The Oracle

It was during the time of great turmoil, when mysticism of the past collided with logic and reasoning of the present, that the great Crystal Ball shattered. The common men was gifted with the enormous power of foreseeing the future. For some time men rejoiced, giving thanks to whatever deity they believed to be responsible for this charity. They thought with this great knowledge, they could prevent and preempt whatever disasters that could come their way.

However knowledge did not bring wisdom. Chaos ensued as people tried advancing their own lives through their newly acquired vision. The world simply ground to a halt when every single action by any single person caused the cascading effects that alters the behaviors of everyone else, which in turn caused more cascading effects that continued this vicious cycle. Civilization was caught in some kind of paradox and was on the brink of collapse. That was when he came.

No one knew where he came from. No one knew his name. No one knew anything about him. Since the beginning, people knew him only as the Oracle.

Combining the mysticism of the past and logic and reasoning of the present, he was able to convince most people to give up the vision they acquired or for the few selfish ones who refused, their existence was ceased at once. Piece by piece, country by country, the Oracle was able to restore order to civilization. He was regarded as a god, an all powerful being sent down to save mankind from their greed and stupidity. People gathered around him wherever he went. They worshiped him. They sacrificed their animals to him. They even knelt to him and kissed his feet. Seeing what’s going on around him, the Oracle simply laughed in disgust and vanished into thin air.

He was never to be seen again.

A Lawn Story

I was just out mowing the lawn, minding my own business. Oh how joyful it was going full throttle with no one yelling at you for going too fast. Along with the cooler evening air blowing against my face, I was easily hypnotized by the rhythmic roar from the engine. It was a perfect Summer evening, until Johnny came out of nowhere in front of me. I slammed on the breaks and almost flew off the tractor.

“Are you crazy Johnny!? I could’ve hit you!” For the first time in a long while I was screaming.

“You stay away from Lisa! I swear I will hurt you!” He said rather threatenly.

Imagine the surprise I had on my face.

“Who do you think you are Johnny!? You don’t go about threatening people around here! Lisa is MY girlfriend! She is mine! You want to die!?” I said in a harsh tone, “get the fuck out of the way before I slap the shit out of you!” I turned off the tractor and approached him.

“Don’t tarch me madafarckar!” And he jumped me.

“HEY DON’T FUCKING BITE ME! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“I love Lisa! I love Lisa so marrrcchhh! I’ll do everything for her.” His voice trailed off.

“Lisa is my girlfriend you little shit!”

I raged. I grabbed him and overpowered him. I threw Johnny on the ground and started punching and kicking and stomping him. Like a mad dog, I kept on punching and kicking and stomping him until I was drained of my strength.

I spat at Johnny’s dead body, now lay disfigured and contorted, “don’t fucking mess with me!”

That’s when I heard a feminine voice behind me. The voice was shaking and cold, “why did you do that! Why did you kill Johnny! I loved Johnny! I loved him!”

I turned and I saw her. I stood motionless, I was gazing at her and guilt soon overtook me.

“I...I...I...You must be new around here or else I would’ve...I...Are you...are you...Li”

“I’M LISA!” And she too jumped me.

Another round of struggle ensued.

***

At the end of the day, the world is safer with two less spiders.

An Image

You don't want us to look, yet you are showing off more and more of your skin.
You don't want us to judge, yet your list of ex is growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. You don't want us to notice just your curves, yet you are making it harder and harder not to do so. Instead you want us to praise your more subtle features, like that one special eyelash you meticulously painted purple. You want us to appreciate you for your inner beauty, even though it is uglier still underneath. You want, you want, you want! You can go on wanting, but your sense of fashion highlights anything but. It is uncontrollable, like fear. It's primal. It's instinct. It's human. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry that I want to increase the survival chances for our species?

I remember the occasion when you confronted me about the issue. You were angry, hysterical. You were hissing and snarling. Like a starving beast having caught itself an unsuspecting deer. You grabbed me and were on the verge of biting my head off. You wouldn't let go of me until you've made clear of yourself that it was style, a sense of fashion, and that was it, nothing more. I tried. I wrecked my brain trying. Believe me, I'm still trying to this day, but I still haven't gotten any closer in understanding or seeing any correlations between looking fashionable and looking like an on-call prostitute. I wouldn’t have minded if you said that was the look you were going for. You could’ve called it anything other than fashion and I wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want to face the truth and realize how trashy of a person you are.

However the confrontation did bring me a new understanding of you as a person. Underneath that facade of yours, there is something lurking about. Perhaps it is some flaws you don’t want others to see. Perhaps you know how to do something that nobody else does. Perhaps you do have something that sets you apart from all the others, in a good way, but you keep it buried. You don’t want to stand out, you want to blend in, and somehow, you are doing it by standing out. You gossip, you taunt, you create dramas. You do all of that so you don’t fall victim to any of that. Or so you believe.

