your mother.

Hush Now, Poor Baby.

2008-12-27T16:26:00.000-08:00

I realized today that I’m really not who most people are looking for when they want real advice or comfort. I’m that person who will tell you that every problem you’ve ever had in your life you have also caused, and that if you can’t get over yourself and accept that, you’re never going to fix a thing. I’ll tell you that everything alters with perspective; that mind over matter works every time. There need never be anger involved; again—get over it. There are more important things in the world than your emotions. People in Africa have to prioritize their stomachaches over their heartaches regularly. Go do something worthwhile and stop wallowing in your pool of self-pity—it’s pathetic. Now stop being sad.

Feel better?

Lol okay I admit I’m not as harsh as I claim to be, and I’m actually a great listener, but everything I wrote is also true to my beliefs. That being said, I could never tell you that “things will work out in the end” or that something was “meant to be” with any conviction. I could never give you any excuses to why you failed at whatever it is you failed at either, because I wouldn’t believe any of that BS myself. I could, however, easily and truthfully tell you that everyone makes mistakes, and you’ll be a better person if you take advantage of this one. Or that you really are a good person; I’m here for you and I love you.

And if that doesn’t make you feel better, I can do no more.

So far.

2008-10-21T22:19:00.000-07:00

College is so good.
It really is. I don't know why anyone would not want to go to college.

I love how everyone walks with a purpose on campus. Not like anyone really knows where he's going, but everyone has a direction. The very paradox pleases the the ear. It's exciting that everyone around me has a major. It's like everyone has a secret-- everyone is a secret. And juicy ones at that.

Junkies.

2008-08-03T01:38:00.001-07:00

I need money.
Hmmmm. It'd be really cool if . . .
I didn't.

It's like opium.
We're all addicted because the idiot government mass distributed it.

Calm Down, Sparky.

2008-07-28T21:22:00.000-07:00

I've been neglecting you for far too long, and I'm here again, as was bound to happen. But today, I am writing with not a single emotion or realization but with an excess that is unhealthy. My point is still unrealized, my mind still blocked by the tangles of recent dilemmas. But my fingers have a mind of their own, and upon them I shall rest my full confidence to produce a worthy image of my current state of mind.

First off, I feel adventurous. Adventurous for college, adventurous to meet new people, adventurous to feel different dimensions of emotions. Recently, I've been wanting to befriend the world, seeing good in so many people I've never taken any interest in, or rediscovering the people I'm around all the time, like Gramma. I think I've learned to bleach away the stains of regret laden upon the fabric of my memory and conscience-- it's this grand excitement for the future that maintains the drive for success and happiness. It's the confidence of knowing that not only do I deserve unbounded joy without question, but also that it's mine for the taking. The taking is just a choice away.

I love the American culture of optimism, no matter how foolish it is in many cases. Ms. Long told our 8th grade English class something that has always stuck: "The first step in the cycle of success is enthusiasm, whether it be real or feigned." Perfect example? COLLEGE ORIENTATION. Whether you're prepared for success of not, being surrounded by peers psyched for success for 3 days will convince you that you are indeed ready. And yes, although you didn't realize it before, you are fucking pumped. I love it! Prepare students for success before they want it. Convince them they want to succeed, and all of a sudden they'll find themselves reaching for the moon.

And whether the excitement/motivation was genuine or affected yesterday, it's there now, like a stealthy little Pixie planted it there in your sleep.

I'm so ready.

my blood, her blood, one blood.

2008-06-22T22:38:00.000-07:00

I have too many sisters.
There are four of us.

We scream hard.
We cry hard.
We hate hard.

... and off the record, we love hard, too.

My little sister wrote an informal essay about a pet peeve. She's eleven. She wrote about “'Repeating Phrases That Parents, Siblings, or Friends Say Over and Over Again'...'RPTPSFSOOA' for short."

A section of it (thoroughly exaggerated, she admitted):

"I also dislike when siblings force you to fetch something for them because they are too lazy to get it themselves. This is the worst kind of offense that falls in the category of “RPTPSFSOOA”. I despise this kind because the younger or youngest sibling always has to be the slave of the family. I have two older siblings so I have a reason the hate this category most of all. Having to fetch all kinds of things, near or far, such as books, folders, food, phones, or the TV remote can be tiring and irritating."

And the essay's concluding paragraph:

"As you can see, I find repeated things such as parents’ nagging, siblings’ demanding, and friends’ speaking in cyber-tongue disturbing and annoying. All these fall into the category of “Repeated Phrases That Parents, Siblings, and Friends Say Over and Over Again,” and are all unbearable. However, those who say these things are always family and friends, and in the end, I love and care for them very much. "

Aww. Only because she wrote it. I'm posting it mostly for myself-- it touched me. We are not openly affectionate sisters. And this sister is not open, period.

I really do love my sisters though. A damn lot.

A Fair Trade-off.

2008-06-21T19:37:00.000-07:00

You took the definition of truth and gave new meaning to my clichés.

predestined woe.

