watching: Season 5 of Will & Grace =]
listening to: DJs by Sublime
mood: tired and sleepy



i like to listen to music so loud that it makes my toes wiggle =]

work at denny's here i come... >.<

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if you don't like it go away =P

Fingers curling around the warm midsection
of this white disposible cup.
That's filled with over priced hot goodness,
helps the mind flow freely; fluidly
in the early morning chill.
Though it's summer every morning
the grass is covered in a film of dew.

It's that time in the morning where everything is quiet.
Where all the creatures of the day are in their
deepest of REM sleep.
Dreaming of dreams of what they're going to do when they get up.
Going on about their daily routine.
While I am trying to break free.

Free from this life of conformity.
wake.
shower.
work.
dinner.
sleep.
and occasionally go out with friends.
Life should never be at that point of predictabliltity.
Because once you've reached that point of
Predicability.
What's the point of laughing?
or even breathing.
It's all the same.

That is why I am here.
Sitting sipping my over priced drink
in the quietest point of the early morn.
Letting my thoughts flow freely like a stream
in the deepest woods.


hmm... blah.

haha

I have a feeling that I'm never going to forget you.
Even though we never see each other
You're always there in the back of my mind.
I want to forget.
Honestly I do,
but for some reason I am uncapable of doing so.
So I wait.
I wait for what happens next.
People tell me to forget about you and move on.
but like I said.
I can't.

I don't know why I can't.
Maybe because
you had a different affect on me.
You made me smile when I was feeling the worse.
You complimented me when I didn't do anything special.
Hell... on some mornings I didn't shower.

I don't know what it is about you
that has my heart and mind still tugging on my sleeve
to look back and never let go.
But I'll listen to what's inside me rather than what they are saying,
because being true to myself,
even when I get hurt,
is better than knowing that listening to another person opinion
can be even worse.


ahhhhhhhhhh


i don't know....

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[warning: here lies a very, very powerful poem on the subject of rape. It's not for the faint of heart and it is all fiction none of these words are from true experience. You have been warned.]



A mind so twisted to the point where at her lowest level of self esteem feels like it's at the highest.
Her body is just dead weight on her soul.
A clouded mind with no sense of direction.
A life that has many 'could have beens'.
She did not care.
Life to her is just a constant nightmare.
Thoughts of suicide were comforting compared to the life she lived.
Walking down the streets of the city getting what she deserved.

Last night.
She remembers so clearly.
Walking in the park and then being confronted by a stranger.
He wants to talk.
She ignores him and walks away.
A few minutes pass by,
the sound of her footsteps is so loud on the pavement.
Concentrate on her own footsteps.
She heard faint but rapid footsteps.
As if someone was running towards her but being careful enough to not be heard.
Push
Grab
Pull
Punch
Slam
Bag
Stolen away into a car; adventure.
Stay calm.
She sat there knowing what was coming
not caring that she will get hurt.
A heavy hand on her shoulder
equally heavy breathing on her neck
breath stained with the smell of sour liqour whisper to her
"don't fucking scream or else i'll fucking kill you bitch!"
Steady heart beat; no sign of panic.
Car stops
pushed out
up stairs
doors opening and closing.
lay down on what seems to be a bed

Arms tied above her head
her waist pinned down by one of her attackers.
Heart rate increases.
danger.
She feels a rough hand under he shirt.
playing with her stomach
a voice calmly says to her in a soothing voice,
"You like that don't you? You're asking for it and I'm going to give it to you."
cold metal against her skin.
knife.
rip
rip
rip
her only clothing is ruined.
naked
laying naked.
legs spread open
rough hands holding her ankles down.
She doesn't move.
She knows what's next.
Hears clothing hitting the ground.
Mounts the bed.
rough lips.
protruding tongue.
Breasts being kneaded.
A finger traces down her body
ever getting closer to her groin
playing with her pubic hair
"You're fucked."
Penetration.
In
Out
Rough
Fast
Pain

It was unknown how many times it was repeated.
Unknown how many times the beat their fists on her soft body.
But there was one thing that she knew that they didn't.

She enjoyed it.

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her hands covered in suds from the soap in her bathroom
thinking.
constantly thinking.
"it's not my fault. Yeah. It's not my fault."
rubbing slowly at the shame that covers her hands.
shame that will be a reoccurring thought later in her future.
she was not aware of the repetition.
Never ending thoughts; sharp.
Stabbing through the soft darkness that is her mind.
a hot blade burning the wound leaving its mark.
Permanent.
Never will it go away.
"my hands are unclean"
Flesh to flesh.
Too young to understand
but to only know that it is wrong.
Her hands.
So small.
Fingers curling.
fingertips touching her palm.
Thumb tucked in.
Such a small fist.
"So small."

