My Grandma is 80 years old today. I owe so much of myself to my Grandma. She is the only person who has been there for me since the day I was born. She's loved me even when I was so ugly and hateful towards her, yelling out horrible things like, "I HATE YOU" or "YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER" I do not want to degrade her special day with my past horrible adolescent outbursts, but I bring up these shameful things just to demonstrate her patience and utter and complete unconditional love. But today is not about me. It's about Ms. Ella Mae Bryant. A woman who raised three sons on her own. Worked for the post office for thirty years and took on second jobs to make a Christmas special or to simply keep her house. She has taught me so much. And even now that I am not physically near her everyday, I feel her presence looming over me. I love her so much, my heart leaps at the beauty of her existence. She touches everyone who comes into contact with her.
Thank God I am still blessed with hearing her voice. It is so sweet and soothing. Happy Birthday Grandma!
- Music:Sadie
photog: Piercarlo Abate
model: Zarina Britt
hair: Ruxandra Dumitriu
( +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~ )
- Mood:
blank - Music:Digital Love by Daft Punk
It was such a beautiful drive to work this morning. I was listening to my Soul III playlist and feeling a bit melancholy. I wasn't weighed down with my typical depression, more like a soft sadness. I say soft because there was a mixture of contentment lingering on the edges.
My friend recently said that she believes that some people are simply born with a sad disposition. Even when all is going well in life and there is not much to complain about, she said that these people (she includes herself in this group) cling on to the sorrow because it is what they know. I agreed with her and felt like a light bulb sputtered on in the back of my head. I do not subscribe fully to the idea of being born a sad person, and I do not think she feels that way either. I think she was saying that life's hardships, even if fully conquered and overcome, color our moods permanently; like a stubborn dye that won't lift from the fabric of our subconscience. Moreover we possess a hesitancy to embrace happiness fully because we are so hard wired with that feeling of impending doom. I am too happy, it's only a matter of time before my world comes crashing down...
Back to my drive to work. As I crossed a bridge on the highway I admired the lake's ethereal beauty. There was a soft haze hovering above it's surface. I appreciated it's beauty with a smile. Playing on my iPod was:
Sometimes I feel like a
Motherless Child
Sometimes I feel like a
Motherless
A long way from
Home
And even though the song has it's sorrow, I felt so connected to the something so much bigger at that very moment. The soft music, the misty lake and the lulling movement of my car coasting along the road. Like something was telling me I was understood. Sure you feel sad, you feel like a motherless child, but here is nature smiling back at you. You are loved.
- Location:desk
- Mood:
contemplative - Music:elevators swishing open
Blank Page
Empty Stage
Closed Mouth
Hopes South
Open Wide
On heavy rotation
Currently reading and loving:
I woke up late this morning which means I had to sit in traffic for over an hour and I didn't get in my early morning workout. So now i have to go workout before the lunch rush hits the gym ....ugh. I've been working out religiously for three weeks and I am so dissapointed that I missed it this morning. I haven't missed one AM workout until this point and I am so mad at myself for staying up so late last night. Oh well, can;t do anything but get one in at 11.
I sometimes get a taste of something really delicious and then I am starving for more and get extremely frustrated when I can't find anymore. That goes for many things in my life: music, books, movies etc. I am a very passinate person, so when I enjoy something I enjoy it with a fervor that at times can be a little unhealthy. For example when I enjoy a song I will play it over and over again. Sometimes I feel like my mind is a like that repeating track, playing over and over. I will sometimes repeat the same thing to myself without realizing it. I wonder why I am like this. I hate feeling anxiety but at times I cannot escape it because I am stuck in a loop and cannot get out no matter what I do.
- Mood: contemplative
- Music:Bed by J holiday
What happened to you?
You used to shine like the morning
You held the promise of an open hand
So what has become of you?
Where have you gone?
Perhaps you will never return
Perhaps you never existed
It was all just a dream
a lie
a wish
a hope
You used to shine like the morning
You held the promise of an open hand
So what has become of you?
Where have you gone?
Perhaps you will never return
Perhaps you never existed
It was all just a dream
a lie
a wish
a hope
- Music:Everybody Here Wants You by Jeff Buckle
Taken from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
hapadoll's LJ
1. I LOVE adam's apples, I think they're sexy
2. I do mathematical calculations when I am stressed out.
3. I HATE kissing, I think it's disgusting
4. I used to be so obsessed with River Phoenix that I wrote a two page
letter to his fan club when I was a kid (don't remember my age)
5. I love eating raspberry flavored food, but I hate eating raspberries.
6. I didn't know I was half Corean until I was 6 years old.
7. I've read I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings ten times.
8. I used to pretend I was Sade and sing Smooth Operator with a brush in
the mirror when I was a kiddo
9. I broke my toe because I was sleep walking (more like running) and I was
trying to escape a tarantula and jumped out of bed and landed on my pinky
toe :/
10. I subscribed to harlequin novels when I was 9. I received about 15
books before they realized I was never going to pay my subscription. I
never got one threatening letter about payment though now that I think
about it.
