Lost Art

When I look back on old poems and stories I used to write, I’m always amazed at how easily the words flowed out. No matter how clichéd or melodramatic my words were, it always felt like they came naturally. I was only 16. Today I am an adult who has experienced many of the things I wrote about as a teenager with a wild imagination and yet writing a poem, even on this insignificant blog, seems like a daunting task. I feel as though the years of AP english and college essays have made me cold to the idea of dreaming and creative writing.

I miss it so much.

I thought about starting another writing blog and making it more mature, more thoughtful this time around. But looking back all the journals I never finished, all the blogs I neglected, all I need to do is write, and write on. Old posts here serve as a reminder of how much I loved this art and how much I’ve grown since. New posts here will document my journey.

There’s no better place than here, no better time than now – here’s to new new beginnings.

obscurity: great for poetry, not-so-great for reality

people these days (myself included) are unable to cut to the chase without lengthy, grandiloquent metaphors and drawn out analogies. ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’ doesn’t have to be prefaced with a Nick Sparks novel, you know.

What do we become, where do we go?

Death terrifies the life out of me. I simply refuse to believe we vanish off the face of this beautiful Earth.

here and now

I would love to live by these three words for the rest of my life. Life is so incredibly fragile; stop hoping for the future – it’s not a race to the end.

There’s no better place to be than here, and now. 

boston blues

This world is drowning itself in sadness. It feels like we slip in and out of this cycle of continuous anger, grief, sadness, and hopelessness.

What’s agonizing is that the Boston bombing isn’t the last of our troubles. Inevitably, there will be more attacks threatening to disarm the integrity of this country and harm innocent civilians. There is bound to be more conflict, more death, more heartache.

How many years until our expiration date?

sweetheart

She was a hopeless romantic; she was a sucker for cute boys in summer polos who smiled and held open doors.

She was a dreamer up until the day she discovered that she wanted to fall helplessly in love. She clung on to promises too tightly and she believed too easily and she loved too quickly. She needed something of substance but she craved a temporary fix.

Love was a word you threw around to satiate the emptyness beneath her rib cage and when she finally broke into a smile you packed your bags and got the hell out of town.

the interview

I had an internship interview today and it went horribly. I thought I’d sympathize with the interviewer and try to see things from his perspective.

Hello, it’s great to meet you. Why don’t you take a seat right here.
(I have better things to do with my time, you ungrateful shit. Sit the fuck down and make this fast because I don’t have all day.)

Why did you choose to apply to our company?
(Feed me lies about how great this firm is.)

To this point, what has been your biggest challenge?
(I often obtain a sadistic form of self-satisfaction from watching you squirm as you try to think of something that won’t make you seem like a complete loser.)

What are some accomplishments that you are proud of?
(I swear to god if your awards-and-accolades monologue goes over 2 minutes I will personally punch you in the face.)

What are some skills that you think make you valuable to our company?
(Be honest, you suck at everything, don’t you? But in all seriousness, don’t go too crazy because there’s only room for one BAMF in here.)

Who do you aspire to become like in the future?
(“Steve Jobs”, “The Pope” or “Morgan Freeman” will probably get you blacklisted in each and every organization you apply to hereafter.)

Thank you so much for coming out today! If you have any further questions or concerns, feel free to email me.
(Make sure your follow-up letter doesn’t reek of desperation.)

Goodbye.
(Don’t let the door hit your undergrad ass on the way out.)

the lost generation

I live in a society where first impressions mean absolutely everything. Within the first 4 seconds of walking into a room, they’ve seen it all – how pretty you are, your rung on the social ladder, whether to systematically categorize you as an “it girl” or a “misfit”. As an unsubstantial member of Planet Earth, I am a victim of heredity. Throughout adolescence, my pale, acne-scarred face and I have had countless adults approach me with the perfectly good intent of hindering my cynicism.

“Beauty is on the inside,” they say. But beauty is only skin deep.

Let us not sugarcoat the truth for the sake of sparing the feelings of tween girls who are already so unequivocally lost in their own insecurities. Instead, let’s tell them that this society judges you based on what what you wear and the balance on your Visa. Let’s tell them that as human beings we are materialistic, ravenous, ruthless, and that our morality is comparable to the depth of a kiddie pool. Lastly, let’s tell them not to crave beauty in its pretentious magnificence, but to dream of fostering strength.

To be beautiful is to be well-loved. To be strong is to take their doubts and their apprehension and to build your own kingdom on the outskirts of town.

starstruck

In honour of Earth Day yesterday, I went outside to stargaze and I came back in feeling so indescribably lucky to be alive. Earth is a barren wonderland up North, devoid of pollution, sin, humanity. It’s pitiful to think that not even a million fluorescent light bulbs could replace the luminescence of a blistering, scintillating star.

New York and LA took my breath away, but it was Orion who stole my heart.

Punxsutawney Phil

UPDATE: So this legal case may be a joke – not funny, Gmoser, not funny.

In recent news, Ohio prosecutor Mike Gmoser is trying his best to indict this adorable rodent for wrongly predicting an early spring.

The fact that a groundhog could be sentenced to death for unknowingly playing his part in a silly human tradition is incomprehensible to me. Is ‘the misrepresentation of early spring’ a legitimate felony? It’s truly pitiful that Ohio residents have to see their tax dollars put to use funding yet another moronic trial.

What the hell has our world come to?