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well.. damn.. it's been a fucking long ass time nutang... i thought i lost you... until shashab00 my cousin helped me... geez...

anyways...

i've written some poems... and i'll post them here sometime today =]

i missed nutang
>.<

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[the only reason I wrote this is because I was having a funny conversation with my German friend because she's taking her Abitur and well you'll understand when you read it. Also this is just meant to be funny. I am not taking a stab at teacher, for in the future I want to pursue a career in teaching.]




"Next week, we're having an Oral Exam on the material we've been learning. I hope you study hard!"

A girl says to another female classmate "Hey, do you want to get together and study for our oral? It'll be better than studying alone." The girl agreed and the two of them headed over to one of their houses.

They begin to study and one of the girls brother comes home with a few of his friends from school. He asks them "What are you guys doing?"
One of the girls says to him "We're studying for our Oral Exam next week. We really want to get high scores."

Then one of the brothers friends say "Oh, I have that class too. Is it cool if study with you?"
The two girls say "The more the merrier."

So the three of them studied hard everyday and into the early morning. They were very determined to do very well.

So now it's the day of their oral. Their hard studying paid off because the three of them got perfect scores. Their teacher was very impressed, that he rewarded them.
"These three showed that they were very determined in getting the high score and they helped each other by creating a study group..."

As the teacher droned on about how impressed he was one of the girls leans towards the other and whispers, "That fucker just copied off of me. He wasn't even studying most of the time!" And the other girls responded, "I know! The only reason why he's getting an award is because teacher loves the way he gave his oral."

-------------------------

I wrote that yesterday...


For some reason I'm having trouble logging onto nutang through my dad's laptop... I don't know what's wrong but it makes me sad. I hope I can find out what is wrong with it soon... anyways hello fellow nutangers.


Recently I've been listening to Yellowcard's Ocean Avenue a lot... I guess because Gene is gone and some of the songs remind me of him. Either that or I'm just in the mood. Well, it's not going to change the fact that Gene is gone. Chicago, Boston where ever he went... He's gone and joined the navy... I wonder how and what he's doing right now... Probably being stripped of his personality.. That breaks my heart. I love him because of his personality and I know that there isn't going to be anyone that's nearly like him at all.

My heart is still the sad bastard its always have been. Making me fall and crush on girls that I know I should never. It's kind of funny though. As I meet more people in my life I start to see why my heart does this to me, because if I don't take risks then I'm not going to enjoy what I'm doing with my life. I realized that my life revolves around so many things. My crazy adventures and my bastard heart are my main components.

My mom just came into the room and she tried to guess the emotions that I'm feeling. "Are you mad? Are you sad?" When she asked me if I was mad I wanted to say "Yes, I am mad because you don't let me act my age. Sure you're telling me to be responsible but tell me something I don't know already. Why can't you see me as the adult that I am. Let me learn life the way I want to because I'm old enough to take care of myself. If I mess up let me fester in my mistakes and correct them. Don't meddle into my life and try to find ways of trying to correct my wrongs by blaming yourself. If you want to know just ask." and when she asked if I was sad i wanted to say "Yes, because I can't say the things I want to say because of all this pent up anger I have against you. I highly dislike being mad in general so why are you doing this to me. Treat me better and I'll treat you better. We'll feel better about this all and our relationship won't be so sour as it is now." The feelings I have towards my mother is mixed. I want to show her that I love her but I want her to show that she accepts me for who I am and looks what I'm doing rather than what I'm struggling on. Better yet I wish she could see how much I'm struggling with myself to do the things I need to do. Struggling with the bad vices that are out there to entice me. I am in college and all doors are open to anything and everything. She can't see the person I am and where I came from because she blocks it all out. She ignores what has happened to me and doesn't see what I do as productive. And that alone upsets me so much. I am 19 years old and yet she has never told me that she's proud of me. I don't care if this god forsaken Asian race is based on how well off you are going to be in the future, because speaking from experience kids, teens, and even young adults need to be praised for what they've done. They need to know that what they did is good. So I guess me having been editor in chief of my high school newspaper is not good enough to receive praise. That my organizing the first ever Day of Silence at my school by myself doesn't need to have a pat on the back. That my writing of poetry and performing it in front of an ignorant crowd [not everyone of course] doesn't need a smile. In fact you left early. You don't see my accomplishment of getting over the need of wanting to commit suicide. And there is so much more that you over look... Instead you focus on what I'm doing wrong, what I'm not doing, making assumptions about what I do when I go out with friends... You look at me as a shell that has nothing inside. You don't know me and don't ever say that you do because I can prove you wrong on so many levels. If you can't see me for who I am, what I stand for, and why I have kids out there who look up to me and ask me advice then why look at me. I wish you'd take a look at your daughter for who she is rather than who she isn't.

