They don't understand

I was listening to a song right now. It's called "They Don't Understand" The lyrics:

A mother riding on a city bus
Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss
Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through
Somebody said don't you even care?
Do you let 'em do that everywhere?
She slowly turned around, looked up and stared
She said please forgive them
But they've been up all night
Their father struggled, but he finally lost his fight
He went to heaven
In the middle of the night
So please forgive my children

(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never really know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)

A man driving down the interstate
Slowing down traffic making everybody late
Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through
Somebody honked from the passing lane
Yelling out the window, I ain't got all day
The old man looked around and he caught his eye
He said please forgive me
You know it's been a very long life
My wife has passed away and my kids don't have the time
I've been left all alone
And it's getting hard to drive
So please forgive me children

(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up, trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like their ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you really never know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)

A man hanging on a wooden cross
Giving everything to save the lost
Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through
Somebody said don't you have a prayer
If you were king, come on down from there
The man just turned his head, looked up and stared

He said please forgive them
For they have not seen the light
They'll come to know me when I come back to life
Go to heaven, to make everything all right
So please forgive your children

(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's living in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there's ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never know what your neighbors going through
(They don't understand)

A mother riding on a city bus
Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss
Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through

This song shows how people get so concerned with whatever they are thinking about that they don't realize that other people are in the middle of their lives too. Things happen to people, and others don't realize this. There tends to be a reason why people are the way that they are (okay, not always, but most of the time). People tend to forget that things happen to other people too, and that they're not the only one who may be going through a rough time, or have had to go through a rough time. They think about their own lives and what they wan't not thinking about the feelings of another person. When someone is crying, you ask what you can do to help, not point out the fact that they are crying, helping them to become a target for those looking for someone to make fun of.

Sometimes it can be hard to remember that other people are going through their lives at the same time that you are going through yours. You are not the only one. You can't always know what is going on in someone's life. They won't always tell you if they are hurting or if there is something that is bothering them right now. You have no way of knowing, so think about it when you see people and talk to them. Because unless, they are your BFF, most likely, you never really know what they're going through.

The Same Mistake

Why is it that somethimes people can't help but to make the same mistake over and over again?

Trust. It can be a big mistake. You can trust a person easily when your little. Well, what happens when you're 8 and your best friend that you trust the most just learned the most important thing in your life right now. She learned what your greatest fear was. Not just some 8-year old fear, but a fear of something that can scare a person of any age. You tell that person and she laughs in your face. What then? You're young. You move on. The next year, you have new friends. They tell you that they care about you and you believe them. I mean, why wouldn't you? Then, they tell you that they don't like you and they don't want to be your friends anymore. So you move on. The next year, you have other friends, but your best friend treats you worse than their neighbor's dog. It just continues that way, year after year. Friend after friend. Hurt after hurt. Over and over again. You would think that eventually, you would learn that people don't always mean it when they say that they care. That, eventually, you would stop caring so much about people, but you can't stop. It keeps hurting. It hurts more and more. Taking the pieces of your heart and shreding them until your heart can no longer be fixed. You would think that after nearly another 8 years of the same hurt, you would learn to stop letting the same thing happen over and over again, but for some reason, you can't. It just keeps happening. Over and over again. Like a vicious cycle, around and around, with no end in sight.

I am blessed. I found Mei. She will be there. No matter what. For once, I can be sure that someone will be there. Someone won't leave me. Somehow, she managed to stick all the pieces of my heart back together. She won't just suddenly decide that she doesn't like me anymore. It's a joke that we have,
"You will always be my best friend, because you know too much"
We are stuck like glue, whether we like it or not. Thankfully, we DO like it...
And so while everyone else can leave me, I know that she will stay. So now it doesn't even matter if I make the same mistake anymore, because whe will always be there for when the next person leaves me. Even then, it won't hurt as bad because she is my best friend, and I won't need anyone else but her.