I’ve always wondered. Do you not get tired of worrying all those problems every second you are awake? Do you not realize eventually you’ll have to leave without enjoying a life that could be full of joy instead of fear you create? Do you not just want to throw it all away and for the first time, look and act as yourself? There is an entirely new world outside of the shell you are now hiding in. There exists people who will think highly of you because you are different, instead of knocking you down. Be yourself, your real self, but you should also be aware. Be aware of the kind who tell you that you are unique (or as the yearbook team had ever so uniquely spelled it, you-nique). They are those who will do everything they can to squash you like a bug for being different. I’m pretty certain you have a lot of experiences with those people as you’ve been an integral part of that group. Realize that you are not unique. You are just like everyone else, muddling through life, another piece to the puzzle that will never get solved.

For years you’ve fought for something so great, a fantasy, a dream. In that dream you see yourself rich and glamorous, where boys chase you like how the wealthy chases wealth. For years you've been fighting to achieve that dream. Society has mislead you into thinking you are close, but in reality, you are merely a reflection of absurd societal images. You are like an overly decorated vase, fragile and flawed, always in danger of shattering into million little pieces, impossible to put back into a recognizable form.

I feel sorry for you, but then again, I can’t say you don’t feel the same for me.

A Violent Benevolence

They had long forecasted that it would come. They tried to warn us of the dangers of being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. They tried to warn us of the viciousness of what is coming. They tried to warn us. They tried to warn us over the radio, the TV, the Internet. You see, they really did try to warn us.

However they still failed at convincing me that it would come. It was my own observation that convinced me that they are making it sound like a big deal, like they do most of the time. I had gone through the day without seeing a hint of what was coming when all the while I was expecting it. It was anticlimactic. It was disarming. It was, reassuring.

 It began with a blinding and deafening show of lightning and thunder. Like the July 4th fireworks, the sky was in constant state of illumination. Illuminated by a firework show that for a while, seemed to last forever. It was somewhat terrifying but mostly annoying. It interrupted the radio, forced it to highlight every flash and bang with a loud crackle of static. It woke me up from my sleep, kept me awake through the show. It went off just outside my house, almost destroyed the window in my room. I was startled. I was shaken. All of a sudden I was aware. Aware of what was happening, aware of my stupidity, aware of the darkness surrounding me.

 And then the heaven let loose. Let loose its benevolence on the earth below.

 For the entire night and morning the rain came down pouring, quenching the earth thirsty for the sweet waters from above. The earth rejoiced, grasses stood tall and unyielding, flowers bloomed vibrantly, and animals joined for drinks by the puddles. A deadly boring and oppressive summer scene was instantly shattered by this falling of water. This showing of mercy. This bringing of life.

So life it shall bring. Life it shall bring to all of us rendered lifeless long ago. Bring life back to us who have been waiting for something to break this heat. Bring life back to us who have been waiting for something to cleanse the gray ashes on every house. Bring life back to us who think life here has become dull and tiresome.

So wash our city clean! Wash our cars clean! Wash our spirits clean! I'll be grading your benevolence on the way our city shines, on the way my reflection looks, on the way all of us smile.

One Last Chance

Us seniors’ last day of school is tomorrow, May 31st. Tomorrow will mark the end of slumbering through the day and of having to ask for permission to use the restroom. Tomorrow will mark our first day of freedom, if only for a little while for most of us, but at least we will be ourselves. True to who we are.

Tomorrow, the beast underneath all of us will be released. Finally a time and place to set free our true potentials. If you are thinking of something noble like finding a cure for cancer, I’ll tell you to forget it right now, because tomorrow we’ll be in the school parking lot. Armed with colorful water filled projectiles and shaving cream, we’ll fight each other battle royal style. We won’t stop until only one of us remains standing. Tomorrow our angers will get physical. Teachers and the administration be warned, you’ll be revenged upon for the four years of shit you have shoved down our throat. You’ll get pied in the face and have water balloons thrown at only the most uncomfortable place. Our level of anger toward you will be measured by the force we put behind the balloons and the amount of cream in the pies.

I’m certain, among all the joy and lighthearted pranks, tomorrow will also be a day of sorrow. There will be tears shed for close friends and awesome teachers as we bid farewell to each other. There will be many instances where we won’t be able to separate ourselves from our embracements, but in the end, as much as we don’t want to, we will have to let each other go. We might find ourselves separated far from each other after tomorrow, but no matter the distance of the separation, the strong bonds we had forged through four years of shared suffering and cruel jokes will stand the test of time. No one else in this world will understand you and me as much as we do each other, it will be childish and selfish of us to think and act otherwise.

Perhaps in the past four years I've done something stupid that had pushed you away from me. Perhaps in the past four years you've also done something stupid that had pushed me away from you, but I’m sure in the end, none of that will ever matter. You will forgive me as I will forgive you and certainly we will be best buddies again. This time it will be without the absurdity of an adolescent mind. A cookie shall never be again given the power to make or break our friendship. I promise.