tag you're it!
hapadoll's LJ1. I LOVE adam's apples, I think they're sexy
2. I do mathematical calculations when I am stressed out.
3. I HATE kissing, I think it's disgusting
4. I used to be so obsessed with River Phoenix that I wrote a two page
letter to his fan club when I was a kid (don't remember my age)
5. I love eating raspberry flavored food, but I hate eating raspberries.
6. I didn't know I was half Corean until I was 6 years old.
7. I've read I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings ten times.
8. I used to pretend I was Sade and sing Smooth Operator with a brush in
the mirror when I was a kiddo
9. I broke my toe because I was sleep walking (more like running) and I was
trying to escape a tarantula and jumped out of bed and landed on my pinky
toe :/
10. I subscribed to harlequin novels when I was 9. I received about 15
books before they realized I was never going to pay my subscription. I
never got one threatening letter about payment though now that I think
about it.
tag you're it!
- Music:Dont You Evah by Spoon
Thoughts form smeared words.
Hot, angry tears drip from my eyes to my fingertips
They leak from within
They spurt furiously through my scrawling pen
And once these words arrive outside of myself
They scream out a pain and anger I've never felt
I search for a meaning to fill in this hollow space
But all that surfaces is this bitter taste
So I make this futile attempt
To make this torment come to an end
And once again
I arrive
At the edge of my sanity with my crying pen
And so I wipe the tears only to find
Smeared words.
Hot, angry tears drip from my eyes to my fingertips
They leak from within
They spurt furiously through my scrawling pen
And once these words arrive outside of myself
They scream out a pain and anger I've never felt
I search for a meaning to fill in this hollow space
But all that surfaces is this bitter taste
So I make this futile attempt
To make this torment come to an end
And once again
I arrive
At the edge of my sanity with my crying pen
And so I wipe the tears only to find
Smeared words.
Writing hasn't been as fluid as it used to be for me. It used to pour from my fingertips so easily. My thoughts and emotions swelled inside of me and came crashing down on the page like a tide. And now it seems I am dehydrated. I picture my thirsty voice trudging through a burning desert, coming only across mirages of redemption. And because my creative prose has ebbed so drastically, my thoughts are trapped in my mind, boiling away into a vapor. I miss the internal movement and cleansing writing typically allows me. Now it seems each sentence I write I turn back to re-read, censoring and overanalyzing myself.
It doesn’t feel natural anymore, these arrangement of words. Everything feels so contrived.
It doesn’t feel natural anymore, these arrangement of words. Everything feels so contrived.
Ryan forwarded me this HILARIOUS site of collected kitty pics with funny commentary. Here are a few of my favs:
( mas aqui )
( mas aqui )
I simply cannot focus on anything right now. I am in uber lazy mode and just keep surfing the net and messing around on MySpace. Lord knows I have so very much I need to get done but I just can't concentrate! I will be kicking myself when my deadlines creep up on me and I am stressed out of my mind. I will be saying to myself: If only I would have just a done a little piece of it every day...I will never procrastinate again...blah..blah
Kumi keeps laying under the Christams tree like she is the present and so I snapped a pic to share. I love my little Kumi!
How you always said "Bon Apetit" before every meal
How when you took our picture you would tell us to say KIMCHI! to get us to smile
How when it was bedtime you always shouted out a string of country names ...GOODNIGHT BILLY BOB, GOODNIGHT MARY JO, GOODNIGHT SUE ANN .... and on and on until you couldn't think of anymore names
Or when you would play starships with your hand to make me smile
I also loved the way you would make my teddy bears dance and sing so I would stop crying
I loved coming home from the commissary on Saturdays and having taco night while watching Star Trek
You and I would recite the opening together...Space the Final Frontier These are the Voyages of the Starship Enterprise....
I loved how you always took us to the Hawaiian shave ice stand for a treat and then we would drive around with the windows rolled down, the combination of the wind blowing in our faces and the music blaring from the radio
pulled our little family closer together
All the moments of tenderness and love you shared with Chris and I are not forgotten and illuminate the memories of my childhood.
I relive those moments all the time and feel a warmth that is rekindled from those moments and experiences of laughter and happiness.
Makeup& Hair: Liz Bryant
Photographer: Peter Turner
Model: Zarina
( ...some more )
Have you ever wondered about the people who checked out the book from the library before you? I do. I know as a book lover I am supposed to frown on books being damaged in any way, but truthfully I love to see the indications that it was once held, cradled, propped up etc. by some stranger out there in the world. I sometimes even create scenarios and characters to suit my idea of say that coffee stain on page 78 or the folded corner of page 233.