2008-05-20T16:35:00.000-07:00

i keep showering.
and i keep wanting to shower.
and when i come out, i liberally apply my most clean-smelling lotion.
and i turn on the air conditioner.
and let my hair nature-dry.
i fill a tall glass, half with ice and half with strawberry-banana Kerns juice.
i wait until condensation appears, then stick a bendy straw in it and sip, luxuriously.

i keep sleeping.
and i keep wanting to sleep.
i drop my franny and zooey as my lids drop and slowly cover the world from sight.
i curl up.
i hug my elephant.
i let dreams take over.

and i shower and sleep, and sleep and shower and lotion and relax--

but i feel so old. cripply wrinkly fatiguey old.
like ive forgotten the definition of "fresh."
i cant renew myself.

like a soggy cardboard box.

all the showers in the world can't make me feel clean.
all the sleep in the world can't make me feel awake.

all the ice cream in the world can't give the satisfaction of bliss..
...but only the pathetic aftertaste of 400 calories and guilt.

decision, decisions, desasdfss, d@ii&*cis!. . . .

2008-04-30T01:38:00.001-07:00

The most important decision is the decision to be happy with the decision made.
So delaying only makes the most important decision more difficult.

Elias: *scratches head*
" You have a way with words Casey. . .
. . . that makes things seem even more complicated. "

Blame game. I win.

2008-04-26T20:49:00.000-07:00

There is a massive difference in being brought up in a Harvard-educated family and in an immigrant family--no matter how intelligent. It's a differnce that i sort of resent.No, i can't even lie on paper today. Today, i am a bitter woman and will admit that i completely resent it. Even if just for a day.

You can repeat all you want that America is a land of opportunities, and I won't rain on your parade. In all likelihood, I'd join in right behind you. But oppourtunities lie in individual ambition and expectation-- all rooting in knowledge of what's actually there to aspire to. Without the awareness of doors, one will never see the next room. There are no doors in my household.

Students who are raised by immigrant parents (and I can only speak knowledgeably about Asian ones, I regret to admit) are raised by adults who generally don't undersand the diference between Asian education and American. In, say, taiwan, your test scores are the main (basically only) factor in acceptance into college. Furthermore, colleges choose you. College ranking in the only deciding factor to students, and visiting college/finding a place that's "right for you" is completely insane. So the most adaptable system to that of Taiwan's, as least in California, is the UC system. Why? They can easily be "ranked," although seniors can tell you that rankings don't mean a thing. They are also state-renown, and cheaper. The UCs carry a sturdy reputation for "good education." Perhaps most importantly, the president of Taiwan's son graduated from Cal.

So growing up in Walnut, it is only too easy to see every day the aftermath of such destructive a mindset that is so dispersed it seems only natural. Students struggle to meet the unforgiving eye of their fathers, who acknowledge only 4.0s, 800s, 2400s. Honestly, with only impossibility to strive for, it's no wonder a student should fall into the familiar pit of purposelessness. If one's believed sole purpose cannot be fulfilled, the only conclusion to be made is that one is a complete and pathetic failure.
Actually, its just parenting that hasn't yet had the time to adapt to new environments.
And its failure is reflected in the empty eyes of such unfortunate students.

And living under the roof of narrowminded and, in a way outdated, teachings is more costly than USC tuition. While making us believe we have high aspirations by reaching for the "highest" goals, they have inavertantly set for us a ceiling which we won't rise above. Why? We can't see the stars. By making us keep our eyes on the ceiling, we were never able to walk outside, take a little hike, find the prize that truly satisfied our hungry gazes. Self-sustainment may lead to happiness, but is not its synonym. Moreover, complacency is not success.

I see the stars now, but I find myself only yearning for them a million lightyears away, standing alone with a gold star upon my forehead, atop my roof.

I guess I just wish I knew enough sooner to shape my ambitions before time and age got a hold of me. I remember being in third grade and experiencing a tremendous wave of disappontment because I didnt have a "dream." I wasn't set on becoming an astronaut or an actress and I couldn't relate to songs that told me to "just believe" in my dreams. (Jeez Louise, when I think back on it, I wanted to be a veterinarian at 8, a pediatrician at 14, a reconstructive surgeon at 17. I didn't think i could be anything but a doctor.) If I were to reveal a little ego, I always believed in my ability to reach the ceiling my parents pointed at. But I didn't care for the ceiling, and so it was never my heart's dream, even if it might have been the "best." So I dreamed nothing, sought nothing, and just got through the days with little effort. And now that laziness has digested me, my aspirations have faded in memory and I have no path to tell me what comes next.

This is not the blame game. Of course other factors come into play. But I'm just not happy right now.

Duh.

2008-01-29T17:05:00.000-08:00

Elation is the natural high;
sleepiness is the natural drunk.
Since both are so readily available,
why should I need a substitute?

Guilty as charged.

2007-07-04T21:04:00.000-07:00

Every time something bad happens, I blame it on what I'm wearing.