mundane

A massive, blue structure stretches up, towering over the array of houses in my neighborhoods. It slashes across the sky, and every time I walked past, I paused for a moment, marveling at its beauty. Though it may be a typical, mundane scene, even, to see construction cranes piecing together a building, I could not help but admire its magnificence; the design of the crane and I thought about how extraordinary its function and purpose is. Then, I would slowly slip away from my mind and back into reality. It occurred to me that in essentially everything, design is understandably influenced by practicality. This means its entire existence and purpose was meant for it to be practical. When I realized that even the vibrant blue paint splattered over was perhaps afterthought...I was disappointed.

I am reminded a line from Osamu Dazai's novel, No Longer Human...almost everything seems to be created for practical reasons. Most man made creations are, and while I am in awe of how far we've come, I understand a little bit of what Dazai expressed when he mentioned how disappointed he was at humanity. The fantasy world we leap into seems to hold endless possibilities, it's colorful, beautiful, but imaginary. When we find ourselves returning to reality, we are greeted with rules, limits and boundaries. Life itself also appears so ordinary... And so I remember how on my walk, I took a deep breath and my eyes dulled over by the reality of this world and I continue to walk with my dog beside me. The structure just becomes another piece added to the sky that just always remains there, peeking behind houses and looming over the sky.

As I reflect back on this scene and on this day (a whole year from now) I think about how my dog, Coco, is no longer by my side. The construction may have stopped now.  My family has moved a different state and city, and what seems like an entirely different world. What seemed like an ordinary, mundane snapshot of my life was not completely in the sense that this very moment cannot be replaced exactly as it was. That moment is precious to me and is a reminder for me to always take in the view, the moment. Life is filled with many of these mundane moments of beauty and I don't want to let simple moments like these slip by. While the world in my mind has its own beauty and I love to live inside of it, I hope it does not give me a nihilistic view of the beauty that reality also has to offer.

I suppose I have to live it to see and experience that beauty for myself..right?

grad interviews

I repeat myself countless times to so many different people--graduate students, applicants, professors.
Interviews are so dreadful...and long...and anxiety-inducing...SO stressful I feel like I'm losing my mind.
Is it me who is even saying these lines anymore and is there an ounce of truth in the rehearsed lines I'm reciting to them?

 I honestly don't know.

When will it be over?

I'm so mentally and physically exhausted. I want it to finally be over so I can breathe.
But then I also DON'T want it to be over because then I have to make a decision.

I hate decisions...

without you

that very moment 

I kept on thinking

how could I go on living

without you

trembling violently

as I pound your chest;

your rib cage rattles

& you break

You are a part of me,

the only extension of me;

my life and everything ends

without you.
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heavily inspired by pyperbleu's book + a nightmare I recently had about my sister dying.
I don't know why it happened but it did and here I am with this random poem LOL

in my dream I don't know why, but my sister stopped breathing and I tried to perform cpr
and tried everything to bring her back to life but when she was gone...I physically felt a part
of me die and break apart. so yeah idk weird dream, weird poem I'm weird

dead my old fine hopes

They're all dead, every one of them
and it's painful to begin dreaming
when they're shattered and crushed
completely, each time without fail.

All I've ever known is this
agonizing cycle of hoping then
never receiving, then abandoning
every dream to wither...but still.

I look ahead and see endless
fields of irises, blue each spring;
blooming and breathing on me
a familiar, lingering fragrance.
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-inspired by Shushiki's haiku (that I love so much)
// free form that obviously lacks form + skill but I randomly wanted to try it :P

an unexpected smile

11/1. I woke up and I did not want to get up to make that two-hour commute to work. I remember thinking that there was no way I could make it and if by chance I somehow made it, the only work I would be capable of doing is lying on the floor all day, lifeless. Duty calls, though, and so I forced my eyes opened and it escapes me how I found strength to drag myself there, but it somehow happened. It was still dark outside, and a swarm of thoughts and feelings hit me as I walked towards the building. It was peaceful and quiet—a rare moment of serenity, especially considering what typically occurs inside the walls of the building. Shrills of frustration escape frail, disturbed, and broken kids and echo off the walls of every unit. There are kids who feel as if they are thrown into a prison cell, abandoned and some kids store so much anger inside that they resort to using their hands, using brute force on others to have their way in the world. Some kids resort to using creative ways to try and inflict pain on themselves because they do not know what to do with all the pain and hurt inside. All of these kids are sleeping and temporarily drifting off in sleep to another world, perhaps more peaceful than the one they live in now. There are some kids, eager to wake up from the nightmares that trap them in their minds. What they all share is that all of them would soon have to wake up to reality, and that reality is often faced with burdens, struggles, and difficulties all too overwhelming for someone so young, so little to take at once.