In ten years when we meet again, I hope that you will have already have achieved your dreams. Maybe you want to be an astrophysicist, a doctor or perhaps even an evil billionaire. Whatever it is that you dreamt to have achieved, I sincerely hope that you would have it accomplished by then. In ten years when we have our class reunion, I would like to center our conversation around our success stories. About how you screw the other guy over. About how you came out of the pack fine and others not so lucky.

Anyhow, that is still in the distant future and today we still have unfinished business. Tomorrow we shall offer the one last embrace we owe each other. Tomorrow we shall shed the one last tear on each other’s shoulders. Tomorrow we shall give the one last “because we are friends, therefore I’ll slap you in the face” to each other. Because after tomorrow, we might not have the chance to do any of it again.

Class of 2013, I wish you guys all the best. You guys ROCK!

The End of the Road

When Robbie said to me last September that my final year of high school will be over before I know it, I was like “yea yea, I know exactly what you’re talking about”. Looking back on it, I realized how silly I must have been to think that I know what exactly what Robbie meant. It wasn't until messages like “honors night, yay!” or “when one door closes, another one opens :)” slowly fill up my Facebook feed when I finally realized the year is coming to a close. I was caught by complete surprise, but then I remember I had already been warned, I just didn't listen. I guess Robbie was correct when he said his comment was going to be dismissed as an old man’s ramblings. My apologies, it wasn't intentional.

Nevertheless, here I am, caught at the border between what my peers like to call freedom and prison. I myself would like to give them a slightly more realistic view but they would shoot back with surprise in their face and a “You are weird!”. From their expressions, I think what they mean is “fuck off, I don’t care”. Never mind that, I’m a firm believer that people should have the right to think for themselves. It will be their problem, not mine.

I've been told I’m a cynical person, but I would say that I’m realistic. Too realistic perhaps. I've never been part of the those who try so hard to receive a piece of paper recognizing their time wasted. Even in disapproval, I do envy how easily they can be possessed by genuine joy and pride. To be completely honest, I can’t say I haven’t done the same. After all we just waste time in different ways. The difference between us is that I don’t need a piece of paper saying that I did it.

On a happier note, high school will soon be over. Soon I’ll cross the finish line. Soon I’ll start working at my internship. Soon I’ll start on a new 4 year track.

Soon, life will bitch slap me in the face.

Something From My Senior Project

As if our lives aren't miserable enough, our district forces us seniors to do a project that will make or break our grade in a class that is necessary for graduation. Fortunately the English department of the high school I attend decided that instead of writing research papers and involuntarily volunteering 30 plus hours, all we had to do is to create a website.

The website we are tasked to create must contain 5 pages: a home page, a blog page, a community outreach page, a resume page, and a portfolio page. Having to answer questions like "If you had to describe yourself as a cartoon character, which one would it be" and "Name three things that you would like to achieve within the next decade", the home page gave me a giant headache. Are we still in elementary school where they're trying to teach us to be narcissists?

The experience with the home page questions made me certain that the blog questions will just kill me; they must be answered with at least 6 sentences. I thought "whatever, I'll just fail it" but then I realized that I couldn't just fail it. Doing so will mean that I have to go through senior year again in a high school I'm dying to get out of. 

"I am just going to give them a steaming pile."

Or so I thought.

"Solving the riddles with such legitimacy that not even I can comprehend." -Me

***

How can I effectively express my opinions and perspectives?

Some people do it with music and dance. Some people do it with poetry and writing. Effectively expressing one's opinions and perspectives is very easy. There are T-shirts with messages, logos and mottos. There is also the internet of course, where writing a blog can be an effective way of expressing your opinions and perspectives. However, I do believe that in order for other people to listen to you. In order to express your opinions effectively, you cannot be too forceful and must listen and understand other people's opinions.

How can I use my talents to create new opportunities for myself and others?

Creating new opportunities for yourself and others might sound like a daunting task, but it can be as simple as writing down your observations and asking a question. Perhaps you may not have the knowledge to answer the question yourself, but if the right person comes around and has the ability to elaborate upon it, things like anti-matter (particles that destroy matter) can result from it. Newton had definitely proved this point to be true with his observation and questioning of why would an ordinary apple fall and hit him. (How mean of the apple?) This simple act had brought us our electricity, mobile phones and the internet. Granted it wasn't Newton who had invented those, but it was his talents that had created opportunities for others to improve upon it, which lead to an increase of standards of life for the populace.

It might at first sound difficult, but creating opportunities for yourself and others can be as simple as being an observant person.

What qualities define a good world citizen?

To be a good world citizen, it is of utmost importance for you to understand that the world doesn't revolve around you. You must be aware that there are people who are like you and there are also people who are drastically different from you. Not everybody thinks the way you do and being a good world citizen means that you would have to listen and understand them. Although you don't necessarily have to agree with them. By doing this, many unnecessary disagreements and heated exchanges between different cultures can simply be avoided, enabling society to advance into the future unhindered. Into the future full of promises.