Angry at the World

Tell me, who can't be angry at the world. You get so mad that you just want to sit on the floor and cry, but you know that you can't do that. You can't let people see you hurting. Even when your in the dark, people are watching you. When you think that you are alone, they are there, to see if you cry, to watch you hurt. We don't live in a perfect world, far from it. We live in a world were people will leave you without a second thought about it. But you can't do anything about it. No matter how angry or sad you get, nothing can change it. You can get so mad that you want to hit something, to break it, but you can't becasue then you'll start breaking things or hurting yourself. At times it can seem that the entire world is against you and no matter how hard you fight their hold on you, they just keep getting stronger and stronger. The darkness IS amazing. They can't see you, can't watch you while you suffer, all they hear is the slightest hint of a sniffle. That's when they pounce. They know that you can hurt, and they don't care why. All they care about is that you do hurt, that now they have something to make fun of you for. They don't bother to make you feel better, to pull you away from your depression.



So every day, you hide behind the same mask. The one that makes everyone think that you are always happy. That you hape no care in the world. It makes them all think that you are always happy, spazzy, and excited about something. That is all that you let them see. You don't let the hurt show, the sadness, the anger at the world. You bury it deep inside of you where no one will see it through the mask that you hide behind. That's the point. You can't let anyone see it. They can't know that you hurt, that you're not as strong as they think you are, that you hurt too. You sing sad songs, you sing to yourself, you tell no one of the impending doom you hurt, of the the walls caving in and the world coming down. You just want to take all the hurt away, but there is no way to do it. There is nothing that you can do that will take it all away. Nothing that you can do will make it all go away. So you continue. You continue letting people think that you're happy, that there is nothing wrong in your world.

I am lucky. I have a place where I can go. Where I can let go of everything, where I can break down. Where I can share my hurt. It's a place where you don't have to be afraid. You hurt to a point where you don't think that you can hurt anymore, then you leave, you leave for the weekend. Out into the middle of nowhere where you can hurt, and show it, you don't have to hide behind your mask. You can be free. Though some still refuse to let it go. To share, to feel, they make themselves numb to the world. It puts a lot of anger in them. To everything, though, that is hidden behind the mask too. I don't blame them, it happens to everyone, and no one can deny it.

It's hard not to be angry.
Angry at youre parents.
Angry at the school.
Angry at the government.
Angry at your life.
Angry at the world.

It's all inside and there is no way to get it out....
It has been inside for too long...

Angry At The World.

Stupid thing to be angry right?
I can't let my anger out. I don't know what I'm angry at.
My sister yelled at me, and I almost attacked her. Instead Ijust slammed the door on her face.
I can't let any of my anger out. I can't hit anything. I can't tell anyone. Who could understand if I don't even understand why?
All I can do is cry. And write. Then again writing doesn't help. If I hit anything right now it'll break, or I'll hurt someone or myself. What's the point anymore?
I already do so much to hurt myself mentally and emotionally, what more will physically do?
Then again I do abuse myself physically, just through other means.
I dont' have an outlet anymore. I don't have anywhere to go when I'm angry.
How can I go to my family when they're a factor in my anger?
My true friends can't be there when I cry alone in the dark.
When they are there they make me so happy, but they can never get rid of this hatred.
I hate myself. I hate my family. I hate the government. I hate my teachers.
I hate the world for being the way it is. I hate life for being the way it is.
And i'm not doing a thing to change it.
I'm just crying and forcing my thoughts out through my fingers.
That's why I love the dark.
It doesn't only hide me, it hides the rest of the world from me. In the light you're so exposed. You see everyone, everything, all of it is revealed to you.
Why can't I be ignorant?
Why can't I be normal?
Why do I have to smile so much?
Why do I have to lovce, to feel emotion?

My head is exploding. My spasms are acting out. The room is spinning. In seconds there will be darkness again.

Diagnosis?