When I reached the unit office, I sat in the silence and did my job—we followed a schedule where the kids take showers, brush their teeth, etc. It was right around noon that I started to get anxious and felt my stomach and throat tightening up. I had to lead process group and ask questions the kids least want to answer. We gathered around a table and I took out a fresh sheet of paper and fumbled with a pen. I wrote down the children's names one by one and could feel my pen and the table shaking with every stroke. When I finished, my eyes met with client 'M' and unfortunately for him, he would go first. M was an interesting kid. He was a frail teenager with bright red hair, and I worked with him the day before. I enjoyed spending time getting to know him and I saw a sort of child-like innocence and curiosity in him. From reading his medical records I knew that M had depression with psychosis and ADHD, but I also knew from working with him that he loves to ask philosophical questions, loves hard punk music, loves coloring, and loves to play card games. He often hides his thoughts and emotions, but there are rare moments where he thinks out loud and tries to talk to others, and I think those moments where he sincerely wants to make friends with his peers is so precious.When I first started working, I struggled a lot between whether or not I would first get to know a kid, or their diagnosis, but I learned that no matter what, hearing kids share their experiences helps you understand them so much more. The day before, M shared openly and explained his disorder to his peers and I was amazed at how vulnerable he was. He talked about a time when he walked by the street and he would hear voices in his head telling him to throw himself in the middle of the street. They would say things like "You don't deserve to live, you should kill yourself, or no one likes you" which immobilized him to a point where he would lock himself in his room and be stuck with these destructive voices talking to him nonstop. 

I wanted to help, yet I had no idea how a question could help him or if he would even respond. I cleared my throat and decided to just go for it. I asked M, "How are you feeling this morning?" and he responded that he was feeling 'amazingly awesome', although tired. I laughed and told him that those were interesting adjectives to use. He looked at me, tilted his head slightly to the side and asked me what an 'adjective' was, and I explained to him they are words used to describe other words. He looked intrigued for a second and continued to sit there in silence. And then the dreaded question came up: "What are your goals for today?" There was an uncomfortable silence after that question and looked down at my paper, wondering if I would get a response and how I would respond if I did. I looked up and he opened his mouth and replied, "no goals, I have no goals in my life" in a monotonous tone. I sat there sort of dumbfounded at his response and I became flustered. I did not know how to respond. I asked him this same exact question the day before and I wanted to help him but I didn't know what I was doing or how to help him. I didn't know how to convey my desire to help him. I sat there and after a moment of silence said, "Let's think about a goal together. Is there anything you feel like you are struggling with, a struggle you have that you would like to work on while you're here?" I carefully chose every word in an attempt to sincerely convey my desire to help him. After all, I did not want to make a mistake of calling his struggles a 'problem' where he might associate that word with himself and think negatively of himself. He was not problematic, or a problem and I did not want him to think that. He looked at me and thought about it for awhile. "The voices in my head...I want them to stop. I don't really want to talk about it too much because they get louder when I do." It was an answer I did not expect, and I sat there speechless, but once I snapped out of it I quickly thanked him for sharing especially knowing how difficult it must have been.

It really was hard for him to share, but I am so thankful he does. I asked M if there is anything that helps those voices to quiet down, anything he can do or we can do to help him, and the moment I asked that question I quickly regretted it. I felt bad because the voices seem to be something that must be so hard to combat and fight, as it was out of his control. Sure, there were medications that could help, but I felt incredibly dumb asking him these questions and I felt so unqualified. M responded after awhile and told me that when he talks to people he focuses on reality and the voices get quieter. I looked in his eyes and swallowed really hard. I really wanted to encourage him because I see his efforts and felt convicted to let him know that he was doing a great job trying to reach his goals, trying to fight the negative things that the voices would say about him. He was always asking his peers and staff to play cards, would attempt to start conversations and interact with everyone. I was trying so hard to word it correctly. "I've noticed you've been trying really hard to talk to staff and to the other kids. You've been doing a really a good job, I'm really happy for you." Words that sounded a little jumbled, clumsily thrown together, and maybe insincere because the execution was not so graceful...but I did manage to force it out of my mouth. I still don't know how he received it or if he even got what I was trying to convey. 