***

Are they all not legitimate? I spent way more time on this then I thought I would have. Fifteen minutes turned into thirty minutes. From thirty minutes it turned into an hour. After three and a half hours, it was finally done!

What do you think of it? I'm particularly proud of that euphemism. ;P

Big Dave

"Are you kidding me!?"

"Nobody is kidding you!" Big Dave screamed.

Puzzled by Big Dave's outburst, Tanner reached for his gun, in case anything should happen. All of a sudden, Big Dave's demeanor changed. He is calm, relaxed, like a leopard tracking its pray, waiting patiently for the opportunity to go in for the kill. Sensing the change, Tanner drew out his gun with a sleight of hand, but he was already too late, a bullet had entered his brain long before.

Big Dave chucked coldly as he puts his gun away.

"No no."

*****

It's a relaxed day in math class. Jokes are being passed around lightheartedly, not all were school appropriate in the strictest definition, but Big Dave couldn't care less.

"So Big Dave, if you could summarize your life into a song, what would the lyrics be?" A student asked jokingly.

Ever so calmly Big Dave smiled and said, "I'm a bad ass."

Family Business

[Some say that the pen is mightier than the sword. This is definitely a more peaceful way of revenge. :)]

He hated it when they yell at each other. The things they say to each other were so precisely crafted, they hurt like a slow knife, carving deep into the heart. Of course they would always call a truce few days later, but he often wonders how they can look each other in the eyes and accepts each other’s overused “I didn't mean it”. He knows that they meant it in some ways. He is certain that they know that they meant it too. Moreover the truces they've ever called were just rest spites during which they rearm themselves with even more cruel statements and the setting of moral traps for each other.

The fights are not easy for him to endure. When hostility commences, sooner or later, he would be dragged into it, assuming the position of a judge. He dreads the job, dreads to have to pick a side that is in the right. How can he? He loves his parents way too much to do anything to harm either one. Not to mention the fact that they both have very valid arguments that are, in their own ways, right.

He knew, of course, that if he is just brave enough to talk to his parents about it. Just by telling them how much their fighting upsets him, the ordeals would stop. He knew, also, that they both love him as much as he loves them. He knew that they would do whatever for him. Whatever that pleases him. He knew if nothing else, he can stop the arguments before they are passed the point of no return. Oh he knew, he is just not brave enough to take action, and he hates himself very much for it.

One night his worst nightmare came true. It was the war to end all wars. The most vicious one he has experienced by far from his parents. The volume of their voices stunned him. Not sure what to do, if anything at all, he locked himself in his room and crouched in a corner, and started shaking.

His mind was grasped by a sudden urge to run downstairs to stop them from going any further. It took a while, but he ultimately had picked himself up and dragged his body to the door. He cracked the door open, but slammed it shut almost as quickly as he had it opened. The sound of shattering glassware had hit him like a sledgehammer. He was knocked right back to the same corner where he was too slow to act.

“Coward!” he called himself as he plugs a pair of ear buds in. Feeling lost and not giving a fuck, he irrationally slides the volume bar all the way up.

His ears were pulsating with pain, but he could've cared less. A question drifted into his consciousness, he wonders if they are really oblivious to the fact that whatever they are doing hurts him. But he was too tired to think any longer. He soon fell asleep.

He woke up early next morning with a stream of blood running out of his ears. He laid there for awhile until he noticed the familiar sound of his mother making breakfast was missing. He repeated the phrase “hopefully it’s just my ears” as he dresses to check on his parents.

It was a cold February morning, quite beautiful too. A snowstorm came through just the night before, leaving the neighborhood a smooth white complexion. Outside the children awoke early building snowmen and making snow angels. Everything looked so serene and harmless, but if one was to look closer, he or she would've noticed the two freshly made tire tracks in place of the usually late waking Haldemans' van and a hint of red was splattered on the windows of the master bedroom. And perhaps one would've also noticed the emptiness of the house from which a faint but definitely audible scream came.

But the children were busy having fun and the adults even busier preparing for the long day ahead of them.

Good Bye 2012

Since I've not been very festive about the last few holidays, I might as well hitch a ride on the bandwagon into 2013 while the chance is still present.

***

2012. Pretty routine. Other than the load of tests I had to take in the middle of the year and the internship thing. It would also be my first time of experiencing betrayal.

For the internship, all of us have to do a tri-fold presentation. It wasn't the kind that you have to present in front of everyone, not that we'll have the time for that anyway. All the tri-folds were put out on the hallways of our school for the teacher parent conferences and open house, and was taken down right after. They really were just obstructions after they served their purposes, and they don't benefit us in any shape or form.

