bright lights and beautiful voices

when

Ro — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 01:55:36 +0000

It’s another day with the fog coloring my window
I can’t spend another day with my back against my pillow
hoping for the best but never really knowing
when I’ll find my prince and perfect ending
This crown I’ve placed upon my head
has long past turned into rust, black like lead
I can’t say that I’ve lost my midas touch
when gold in my hand has never been very much
My words border between what I want to say
and what I’ve been forced to say
how could i ever hope to get the last word
when we’ve never really started to talk?
I need the proof that this clock is true
that I’ve got time and even more to do
putting pen to paper has never been so hard
when every move I’ve made has been the right card
My heart wavers between what I want to feel
and what I’ve been forced to feel
how could i ever hope to get the last word
when we’ve never really started to talk?
They say this world is made of atoms
from the smallest town to the grandest kingdom
but how is it that I’m standing on solid ground
when I feel as if I’m thrown around

11

Ro — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 21:17:02 +0000

the first thing i do is apparently watch ocean’s 11 (hey, 11, how fitting!)

wake up at 1pm

eat some pita bread

drink some cold milk

start annotating act one of king lear

yearn to see ocean’s 13 and 12

MOST OF ALL, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

this is not inception

Ro — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 01:46:32 +0000

Can I pretend this is all just some huge inception?

Can I pretend that this is the life that someone else is telling me to live? I can’t understand my own reasons and I can’t wrap my thoughts around anything coherent anymore – my imagination has grown so wild and so vivid that I can’t tame it. I don’t know how to explain all my complexity and imperfections and perfections onto a couple sheets of paper, a couple of no more than 800 word essays. I’m not a projection I’m not I’m not.

Can I pretend that I’m not in control of my imagination anymore? I just want pure thought pure creation pure magic. I don’t know what I want because I don’t want to make sense but I know I want this.

(Lately I’ve been a big sucker for any story. I don’t know why. Is it because I don’t feel emotion in real life anymore? Is this because I’m just not interested in real life anymore? Because this worries me.)

tennis and soccer

Ro — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 02:10:27 +0000

It’s like this.

I’m Roger Federer and you’re Rafael Nadal.

I’m Gianluigi Buffon and you’re Iker Casillas.

And, sadly, that is the extent of my sports analogies, but you understand me. You’re rising, I’m falling – but we’ve both climbed so far and perched so high above that we’re both afraid of falling.

Truth is, I’m the only one that’s falling – I don’t want to; no champion wants to, but it’s the inevitable law of gravity that binds us all together, grounds us to this Earth.

I’ll step down, but not willingly. I can’t fall without experiencing that first moment of vertigo, without feeling the adrenaline rush and the fear racing through every inch of me. I’m just afraid of a little risk, that’s all.

You’ll rise, but you won’t even know it. All you’ll be focused on is me and how you can perch so high, and you’re so obsessed with this fact that you don’t even see yourself passing me.

I’m Roger Federer, and you’re Rafael Nadal. I’m Gianluigi Buffon and you’re Iker Casillas.

(p.s. Roger Federer looks really good in a suit. Also I hope Gianluigi Buffon is not an accurate example here.)

unspun

Ro — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 05:43:21 +0000

(I just wanted to write. And not about myself or anything in particular. I just wanted to put words in string and wish that they will someday turn into prose.)

This is not a story, because I have no stories to tell, no tales to spin, no tapestry to weave. This is not truth, but neither is it a lie. It lingers between the folds of reality and absurdity, its aftertaste too fleeting to have any origin.

This is not a story, because it simply cannot be.

She places his cup of coffee, lukewarm with two sugars and just a dash of cream, on the table next to bread toasted just the way he likes it. She knows he will not awake in time to join her at the table, and, at least for today, there will be no banter between them over the morning paper. The clock with flowers etched into its anterior dings the departure time, so routinely that she almost rises from her seat simultaneously, before ticking away at its usual pace.