I looked down and was terrified of how he would respond. I took a deep breath, looked up, and in that moment, I saw a smile spread across his face and I sat there taken aback by the view. A smile always spreads across M's face as he is talking with others and enjoying himself, and in this very moment, he wore that same smile. That smile is so precious. That smile appears when he's not in a very low mood, when he is not talking about how much he is trash, how he does not deserve to be alive. For those few milliseconds he is happy, and I'm so thankful he was able to open up to me, even if it was just a little bit and share honestly. It is a moment I will always remember. I'm by no means qualified to help children and every shift I work I see that more and more...but to be used in even a small way like this, for this opportunity to talk to them and listen to them...I'm so thankful.I will carry that precious smile with me for a lifetime and it will motivate me to try and peek into the hearts of other people to try and bring smiles on their faces as well.

this day is for you

Thank you that we have such a hope to live each day for you. 
The love that you have shown us from the cross compels us to live every day solely for you.

Lord, let me live this day for you. Though I wake up, never feeling like I'm enough no matter what I do. Though I always see myself failing and I'm constantly submitting myself to the opinion's of others. Though my mind is filled with insecurities, fears, hopelessness, bombarded with selfish thoughts about me, fill my thoughts with you and your love. Help me to never overlook the power of the cross-how though I was hopeless and dead, Lord, you saved me out of love by dying on that cross and you defeated death forever.

I need...

If I'm being honest right now, I feel really discouraged. I could list all the things that are wrong with me and wrong in my life right now, but all of it can be summed up pretty much with this description:  I feel worthless. This semester, I am applying to graduate school and guess who has not even compiled a list of schools I plan on applying to before the deadline. I have not started to study again for the GRE because I honestly do not feel like I will get the score I want. I have  given up before even really trying because, in my eyes, I am hopeless. I am co-leading for a small group this semester, and instead of seeing this opportunity as a privilege I am so caught up in the struggles, I fail to see this opportunity to grow through these hardships. I try so hard to love my members and I am trying so hard to make them feel loved, yet I feel like I am failing miserably. I tell myself that I am trying and that I am awkward which is not false, but who would have known you could be awkward in trying to love someone. I fear the things I tell them may be wrong, the way I treat them may be wrong, that everything I am doing is wrong. There must be something wrong with me. I look at others and they have this natural gift to connect with people--those people are capable of being loved. They must be. And me? I must not be capable of having love reciprocated by most people and that is the conclusion I have drawn. It is hopeless for me. I am hopeless.

I must be feeling this way right now because inside I am longing for answers to the uncertainty of my future, longing for my wishes to be granted, and longing for love from others and in my eyes there is absolutely no answer, no progress. I am falling flat on my face day after day and forcing a smile on my face telling myself everything will be okay. I convince myself that my members love me even while I look at their blank faces. I reflect on all that I try to do for them and it isn't enough. Nothing I do is enough. I am falling apart because there is only so much I can do by myself. Everything is out of my control, the way people see me, the way my life turns out.  My life is not in my hands. And I feel like I am slipping away, fading. Aimlessly, I am trying to carry on living by my own effort and I honestly have felt so dead these past few days. When my time is consumed with serving, with studying, I look within and feel emptiness rather than joy. There must be something wrong with me. It's so hard to see the purpose in loving others, in even carrying on when I am so caught up in the fact that I am a failure.

This is reminiscent to me of a time when I cried out to God in desperation. I wanted rest, I wanted peace, I wanted an escape from darkness. Once again, I am reminded of how hopeless I am. Hear the cry of my heart, Lord, the cry inside my heart that begs for you every single day for I am poor and needy. Even when I forget the reality that I am nothing and worthless without you. While I only used to go to you in desperation, life has become so painful to go through that I am beginning to see how much in need I am of you daily. I want to draw near to you, pour out all these feelings of worthlessness and look to you for hope because it is absolutely impossible to find it in myself. I can pretend but I will never be able to become the person the world wants me to become, my parents want me to become, the person people expect of me. I feel like I fallen flat on my face and I need your strength to get up and keep living. I don't want to sit down, not doing anything, not going to you for guidance or strength and expect everything to work out. That is not faith. I want faith that all things are in Your hands, I NEED to reassure myself of your steadfast love and grace daily and I want this longing, this desire, within me to do everything with all that I can do worship you through serving, through my studies, and through my life with full assurance that you will work through me. Lord, at the end of the day, I do not need all these things the world has to offer me. Yes, I need strength, perseverance--all to say that, Lord, I need you.