We were given three weeks to finish the project. It was difficult because I'm not very interested in making artsy shit like fancy poster boards that shoots fireworks. Art I like, but poster boards, that is so 3rd grade. Not to mention the only things I have to make art with at home were a pair of scissor, a bottle of glue and a pack of color pencils my cousin gave me seven years ago. I wasn't exactly in the shape of making anything artsy and a betrayal from my intern partner didn't do anything to help either.

That fucker agreed to work on this poster board with me when I asked him during the internship. His job was to take all the pictures for the poster board and we'll split the work equally among us. But on the day we were given the rubric he flatly denied to anything of the sort and stated that he will refuse to work with me because he paid for the pictures he took to be printed on nice photo paper. Prick.

***

Now that 2012 is behind us, shall all the memories connected to it be gone with it. Lessons learned will be forgotten, emotions felt will be suppressed, shits happened will be disregarded. Older, fatter, more mature. I don't expect 2013 to be any different from 2012. Stupid worthless projects will still be given. Another Chlamydia outbreak at my school. And more the DOs and DON'Ts from our counselors.

(I'm still curious as to how exactly did the proper authorities found out about the outbreak.)

2013 will be the same, or as my friend had eloquently put it, "Same shit different year".

To stay festive: Happy new year to you all! Have a great 2013!

Dense Fog

The last few days started out blurry. Dense fog lingered deep into the afternoons, giving the world an unusual but supernatural appearance.

Almost everyday I wake when most of the world is still asleep in their beds. When no sounds were made by people or animal. No lights from the streetlights or the rising sun. When it was just me, alone in the dark, wandering and struggling to find my way through the thick cobweb to the bus stop.

I felt alone. The last man in the world. Concerns of the living and the dead seem to matter less and less. It was just me, trying to reach a destination for a purpose. Soon the sounds of passing car engines faded into the background and the destination and the purpose also waned.

I turned around as if someone had called. I looked afar, the fog was observed to glow a ghostly white. Straight dark lines stood there in an orderly fashion, as if I was looking into some great forest. Or perhaps they were the silhouettes of the dead, my ancestors. Could they have been looking at me, sizing me up?

I wondered if I've lived up to their expectations or if they knew what the future holds. But I was scared to ask. Scared to believe in the supernatural. And above all, I was scared to find out. But even if I had pull together my strengths, how would I've asked? I didn't even know their names. In the mass gathering of spirits, I was reluctant to embarrass them.

They read my mind as it appeared. Two bright dots began to come toward me. Am I ready to find out the truth, I pondered. I thought my answers were going to get answered, answered by the all knowing spirits that live in the other kingdom. I thought my deepest secrets were uncovered, laid bare in front of the mind readers. I also thought of many other things, but they shall remain buried. I was hoping for a chance to say sorry to my grandpa.

The lights flew passed me and a stroke of yellow followed.

"F***!" and I started running.

Autumn

A cold breeze had picked up, carrying away with it the last of the leaves from the almost bare branch.  In the corner a twister had spun into existence. Twisting all alone, like a dancer without the appreciation of its partner. And up in the sky the clouds hang lowly, shutting out the much loved golden rays originated from some 93 million miles away. For days it would linger, dampening everyone’s spirit and creates a depressing but fitting mood. And the tide is also turned against day on the eternal battle between it and night. Autumn came with force, even the strongest of the weeds are now bending under its wrath.

Out here in the suburb, the temperature would differ significantly from the forecasted one; colder, most of the time. The lively sidewalks once filled with screaming children and horrified squirrels are now cold and desolated. The once lush and soft lawn where the same children and their pets loved to play on is now stiff and colorless from the cold. Off to the side, the dried fallen leaves and its rotten versions are now making a disgusting but yet flowery smell. Autumn is a quiet season, even the anomaly Halloween causes this year was suppressed by its cold.

However autumn will soon come to past, replacing it will be winter. Soon the smell of wood smoke will perfume the neighborhood and permeates into everyone’s house, uncovering the defects in the claimed to be perfect insulation. Soon the first snow fall will come, covering everything in an innocent white. The imperfections we all possess will be hidden. And just for a while, we’ll all drop our cloaks and be our real selves. Naked and clean.

Soon, everything will change. Decisions made hundreds of miles away will arrive and my dreams will either come true, or stay as ridiculous wishes and left to be forgotten.

Soon, I will find out.

Now You Know

[My first "serious" poetry, wouldn't have done it unless was homework. I copied it straight out of my homework, so hopefully said programs (there are supposedly programs that would comb through the web to find if we plagiarized our homework from somewhere, nice lie) won't find this and cause me to have a conference with my teacher... I highly doubt it though.]


Born crying,
Without a dream,
And without a goal,
But my life went on.

Made troubles,
Sometimes silly,
And sometimes severe,
But they asked for it.

The water wasn’t friendly,
So weren’t the diseases,
It was a treacherous journey,
But I survived.

I fret,
I weep,
And sometimes curse,
When told to describe myself.
Perhaps I'm a still stranger to myself.