It's obvious that I can write about this for a very long time... So in short I just mean If she just took the time to get to know me the right way I wouldn't have to keep myself away from her.

what the fuck... she's trying to spy on me right now. damnit mom. that's not how you get to know your daughter.

thank you for listening to my extensive rant.

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'The art of being fucked is to fuck like it is an art."

two people.
two worlds.
two minds.
two lives.
brought together for one night.

They were virtually strangers just a a few days before.
If it weren't for their misfortune for the elevator they were riding to get stuck they would have never have met.
Nor be able to share this moment with one another.

Cotton.
Denim.
Clothing.
Torn.
Falling to the floor.
Heat of the moment.
Lips touch.
Tongue tips mingle sliding past one another
Colliding into one another clumsily.
Wet.
Hands touch.
Hands move to places rarely touched by others.
The want.
The need.
Touch.
Breath growing more ragged with each intake.
Pulse steadily increasing in rate.
Moan.
Grope.
Caress.
Flesh against flesh.
Riding.
Grinding.
Sexual frustration finally giving way.
Hand on breast.
Mouth wrapped around a mound of flesh.
Bite.
Nibble.
Suck.
Sweet nectar exchanged between the two.
Eyes locked.
Fire.
Desire.
Lust.
The Want.
The Need.
Flesh into flesh.
Thrust.
Gently and slow.
Grows.
Fast and rough.
Pleasure with the fine line of pain.
Rising.
falling.
Rise again.
Higher and higher.
Senses overloading.
Tensed muscles.
Looking over the top before the big drop.
Climax.

Clothes torn fixed and placed on its rightful place.
Final words.
Final looks.
Final goodbye.
Exit room.
Chance to look back?
No.
Never.
Ever.

One Night Stand

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High above where I belong looking down to a place I should never venture to
But under my skin I itch to visit and say hi.
I tell myself no repeatedly.
So far so good.
Last Stretch.
Setting: Night, Beach, Car with orange juice at my feet.
My mind is a battle ground.
Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.
Retract.
Fuck it.
I said it. Fuck.
The next thing I see and hear are my hand reaching and unzipping.
Fumbling with the plastic foil container. Pass one back.
Grabbed a cup and the orange juice which turns out to be Sunny Delight.
The car is moving now.
1,2,3,4
swallow.
5,6,7,8
gone.
All I can do is wait.

Good? Bad? Who knows.

Setting: Starbucks off of Palm and Saturn, Hookah, and a group of friends.
It is very clear that there were two distinguishable groups.
Only glass inbetween.

Lemon mint Hookah. First time.
Smoother than I expected.
With each hit that I took I began to relax more.
My head began to get lighter and my body began to grow a little heavier.
walk.
I can.

Setting: Parking lot, Cars, on Palm Ave. on the way home.
"Let's go to the car!" Gene says and walks away.
I follow.
In his car we sit there waiting for something but not knowing what soon music fills the empty space.
My ears ring and my body reacts to the heavy bass from the song.
Trance is the preference tonight.
I find myself in the car alone.
Sleepy.

Camille opens my door.
"Hey let's go to Lai's car."
"Okay."
I stand.
I giggle.
Can I walk?
Yes.

Tap. Tap.
huh?
Tap. Tap.
What the fuck.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Stop it Camille! Stop messing with me!!"
She laughs.
I laugh.

Lai's backseat.
Feeling kind of funny, good.
Driving.
Talking. Talking. Talking.
I can't stop talking.
Lai pokes me.
"huh?"
poke.
"HEEY!"
I see two figures very close together.
I can't stop myself so I ask,
"Are you guys kissing? KISS KISS KISS KISSY KISS!!"
I giggle uncontrollably.
Giggle fits.

Setting: Home.
I'm okay. I can walk.
Lai and Camille walk me to the door.
Dad opens the door.
Say bye.
I walk into the house and my dad asks me if I want to eat.
I say "No, I'll eat later." Not hungry.
"I need to take off my shoes."
Run up the stairs.
Head rush.
I giggle.

Setting: room
I forgot I went to the beach and that there's sand in the cuffs of my pants.
I fall to my bed sleepy.
I decide to call my cousin to tell him that I finally smoked hookah.
Just then I begin reaching my peak.
I begin to jabber.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Hang up.
Call Stephanie my other cousin.
I'm on the phone with her during most of my peak.
There's sand on my bed now and I noticed.
Picture.
I'm on the phone while trying to clean the sand off my bed and constantly saying "OH MY GOD! There's sand all over my bed!"
I'm tripping balls like their no tomorrow.
Rolling in bed. Rolling in bed. Rolling in bed.
We're laughing on the phone.

I start calming down.
Computer.
I go to google... It's all black.
I freak out.
I restart the computer.
It's still black then I realize that it's earth day.
silly me.

finally sleep.
In a sandy bed.


Adventures are what I live for.

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