Right now I am reading a book called the The Falls by Joyce Carol Oates. Like the title implies, the book centers around the hypnotizing and alluring power of the Falls in a small fictional town, which I assume is inspired by the town Niagara in NY. Anyhow, I just noticed that the book has water damage on it which is noted on the inner page of the back cover. I found it amusing and perfectly appropriate that this book should have water damage since the protaganist (in my opinion) of the book is the roaring presence and influence of water (the Falls). For a moment last night as I closed the book and examined the water marked edges, I imagined some quiet young girl reading this book by a river and feeling so absorbed in the raw elements of nature around her and the fierce crashing of the falls in the book, she loses her grip on the book and it falls in a shallow puddle of water at her feet. I imagine she laughs and for a moment believes the power of the words printed on the page have somehow merged her worlds of imagination and reality. Maybe?
Right now I am reading a book called the The Falls by Joyce Carol Oates. Like the title implies, the book centers around the hypnotizing and alluring power of the Falls in a small fictional town, which I assume is inspired by the town Niagara in NY. Anyhow, I just noticed that the book has water damage on it which is noted on the inner page of the back cover. I found it amusing and perfectly appropriate that this book should have water damage since the protaganist (in my opinion) of the book is the roaring presence and influence of water (the Falls). For a moment last night as I closed the book and examined the water marked edges, I imagined some quiet young girl reading this book by a river and feeling so absorbed in the raw elements of nature around her and the fierce crashing of the falls in the book, she loses her grip on the book and it falls in a shallow puddle of water at her feet. I imagine she laughs and for a moment believes the power of the words printed on the page have somehow merged her worlds of imagination and reality. Maybe?
When I don't write in my journal for long periods of time, I feel that I am quietly repressing something. I say this because when I do take the time to write out how I happen to be feeling about something, in my own small way I know I am facing something inside. Even if it's something irrelevant or minute, I know I am in touch with what I am feeling and experiencing during that period of time in my life. Mind you, I am a sharer. I am not very private or secretive, nor am I one to hold things back. In fact, I am a bit verbose at times and am the perfect candidate for the TMI (Too Much Information) award too often. But I do have my own sort of denial or refusal to meet myself in the mirror with wide open eyes. It seems like I have moments or nonstop emotional purging and then I get the dry heaves. I stand above the page and I cough, hack and writhe trying to rid myself of this sickening and poisonous feeling buried deep inside of me.
I recently read this really good book by Mary Morris called, A Mother's Love. It's a story about a single mother who struggles with her past, a childhood of yearning for the mother who abandoned her at eight years old. Throughout the book, she constantly relives the times she had with her mother before she abandoned her and wonders what would have been if she had her while growing up. When I read the jacket of the book I knew I would be able to relate to the character and empathize with her feelings of inferiority and loss, so I dived right in hoping that I would find a little piece of a puzzle to why I feel the way I do sometimes. Anyhow, the author flawlessly captured the yearning feeling of wanting a mother so badly and allowing it to rule one's life without even realizing it. There is a part in the book where the character says,
"A poet once said, that those who refuse to love us have just as much power over our lives as those who do"
I wrote this sentence out because it is so relevant to me and my life. Mun has had so much power over me because she has refused to love me. And while the amazing and beautiful people who do love me have quite and influence on my life, it seems at times that those who do not love me affect me just as strongly. I guess the gist of it all is like any other situation in life, what I choose to embrace is what ultimately molds my overall experience. Oh it seems so easy written out in plain words, but in my situation, it is apparent that it is not so easy. I do not know why I choose the dark road. Perhaps I am drawn to the misery of it all. Perhaps I seek out pain to feel tortured, just to feel something. Maybe I am addicted to self pity. Because while happiness is powerful and preferable, I have found that it is the pain that makes me dig deep.
I recently read this really good book by Mary Morris called, A Mother's Love. It's a story about a single mother who struggles with her past, a childhood of yearning for the mother who abandoned her at eight years old. Throughout the book, she constantly relives the times she had with her mother before she abandoned her and wonders what would have been if she had her while growing up. When I read the jacket of the book I knew I would be able to relate to the character and empathize with her feelings of inferiority and loss, so I dived right in hoping that I would find a little piece of a puzzle to why I feel the way I do sometimes. Anyhow, the author flawlessly captured the yearning feeling of wanting a mother so badly and allowing it to rule one's life without even realizing it. There is a part in the book where the character says,
"A poet once said, that those who refuse to love us have just as much power over our lives as those who do"
I wrote this sentence out because it is so relevant to me and my life. Mun has had so much power over me because she has refused to love me. And while the amazing and beautiful people who do love me have quite and influence on my life, it seems at times that those who do not love me affect me just as strongly. I guess the gist of it all is like any other situation in life, what I choose to embrace is what ultimately molds my overall experience. Oh it seems so easy written out in plain words, but in my situation, it is apparent that it is not so easy. I do not know why I choose the dark road. Perhaps I am drawn to the misery of it all. Perhaps I seek out pain to feel tortured, just to feel something. Maybe I am addicted to self pity. Because while happiness is powerful and preferable, I have found that it is the pain that makes me dig deep.