And The Torturing Begins

It felt like it was just yesterday that I was awoken by the sound of my radio and swore because of sleep deprivation. It was just last year that summer actually felt like it took three months to pass, but this year it went by so fast that it felt as if I’ve gone to bed on the first day of summer break and woke up already to a new school year. To whoever that is controlling the passing of time, please don’t mistakenly hit the fast forward button again next year.

Even though there was a million reasons for me to just shut the radio off and go back to sleep, but the routine must continue. As a creature of habit my morning was always the same, and it never would change. I woke up, got dressed, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast, and rushed off to my bus stop. I assumed that no one was going to be at the bus stop and I’ll have to stand there all alone by myself, but for once I was glad to be wrong.

Happiness overcame me when I saw my friends. I was expecting them to look somewhat different like how it had always happened, but puberty failed me expectations. I should’ve known that by the time when people made it to the last year of high school, they would’ve grown out of it and stop changing at such rapid paces. People looked the same, teachers looked the same. Other than the two different teachers I’m stuck with for the year and the congestions the new guys created in the hallway, nothing else hinted the beginning of a new school year.

The new guys reminded me of well, me. The confusion, the fear, I know it all too well. But I’m a senior this year, which gave me the right to slap the books off of the little children’s hands and walk away laughing or perhaps trip them up and gift them a few smashes in the face. I’m sure they will appreciate that, right? How can a decent human being deprive one of happiness and self esteem?

Oh the ironies.

Legs, Not Fins

I don't know how to swim, I don't care to learn how to swim, and if you think I should do so otherwise please leave me your address so I can send a giant F to you. There is a reason why we were born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of our body. There is a reason why we have lungs, not gills. There is also a reason why we have the ability to consume marine creatures and thankfully, not the other way around.

Admitting this was hard, as a stranger, as a friend, or even as an anonymous blogger on the internet*. Other than my parents and now you, no one else know about my lack of interest in swimming. Living in a society where 11 out of 10 people know how to swim, admitting that you don't know how to do so is almost the same as admitting that you are somehow inferior to the others. Just watch a few of the recent Olympic games if you disagree. Why do people strive to achieve so much when in the end, it all means nothing. You might have made your mark in history, but give it a week, your existence will mean nothing for another four years and a crappy worthless medal is all that is left. Not to mention that out of a pool of able body only the lucky few will make it to the end and most will just suffer from the pain while gaining nothing. No pain no gain? So is much pain no gain.

Even though I don't know how to swim, at least I tried learning the how-tos. When I was little my dad quite often takes me to the pool, but I have never managed to stay afloat without the bubble. Back then I was rather underweight, but it appeared that I like to sink as if I were grotesquely overweight instead. I guess I was not biologically up for these kind of activities, but then again I was born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of my body. After a while my dad realized that I didn't appreciate swimming very much and stopped taking me to the pool.

Not long after, something happened. Probably could've taken my life if I didn't make a huge splash sound in the process. It was embarrassing to recall what had happened actually. I was out on a picnic trip with my family and some friends. We arrived at this one remote looking place with fruit trees all around. There were apples, oranges, pears, and other exotic fruits, all within arm's length. All of us were drawn towards this fruit forest, but my attention was soon captured by an out of place circle structure somewhat obscured by the trees.

The structure was about two meters tall and probably the same length in diameter. At first I thought it was a well but it was lacking a roof. A girl, who was maybe a year younger saw me and also came over to this well to investigate. Both of us climbed up to the top, and looked into it. The well was half filled with water with a large population of plankton, which gave the water a slime green color similar to the color of the tiles that lined the inside of this well. Of course for being such a observant fellow I was back then, I was arguing with the girl that the well was dry and that what she correctly thought was water was just green tiles.

She had none of it and claimed that there are even green snakes in the well.

"Are you stupid? The well is dry, if there are snakes down there we can probably see it! Fine I'll prove it to you that it's just tiles!"

I judged the height to be sure that I could climb back out and I jumped right in.

I was stunned instantly, physically as well as emotionally. I was almost completely submerged in the slime green water and I couldn't see a thing, it was thick with plankton. I was about to panic but one thought took hold of me. Something my mom once told me, "if you take a deep breath and hold it, you will float." For obvious reasons I didn't take the life saving(or ending) deep breath, but I didn't dare let my last breath to escape me either. I didn't struggle for air, like they do in the movies. Finally slowly and surely, I began to float toward the top and was able to see the sky, but I still couldn't breath. For what it seemed to be an eternity, I lay submerged in the water and thinking that I finally learnt how to swim(or at least how to float).

A few more eternities went by and my vision began to blur and darken, but help came at last. I heard a low murmuring voice and I did exactly it told me to do, to put out my hand.

"Huurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I gasped for air.

***

For the rest of the day while the adults and other children were having fun grilling and eating the fruits they found, I was busy trying to pick out the dried plankton in my ears and nostrils.