So in English with Mr. Miller. We read The Diagnosis.
For some class credit he said we could write a response. I didn't want to just hand him the one I had previously written on here, just for some points. I actually have to write something for the intent and main purpose of getting a good grade in his class. Having something new to write on here is just a bonus. I pretend I write to an audience. Though I know that few read this blog at all. Maybe I hope that others will read this one day?
All of the relationships in The Diagnosis are so pointless. There's the facade of caring. There are a few points where you think that someone cares for another. Then next thing you know they're doing something so crazily idiotic. Take Melissa for example (so sorry for those who haven't read the book, maybe you should read yes?), she shows moments of caring about Bill, but continually she says, "Why are you doing this to me?" Bill can't control what's happening to him, and yet she blames him for their son's personality, for their sudden loss of income. Alex seems to care for his father, shown when Bill had finally returned home, and Alex lay across his father's chest as he slept. Alex though shuts himself off from his father, giving him opportunities to connect such as in the pizza parlor, but never really trying himself. All of the relationships seem to be failures. The married people around Bill argue so much, friends are people who distance themselves from you and only reminisce about when times are good, rather then living in the now, and helping you deal with your problems.
Then you look at relationships today. How hard it is to really connect with someone. If you find that person well you are one lucky son of a gun. I am one lucky son of a gun. I have Nikki.
I received and e-mail from a teacher. He showed concern about how I was doing in class.
I cried when I read that letter. He cared about what I was doing. About my grades and what would happen to me. Maybe I'm just being a teenager, but lately to me, it seems like no one cares. I feel like Bill. I feel like the people around me at work(school) only care for themselves and furthering themselves, rather then helping others. I feel like my family is so disconnected from me and they never reach out to me, but rather leave me to deal with my problems as well as their own. Sometimes I feel like the people I love the most are the ones who don't connect with me. Bill didn't have God though. Religion was never mentioned. What would have happened to Bill if he had God? Would he still be trying to hold on in life as I do now? Would he have fought harder? Would he have been able to see more clearly? That will be an interesting topic to think back on one day.

Mr. Miller. I don't know if this really can double for my response, but I think I write better when I write for me. When I write what's on my mind, rather then stick to one exact detailed topic, and write it for someone else, or for something else. I hope it works though.

Diagnosis

So in English with Mr. Miller. We're reading The Diagnosis, by Alan Lightman. I went to a Doctor on Friday to ask her to make her own diagnosis about me. Funny enough while waiting for her I was reading the diagnosis. I just finished the book this morning.
I think it was Friday, but one can never be quite sure, but I had started talking about something in English. It came out to be how we interpret it, but that had never been my immediate thought. My classmate had said something and it triggered something else in my brain. It was a marvelous thought, a wonderful thought, a point of enlightenment in my life, but as I began to talk, and notice that everyone who was listening wasn't really hearing me, then I began to lose track of the original thought. It brought me back to, "If a Poet Has No Words, Does He Leave His Poem Blank?" I can't even remember the title to something I myself wrote... But my thought was lost, that beautiful pearl in my mind. If only I could have held onto it, then let it slide from my mind and form on my tongue. If only I could have remembered it.
A major theme in The Diagnosis is sound. Even now, I'm drowning myself out in sound even though I know better. Listening to Michelle Branch, and some Filipino singers in the background. I can hear the keys clicking, the washing machine sounding. The more I listen I hear myself breathe, I can hear my heart beat. The sounds my body makes as I'm moving, hitting things. The world crashing in around me, assailing my senses. I see the colors in everything, how it moves. How my thoughts are appearing on the screen. I can smell the smells in a Filipino house. the mixed smells of food and plants. Of the lingering scent new furniture has as it wears away, still trying to hold onto itself. The smell that is. I can feel everything. The leather creating friction against the skin of my legs. The smoothness of the computer and the keys on my wrists and finger tips. How the earphones feel on my ears. The armrest feeling on my elbows. I can also feel my own hair creating curtains next to my eyes. These sudden fuzzy black lines in my vision, that I'm so used to because of my my hair used to feel. How the edges just touch the base of my neck my shoulders. The lacking of my hair at my waist now. I can taste the dryness in my mouth, the lingering of my fried rice breakfast. I lick my lips and can taste their dryness. I should probably get water, but now... I don't want to lose this pearl. The senses are so sensitive. They attack everything, but as life goes on do we ignore it? Do we ignore every little detail? I was walking yesterday to meet with someone at the park. I was wondering... What do people mean by you need to stop and smell the roses? Do they want us to take in every little detail? Every curve of the leaf just like Bill Chalmers did when his senses were fading? If we're going to pay attention at all, why not include all the small details? Then there's no use in stopping if you can't take every little bit in. Then your sense's become attacked though, every detail in a small thing is overwhelming. I could spend a lifetime staring at one thing. Watching how it changed. How the light dances on it, around it, changing it, contorting it. I could stare at one person's face for a lifetime, and not mind wasting away. As Narcissus did staring at his own.
Don't you just love how one thought can branch into so many different ones?
In my own opinion, Bill Chalmers, in The Diagnosis, has become sick because of everything going on in his life and the lack of human communication.
When I went to my doctor on Friday and talked to her about everything wrong with me. The heart pains, frequent muscle spasms, loss of control in my arms and legs for brief periods of time. The headaches, the emotions and the etc. She said that it was all due to my stress, and that I should try and relax more. The chest pains she took a couple of tests on my heart, I'm not exactly sure what it was, just to be sure. She just said to keep tabs on it and the whatnot, and just asked that I try and relax more. Something that my friends have been telling me for so long.
I couldn't help but see the parallel between Bill's problem and mine. Have I really lost all my human communication? True connection on the intimate level... Will I eventually waste away pushing those that I love far from me? My doctor was very vague with what was wrong with me, only that I should stay calm and relaxed... All of this just made me think how much it related to my Poet Piece. As it's become nick named among some of my friends. AKA Does A Poet Leave His Poem Blank? I really can't remember the name.. That's just terrible. Maybe I'll record the conversation we have in class and write about it one day?
I can get my words and thoughts out when I don't have to speak them. If I were to speak them... Well. I really do have to trust you for me to be totally unfiltered, don't I?