He will not be leaving with her, but, it’s alright, she thinks – she needs to stop by the store before work anyways.

Her name is etched onto the credit card, creating a raised plateau on an otherwise unblemished surface. Adele Meyers. She thinks its a pleasant but forgetful name, just perfect, because the ones who remember it surely remember her, too. Such is the case with the grocery shop owner; he scans and bags her purchased items in one swift motion, practiced, smooth. He gives her the usual look, morning tiredness and worry and other emotions left over from last night’s sleep that couldn’t wash off the lines of his face.

“Red velvet cake, again?” His voice cracks the tiniest bit, more so in the middle of a yawn than anything else.

She nods, receiving the slightest of a smile, warm despite its slight nervousness.

CANT CANT but i am satisfied from now. i’m going to be sad if i can’t continue this. : ( does it sound creepy because i am getting that vibe while i am writing it.

ohmygod. for about 10 minutes i thought i deleted it and i really was about to scream.
ohmygod.
thank you so much. for confusing me with the undo button strangeness.

that is all.

too exhausted but too inspired.
sadly the exhausted won over.

love,
R

summertime

Ro — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 01:01:04 +0000

It comes like every kid’s favorite afternoon daydream and leaves with the inconspicuousness of a trained assasin.

I love this summer.

A lot.

But it has to come and go as college applications will come. But it’s okay with me, actually. It’s just a process. Another step. And I’m willing to face it with the same determination – albeit I can’t deny that I’ll also face it with the same fear – that I’ve had all along.

Like every kid’s favorite afternoon daydream, the future will come and go before I ever see it coming.

Ro — Wed, 12 May 2010 00:48:50 +0000

After trying to log on for about 15 minutes, I felt obliged to make a post. English AP tomorrow. Will not do well. But it is a fact of life; I should accept it?

A Song For You

Ro — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 18:20:08 +0000

Honestly, have you ever just listened to a song, and even though you’ve listened to it probably a million times over, you still get struck by it every time?

Because this is how I feel every time I listen to A Song For You, the Donny Hathaway version. I mean, oh my freakin gosh, his voice is amazing and just so , well for lack of better words, tenderly beautiful. It’s amazing! I think oh my god, I don’t even have any words for this song. It’s like it speaks volumes and volumes to me without even using that many words.

So. I’m embedding it, because if you don’t know this song, you’re really missing out. Really really really. It’s so beautiful.

That’s all for today.
;; Roro.

1

Ro — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 04:31:34 +0000

Because I’m rather bad (actually, that would be a gross understatement) at writing about my life, I think I’ll just tell tales. Like Chaucer.

ACTUALLY. I have song lyrics, or that’s what I’ll call them to flatter myself. I also left my guitar in the debate room. Hopefully some Asian boy has not yet stolen it in an attempt to be cool to his other Asian boy buddies or in an attempt to woo girls with a guitar.

And yes, I know I have an obsession with bright lights. Maybe that will be a recurring theme. : )

never seen the world from way up high
never even had the chance to try
never seen the world with the city lights
never even had the chance to fly
we’ve been living in a perpetual plane
without daring to show disdain
but what we’ve missed even more
is all the things we have we couldn’t see before

bright lights flash past our eyes
all the wishes we can’t defy
but we dont need to leave this town
there’s no reason to let them down
let’s bury our roots down deep
and without needing to go back to sleep
we’ll live this night
no need to leave this town

all the people that we know
and all the dreams we have in tow
all the laughs that we’ve shared
from risks we took and dared
we dont need the money nor the fame
no need for anyone to blame
everything we’ve ever wanted, wanted
has been right here all along

blurring people flash past our eyes
know that we cant forget our ties
so we dont need to leave this town
there’s no reason to let them down
let’s visit all we’ve ever known
and you’ll see, we’ll never be alone
we’ll pass this night
no need to leave this town

even if you’ve lost all your reasons
you can’t forget the seasons
so we can’t leave this town
won’t leave this town