*There is no such thing as anonymity on the internet.

When the Egg Sticks to the Nonstick Skillet

I held such high hopes when my mom announced their arrival in August of last year. I was thrilled, overjoyed, and out of my mind; or as my mom called it - behaviors only to be found in insane asylums. Whatever mom.

I didn't get this excited for no reason, she was a long lost friend. After I moved to Michigan, seven years have gone by without any communication. We went to the same school together and lived in a close proximity, I guess the latter was the reason why I visited her so often. Now that I look back at it, our parents were unreasonably close friends as opposed to "good morning, you" kind of relationships. Suppose they also had high hopes of us getting serious with each other. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there wasn't free access to pornography, or else we would've gotten serious. Too much for the liking of our parents though.

However about two years ago they've also emigrated and settled in Maine with her uncle. They weren't exactly having the best time of their life, she said they were conned into staying there with their uncle. Her dad left for home, her mom worked long hours in the restaurant, from day break util stars twinkle in the night sky. All the while she was struggling with school because of the language barrier and was forced to help in the restaurant with whatever spare time she has left. From what my mom told me, it didn't sound like they liked it very much over there.

"Why don't we invite them over for a visit ma?"

My mom agreed and so did my dad and we soon formulated a flawless plan to help them if they do decide to live here, the visit was just a way to show them how nice it was over here. We were too nice back then.

Undoubtedly expectations didn't translate well into reality. I was still excited when my mom and I picked them up at the airport. Her physical appearance didn't deviate too much from what I had imagined but she was a little shy. Okay I can understand that, tired, overwhelmed, shocked; I've thought of every imaginable possibilities to explain her lack of talkativeness to convince myself that she is still the person I knew.

As days gone by I've discovered that she was a lot less intelligent than what I thought she would be, a lot less. Total lack of common sense and not capable of carrying out intellectual discussions about anything useful. Out of all the other things she could've done, she does exactly the ones that fueled the anger inside me. She is either dumb, clueless, ignorant, or all of the above. But I managed to keep the fire contained, with a lot of effort of course. I couldn't wait for the last day to come.

It was such relief when it did came. When they disappeared into the crowd, my mom and I acted as if we had won the lottery. We were smiling and cracking jokes all the way from the airport to home. We couldn't help ourselves, we were too happy and so was my dad. He described it as having the giant cactus off his back.

Ever since that week, I forcibly cut off all kinds of communication with her established during the first few days of her visit. I blocked her account on my instant messenger, closed my email account and pretended to be busy when they called. And I didn't feel bad about doing any of it.

Just the other day, my mom told me that our family had dinner together few years ago when we went back for a visit. Funny how I had no memory of it. Suppose my subconsciousness knew all along how much I hated her.

Poll

You can also find this same poll under Random Poll page.

I always get readers after I made new posts, but strangely I just don't seem to get any reader interactions. So a poll was created to help me figure out why. Please be honest, selecting any of the answer will not hurt me in any way.

The Perfect Day

There is no way to beat a day like today. The fine balance between hot and cold, the yin and the yang, has been achieved after a torturous streak of 80 plus days.

You can probably tell that I don't like the heat that much, that's why my mom calls me crazy because she thinks that I hate summer. But I like summer, I love summer in fact. It's the only season where everything is alive. You have squirrels navigating the yard with tree nuts int their mouth, the occasional rabbits nibbling on my mom's vegetables, geese squawking across the sky. I sometimes like to chase the animals, just for the fun of it, but the lush grass fields makes it almost impossible to track them after just a few meters.

Summer is a lively season, a likable season, I have yet to find a person who will say that he or she absolutely hates it. But despite all the good summer brings, I despise it. I despise it because of the one thing it brings, heat.

I've never quite figured out the exact reason why I don't like the heat, perhaps it's because of bad childhood experiences with tropical heat. I use to live in a more tropical zone than I do now, and wasn't too far away from the coast. Back then when summer comes, there is no escaping the heat and the moisture. There were times when we had to close all the windows and doors to keep the moisture out because the wind decided to come blowing in from the south, carrying all the water form the ocean. Even then with our apartment almost sealed off from the outside world, water droplets still formed on the walls inside.

And then there are times when wind and clouds just become theoretical concepts, days can go by without any of those, all the while with temperature readings at 90 plus. Back then, when summer comes along, the only thing that was on people's mind are to wish for a hurricane to come, preferably for it to make landings on their heads. The climate made the place felt like as if it wasn't for humans.

When my family moved here to Michigan, which is located somewhat in a northern climate zone, I was thrilled. No more do I have to deal with the summer heat! But you see, I was wrong, like I'm with most things most of the time. Every summer, especially with the more recent ones, I experience more and more 90 plus days. Lucky for me today, after a disappointing night with none of the forecast storms, a cold front pushed through.