My Diagnosis : All the patient needs is Love, Trust, Understanding. Maybe a slight dosage of relaxation. Definitely to get out with Family, Friends. Connection.

She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy

Okay. So maybe she doesn't think my tractor is sexy. I don't have a tractor. I bet if I had one she'd think it was sexy though! Haha... On Tuesday I leave for the trip MUN is taking for our Duke University Model United Nations. Usually we don't go to DUMUNC, but the Director General there this year is a former Tustin High School Secretary General (which for you non-MUNers is kinda like the main person in charge, usually the best delegate at the school). So yay we go to North Carolina, and then to Washington D.C.

By car, Durham is 2,521.33 miles from Tustin. That's a 37 hour and 36 minute drive from here to there. We're taking a plane, but that's just to show you how far we'll be traveling.

By car, Washington D.C. is 2,670.35 miles from Tustin. That's a 39 hour and 54 minute drive from here to plane. Not including traffic inbetween.

In Durham, the day we get there (February 18) the high will be 53 degrees Farenheit. The low is 36 degrees Farenheit.

In Washington D.C., the day we get there (February 22) the high will be... I don't know. The seven day forecast doesn't go high ahead, but there's a chance of snow looking at the weather patterns. Then again I'm no meteorologist.

We'll be back on February 26 around 8:45 P.M.

That's a nine day trip.

Nikki and I have never been apart for more than six days before. Not since... Wow for a couple years now, and only now we've only begun to be so close. Odd how that works out right?

So on this trip there's a couple people going. All people I know and generally talk to, but no one that's really a good friend. Maybe Annie, but we don't talk too much. What about my boyfriend? Ryan Scott Wassenaar. My wonderful and amazing boyfriend? Well, I don't think he'll be much company. I know the title makes no sense right now, bare/bear with me.

You're going to need background story for why I'm not feeling all girlfriendy lately. Wanting to be all close to him and whatnot.

Last weekend I was a supervisor at the Laguna MUN conference. I was sitting in the advisor's lounge and they were talking and joking around. I was talking to Mr. Trev, and I was mid-sentence saying, "Mr. Trev! I'm not the usual stereotype-" Then Mrs. Levine wonderfully cuts in and starts talking about of course not! I'm so dominant, and basically I have "the boyfriend" on a leash. How once when he was in her room, then was supposed to go out and meet me, he was worried about how slow he was going and that I would be upset he was taking so long... I felt bad about this, because I believe in relationships men should be dominant, and I know I'm naturally dominant, so I don't want him to feel that bad! So I talked to some of the advisors, who happen to be great influences in my life right now, about the idea. So called him, and asked about it. I asked him If he felt bad that I was so dominant all the time. He said Yes. When I asked why he wouldn't give me an answer. He sounded so depressed from even the first hello, and I was in such a good mood from the day. I enjoyed myself at the conference... And he was just so sad... It made me sad. Then me being who I am, I got mad at myself for getting sad because of him. But I can't help it. As I've said before it pains me to hear him in pain. Then I get home, sad and mad all in one odd little package. Look at my email, I got his papers. I downloaded them. Read the first sentence then said they were good. I skimmed later on, then read in detail. they really are great papers.