to my ...

sometimes, my love, sometimes it is not always the black or white crayon.
at times, my love, it will be the color you have never imagined in your hand.
i know right now it seems as though they hand you black in one hand, and white in the other,
you must always remember, every color has its potency.
and you must always remember that no matter which color you choose,
that one is tight between your fingers
and you must never let go.

ophelia

she drowns, or lets the waters drown her

she succumbs to a muddy death
after heartbreaks,
after long gazes to the ones who scripted her,
she, now alone, decides to do something:
she dies.

she drowns, or lets the waters drown her
her clothes spread wide
they drink and drink til they submerge in her tears
her hair aligned with flowers that float
she is now ready:
and she dies.

Job 22

Submission and peace.
Knees bent. Speak to me.
Submission.
Passivity.
I, the receiver of all actions.
I, the blessed
the loved
the humbled
the broken
the fed
the weakened
the led
the forgiven.
Negativity.
Submission.
Knees bent, face down. Speak to me.
Give to me
bless me
love me
humble me
break me
feed me
weaken me
lead me
forgive me.
Peace

FIND X!!!!!!

Finding X, the answer, the purpose that seems to remain forever a variable, is ultimately everyone’s mission. It’s not just an essay prompt.

X is what I fear.
X haunts me at night.
X is what I want to be.
X connotes negative emotions. X often means expunction, elimination, and “cross-outs.” When one writes the letter X, it is done in an obstinate manner, there is not an inkling of hesitation. X is the unknown, the mysterious. It is not part of our knowledge. It makes us feel weak. I fear the image of X. It tells me not to get closer. It tells me it’s taboo to get between its widespread legs. I fear X.
Take X by its legs. Pull them apart. What you have in your fingers are two of the same. Two of the letter “I.” I find X at nights when I’m alone with my sanity. When I question the very ground I stand on. When I look not in the mirror for my reflection, but my very entrails. X becomes less lucid as I face my weaknesses, passions, my losses and gains. X comes when I face myself. X haunts me when the sun creeps low.
X itself took two I’s and crossed them to be something different. X, to be that alphabet, to be used as the symbol for the countless ideas it stands for, had to come from a common descent. I am asked to see what’s in my hands and make greatness. I’ve been x before. Once I saw a fly on the window and was compelled to write what I consider greatness. I saw two sticks and learned to produce greatness in sound. I saw bricks, and made a bookshelf. I saw garlic and mushroom this morning, and cooked up a cuisine. I, however, am not satisfied. I want to be a bigger X.
If you ask me tomorrow the same question you ask today, I might say, “I love X.” I might answer, “X stopped haunting me,” or, “I am X.” Who knows, I might retort, “X is just an alphabet. It is nothing!” After all, X is the ultimate variable.


Please, just tell me you get it. What a challenging prompt

Stanford Short Essay #1

Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate - and us - know you better.

Dear friend,
Yes, we're friends now. I must warn you, I snore, but the intensity varies so you will be at luck once in awhile. Aside from that, I know you'll like me. I'm a cat and dog person. I'm a drama and action film girl. I can eat kettle and butter popcorn. I can play golf and basketball. I go out to Veggie Grill for lunch and Mongolian barbecue for dinner. I've cried to Rachmaninoff and nodded to Tupac Shakur. I study with index cards and with friends. I love talks over coffee and chats while jogging (...and panting). I've read Marx and Hegel. I might bring in kimchi and fried chicken, but I’ll be sure to keep the room ventilated. I can't wait to share the awkward and the laugh-until-you-hurt moments with you. I can’t wait to meet you, friend.

Sincerely, Irene

P.S. I hope you don't mind a guitar in the room.

I had never struggled so much with finding motivation.

what ive been staring at

i'm sick :(
but the cd player's been helping me. it contains that one cd that zephyr burnt me LONG time ago. ahah felt like being nostalgic.