgive me if it makes your eyes bleed, I really didn’t mean for that to happen, sorry, sorry:


Dear Sailor Moon,

"Who is your hero?" my college application asks.

You come to mind.

This is a really big problem.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

uhm. what? double rainbows? not really.

I'm currently supposed to be working on college apps. But I never seem to be able to think of anything relevant unless it's due in 5 minutes.

....and it's not due in 5 minutes. So.

I haven't written anything for a while. I just feel like I don't really have anything to say. Actually, I do have things to say. I'm just being super lazy. It's hibernation season. All this winter and snow makes me feel extra slow.

But after listening to the same song on repeat 42 (43 now...) times, I've decided I really should write something. Even if it's not for college apps. So I'm just going to write a random story, regardless of how terribly it turns out. It's half stream of consciousness, since I'm just going to write it as random ideas pop into my head. Okay?

Even if you're not okay with it, too bad. I really need to get writing. And I feel sort of snobby right now. Sorry.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Sorry.

Just a random thing I felt like writing....I've been really preoccupied by the concept of growing up lately....It seems like the more I think about it, the faster time goes. So I try not to think about it, but that's like trying not to think about something when someone commands you not to. It just doesn't work.

Sorry. She was sorry. Sorry that when she looked in the mirror, she saw someone older than she expected. In her mind's eye, she saw her five-year-old self, puzzled and hurt by the neglect she was showing to the setting world of her childhood.

But it was inevitable. The days--they just slipped, she couldn't help it, they just got away from her, leaked out of her tightly cupped hands. She wanted to find the source, use one hand to stopper time, wherever it began, and use her other hand to reach out to the girl of her past, the girl being left behind, the girl being locked away--alone in a world of magic, vibrant colors, and childish secrets meant to be whispered into attentive ears, not brokenly mumbled into empty air. But she was too far gone, the time was too late.

There once was a time she was sure who she was, when some magic, and dreams, and her faith was enough. There once was a day she hoped she'd become a hero like in the cartoons she'd so devotedly watched, when she thought she'd rise up and unfold her wings. But she grew and changed, the world changed, time was moving, moving along, pushing and nudging her towards new dreams, more realistic and cold hopes, more logical and precise wishes. It nudged so far into cold and rationality that that the dreams, hopes, and wishes soon became "goals"--stony pellets and shells that encased her soft, glittering, childish heart. Goals closed her eyes with exhaustion when years ago she'd spent her nights intently staring at the ceiling sprinkled with glow-in-the-dark stars from Toys-R-Us. Back then, the ceiling had been the whole galaxy and beyond.

Sorry. She was so sorry. Sorry to her reflection, sorry for hating that awkward girl in the mirror. Sorry to the past, sorry for locking it away. And sorry to herself, because she was stuck, in between. Between the child who had to be forgotten in order to survive the new obstacles time brought, and the adult she feared becoming--the adult who embodied dullness, faithlessness, and utter cynicism.