A presence
A presence so deep it roars within me like a thundering sky
A life so connected
It clings desperately
Like the stars hang from the night
Deep in my heart I feel your budding life begin
In my soul
I feel no distance within
I feel you
I feel you
Even before you begin to move
I see you
Even when my eyes have nothing to prove
By doing so little for me in my life, you still have succeeded in having a tremendous influence in who I am today. And even though I cannot remember the distinct moment you walked out of my world, I can still feel it's monumental effect etched in every piece of me. Your departure was like a thread being ripped from a piece of cloth, it's absence shown by the gaping space where it once was; the result a pinched and frazzled fabric, forever marked by the single missing thread.
And so you sit there in your living room, countless miles away, crying on the phone to me, feeling pity for yourself. Allowing your guilt to continue to ruin your opportunity to know me. It's not too late to repair your bad choices, but yet you continue to be a ghost to me. How dare you? How could you remain so selfish? With all these years that have passed, you still cannot dredge up the strength to be a mother to your daughter? And now I carry my own child and feel even more disgust towards you.
How could you? How could you? How could you? How could you? How could you?
I became a person inside of you. I am part of you, you live in me, I live in you. And now I doubt myself. I wonder if I will have that missing motherly instinct. Because truly what you have is some sort of genetic abnormality. It is in our nature as human beings to protect our offspring. So I arrive back at the conclusion that you are missing some vital component of human nature. What if you have passed this on to me? I am so afraid I will not be good mother because of you. I am petrified that although I now feel confident in my love and devotion for my unborn child, I will somehow turn into you once they are born. What if, like me, you also felt all the "normal" emotions of a mother like love, loyalty and nurturing while you carried me, but when I was born, it all dissolved?
I try to move my life forward as an adult and fill in all these empty holes in my heart which you have dug across oceans and decades of my life, but it seems I cannot escape you. It seems that living without you has defined a piece of me, and as my words surely spell out clearly, I am BITTER. This bitterness is eatng me inside and not allowing me to see clearly, even when something is right before my very eyes.
I want to forget you and move on with building myself into a better person and enriching my life with meaning, but you are always there in the corner of my mind reminding me of who you are and what I have become.
And so you sit there in your living room, countless miles away, crying on the phone to me, feeling pity for yourself. Allowing your guilt to continue to ruin your opportunity to know me. It's not too late to repair your bad choices, but yet you continue to be a ghost to me. How dare you? How could you remain so selfish? With all these years that have passed, you still cannot dredge up the strength to be a mother to your daughter? And now I carry my own child and feel even more disgust towards you.
How could you? How could you? How could you? How could you? How could you?
I became a person inside of you. I am part of you, you live in me, I live in you. And now I doubt myself. I wonder if I will have that missing motherly instinct. Because truly what you have is some sort of genetic abnormality. It is in our nature as human beings to protect our offspring. So I arrive back at the conclusion that you are missing some vital component of human nature. What if you have passed this on to me? I am so afraid I will not be good mother because of you. I am petrified that although I now feel confident in my love and devotion for my unborn child, I will somehow turn into you once they are born. What if, like me, you also felt all the "normal" emotions of a mother like love, loyalty and nurturing while you carried me, but when I was born, it all dissolved?
I try to move my life forward as an adult and fill in all these empty holes in my heart which you have dug across oceans and decades of my life, but it seems I cannot escape you. It seems that living without you has defined a piece of me, and as my words surely spell out clearly, I am BITTER. This bitterness is eatng me inside and not allowing me to see clearly, even when something is right before my very eyes.
I want to forget you and move on with building myself into a better person and enriching my life with meaning, but you are always there in the corner of my mind reminding me of who you are and what I have become.
Love the Prince'esque beat and the choreography in the video, very seductive
Oh and I knew Beyonce wouldn't let me down, check out this video. FINALLY she comes with the Beyonce swagger I know she is known for. HOT HOT video and song.
TO THE LEFT TO THE LEFT
Oh and I knew Beyonce wouldn't let me down, check out this video. FINALLY she comes with the Beyonce swagger I know she is known for. HOT HOT video and song.
TO THE LEFT TO THE LEFT
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