I woke up early this morning when the birds go off on their screeching competition that never failed to get my attention instead of a more desirable female bird's. I ventured out to the yard with a cup of hot tea in my hand. The air felt comfortable, without its usual heavy humid feel. The day is cool, with a constant breeze blowing in from the north. The gentle touch of the sweet smelling air gave me goosebumps and it reminded me of a picnic I had with my parents when I was little. The childish me, careless and still learning what made the world turn. I was reminded of the time when I was at the beach, my cousin had recently sent me a picture me standing in the sand with both my arms flailing around. I was obviously happy, and naked (yes my friend Richard was visible if you are curious). Oh how much I want to go back and savor those days where I wasn't required to worry about the world around me. I felt stupid when I remembered saying that being older is being better. What a fail.

***

This is what all summer days should be like.

Internship Log Day 1

[So I was told to write a journal for everyday of my internship experience and have it emailed to my counselor. The following is directly copied out of the email. Enjoy.]

Today was incredibly boring, but I suppose it's my fault for holding such high expectations for an orientation day. Tanner and I spent most of our time reading and watching demos about their NX CAM software. It was said that doing so would make our lives easier later on. Sure, why not.

From the outside, the office building look quiet impressive, far bigger than any other office buildings I've ever been in. However, later on, I found out that only the two upper floors of the building that had a big blue "Siemens" sign on the front was actually dedicated to Siemens, and the first was for who knows what corporation(s). The office looked modern, almost a 100% match to what you see on TVs but with a little more space. The cubicles given to Tanner and I were quite large, the most accurate approximation I can give is it is about the size of a king sized bed attached parallel to another king sized bed that is cut in half lengthwise. We have more than enough space to feel comfortable, though I don't mind a chair that leans back a bit more.

When we first arrived our mentor took us a grand tour around the office. We were given our own id cards to get into the offices and was told of what we'll be doing over the next few weeks. If I understood him correctly, I would find myself spending the most splendid time since the beginning of this year, because the project that will be assigned to us originated in a customer's complain. It was something of importance, something the corporation had planned on putting on their next release of NX CAM but was bumped back because of other more important issues, not just some project to keep us occupied. For the first time since the beginning of this year, I feel somewhat important.

Got to be honest here, I felt a little nervous on the drive to Siemens. I shouldn't have been though, not after all the times that I had translated for my mom at her orientations. However my mentor was so much less intimidating than all the other ones that I've encountered over the years, and I was very much at ease after the handshake. I'm not sure exactly why he was so much less intimidating, perhaps it is because his tone of voice. He didn't seem to possess that overly deep "do as I say or I'll kill you" type of voice commonly seen in people with power.

I love that place.

A Strange Saturday

I exhausted all types of rituals I have ever known to prevent something from happening, and it happened to be a Saturday on this rare occasion. I performed dances, made prayers and shouted verbal threats. In the end, nothing worked.

I was still reeling from the weeklong sleep drought when my radio alarm blasted at me with murderous pop songs at six thirty. Absurd lyrics and obnoxious beats of such noise soon gave me a pulsating migraine. I opened my eyes to find the off button, but was thwarted by a blurred vision. Only then, did I actually know what it meant to be bleary eyed.

I guess I can’t blame anyone for my sufferings. It was, after all, my choice to violate the sacred pact of mankind to not wake early on weekends (does this makes me less human?). Nevertheless I have done so with the purpose of acquiring the key to unlock my dream. I just need to perform well on the two tests, easy enough. But the two tests just don’t seem to be willing to cooperate, they are more eager to end dreams than they are helping you to achieve it. To prepare for the onslaught, studying was given first priority, or so I thought.

Lacking self discipline and without a tradition of studying, it was downright impossible to get myself to set aside sometime to at least smell the study guide. I’ve had it for a month, but I’ve only put in about ten hours of studying time. About more than half of the time was accumulated the night before the test. As far as I was concerned, one can never properly prepare for a standardize test. You either know that stuff, or you don’t.

The late night studying didn’t help with my deprivation of sleep. Coupled with insomnia, I have only had about five hours of sleep before the examination. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing recommended by the testing agency. I woke up bleary eyed, got dressed and wobbled downstairs. With the TV buzzing in the background and coffee at arm’s length, I busied myself with iPad apps until it was time for me to leave for the test center.

The morning was bright enough to not have the headlight turned on. The Sun was up, though it was struggling to force through the clouds. It was a lost battle, however. The clouds were staged in a staggering formation and have more than adequate to cover the entire morning sky.

In all honesty I was a bit nervous, but as soon as I walked out the door, I felt alright.  The morning chill was comforting. It even lured the butterfly in my stomach out to dance in this refreshing air. I drove with the window all the way down and let the cold wind blow against my face. It felt good, slightly hypnotizing. And not long after, I had completely forgotten the reason why I was out driving.

I arrived at the testing center at last. They asked for my ticket and a photo id and as told a room number to go to. I obeyed.

***

“I should’ve studied more.”