Pine and Phoenix Feather

I luv ma momma.

SO MUCH that I’m writing ten pages on her for a class assignment.

d’awwwww

T_____________________________________T;;

All this inspiration with no way to imprint onto a piece of paper! 

I miss my sketchbook. I used to draw in it all the time, revisit old characters, make their lives a living hell or a slice of heaven depending on my mood of the day. Where did all that time go? I wish I could just drop everything, pick up a handful of crayons, and go nuts.

Kind of have this research paper in the way of me doing anything fun for a while.

It is SO WEIRD writing a research paper about your mom. Like, no kidding.

All-nighter after all-nighter after all-nighter…

I’m getting tired from not sleeping enough and tired of all these all-nighters. I’ve heard this isn’t the end of all this. More work to do over the summer, even more this next school year, tons more the several years that follow.

When is this ever going to stop? When can I sleep in peace again?

Good stuff.

I pass as a middle schooler anyway!

Today when I was walking back from class, I looked to my right at a pretty green lawn and saw a lone daisy-looking flower sprouting between the blades of grass. I think the flower came from a weed, but it nonetheless looked like something I wanted to take a picture of. This one pretty plant kind of just took away all my attention under this sun-shining day. I admired it for the fraction of a second that I was with it. I was kind of sad that I had to keep moving on, but I really really wanted to go back to my dorm so I could get the sleep I lost last night.

And then I looked up to the rest of the lawn. There were patches of these flowers all across the grass. They all caught me by surprise because I was only looking at the one I had just passed by. I thought that one was the only lovely little flower that made my day a little better. I didn’t see that there were so many others behind it.

I guess this just goes to show I short-sighted I can be. I focus too much on what’s in front of me and ignore the bigger picture, what’s left of it. Yeah, that flower was pretty nice, but so were the bajillion other ones behind it. Collectively, they make something that would’ve made me stand there for a bajillion times a fraction of a second. 

There are more fish in the sea, and more flowers in the grass.

What does it take to see how much time is left?

A number doesn’t speak much to me. Five minutes of sleep compared to five minutes of waiting feels different, even though they really aren’t.

To tell time, I’d just like to look at flowers. Certain flowers will bloom when the time is right, but they can only stay in full bloom with all its soft-colored petals attached for a finite period of time. 

There are these wonderful cherry trees that have blossomed in the past week. Sometimes, when you walk underneath their shade, you’ll get lucky and feel a gust of wind sweep a storm of petals around you. Underneath this pretty nature, my thoughts start to drift towards the pretty things that are flowing around me: hard work, inspiration, friendships, love. For some reason, these thoughts come in full bloom with these cherry blossoms.

And now, when I see that these cherry trees have changed in color, my reflections have changed. The trees, in short, have become less pretty, and the cherry blossoms are finished living their short time on these branches. A lot have fallen onto the ground, and their soft petals that were once with them are scattered. In place of flowers are leaves that are colored in a green that is harsher than the soft pinks these petals have. And somehow, as I walk under these same trees, I start thinking harsher too. On things that have gone wrong, things that I need to make correct again.

It is then when I finally see that nothing pretty lasts forever, but it’s all in good occurrence. If I didn’t have a harsh reality to contrast with these soft dreams that have come true, I don’t think these dreams would have felt so wonderful to me. Now that I’ve started to reflect on how those dreams felt, the answer is rather clear. There’s not much time left, and I’m nearing the end of this dream, just as sakura season is nearing its end. 

Mmmm. Or I could get a watch. And a calendar. Hahaha.

I feel so inspired to write a ton of stories, create worlds, run through people’s lives. I went to a used book store the other day, and I just had this overwhelming urge to buy every book that I picked up from the shelf that day (the limited cash in my wallet is what prevented me from doing that haha). I just want to be around stories, to travel to different places without having to leave my room!

Of course this happens in the wake of midterm season part 3, the busiest midterm season of them all! I hope this inspiration stays with me. I feel so spirited despite DEFINITELY not getting enough sleep. I’m so hyper!

I really really like Stephen Colbert too. Now THAT’S funny xD

There’s so much in the world I can’t even begin to understand.

I’m inside this bubble that my whole life has built around me. The bubble is completely held together by where I come from because my origin shapes everything I see and everything that is hidden to me. I can’t see some things because it’s always been cast in the shadows of everything good that’s happened to me, and everything I see is just never the whole picture.

Then again, that’s you too. It’s everyone, and I think that’s the most tragic part about all this.

I’ll never be able to really understand what the person who lived a life completely the opposite of me feels. Because I don’t understand what it’s like, it’s as if some person like that isn’t a person to me anymore.

And that’s really unfair and wrong because we’re all people. We all have feelings, dreams, aspirations, a heart. We have people that we love, people that we could probably live without, and people that we definitely could not live without. It’s just that a person is way to complex for anyone to get the whole picture, and the more you can’t relate to someone just because they lived differently than you, the more blinded we are of the picture. And that really, really stinks because the picture is always beautiful. 

I do love and appreciate the way I’ve been brought up. My parents worked really hard and overcame so many challenges to give the rest of the family opportunities that otherwise would not have existed. They make enough money to send me to a decent university without needing to pull out a loan. I got into that decent university that they’re paying for because they invested so much time and money in my education and future. And because I got into a decent university that is near where I live, they can come and see me just by driving in the cars they own for about an hour and a half. I mean, yeah, I think I had something to do with the fact that I got into this place, but where I grew up and the people that raised me has an overwhelmingly significant part in this too. Without them, I have no chance.

I wish I could see more, but it’s not easy. It’s not a matter of just watching a few more documentaries on poverty or developing countries. It’s not about just donating to a homeless person on the street or updating my status about helping out with some relief fund. It’s not about knowing that someone is starting to work right after high school while I’m on my way to graduate school. It’s not even about just freaking helping someone on some homework problem that I’ve already learned how to do some time in high school.

Even if I’m doing something to help or cry for the people that are hurt just by the environment that they live in, I still don’t really  understand what’s going on. I can look all I want, but I’m never going to see until it actually happens to me. All I can understand and truly see is what I have already done and what has already been given to me.

I just never thought that just being born into a family can change the rest of your life. You might have those inherited characteristics from your parents, but you’re literally going to be a completely different person had that family been living in a completely different situation. When you think about it, it’s like our whole lives are predestined. We have certain paths that are available and unavailable because of the environment we are born into. While we might feel like we have control over how we affect the choices and which decisions we actually make, the thing is that some force that is bigger than you could have ever imagined put those choices on the table for you. You didn’t even choose to make those choices available! Something else did, and I have no idea what that something else is for myself, so how am I supposed to figure it out for other people so I can understand them better?

It’s really hard to see more of the world. You hit every square foot of the world and still not see enough to finally appreciate the entirety of life as it is. Sorry.

smh.

This is kind of related to my Valentine’s Day post, but I’d just figure I’ll let everyone know again:

There are many types of love. Romance, friendship, family, etc. No one needs just one because there will always be another kind filling your heart. And when your heart gets broken over one, there’s another to sew it back together. Maybe the pieces won’t align the way it used to, but it’s something special when your heart becomes one again. 

I love you!