Friday, November 27, 2009


Poetry has been at my fingers and on my mind lately. 
It helps channel all I think about. 
Putting it on paper is like releasing, and staking, the thoughts in my conscious.

** We're moving about this time next year, or we'll already be moved by then. It's not the type of move where I'm uprooting from everything, and everything is changing, but it seems to be all my parents ever think or talk about. We're boxing stuff up and putting it in storage, constantly, and for some reason, that bothers me. I like the dusty books on my shelves; I like my posters tacking the walls; I like my photoalbums stacked up on the ground. My parents don't get it. They want to throw everything into a box and seal it away so everything looks so crisp and clean when the house-people come looking.

Plus, a friend mentioned how I should enjoy because these holidays are probably the last in this house ... that really put me in a glum mood for some reason, thinking about it. I've had a lot of great memories in this house ... I've lived here since I was born, how could I not? All my firsts are here ... I mean, change is good ... and even though it's not uprooting change, still, I feel gloomy about it all. I shouldn't complain since I'm still in a comfortable distance from all my friends, and from school and church. I don't know why I'm so bothered. : /

I think it's also a constant foreshadowing that I will eventually have to live on my own, and that scares me. I've never really had a steady job, let alone means to live on my own. I want independence from my parents always having to help me with money or other things, but I'm scared of living on my own. What if I can't make it? Sure, I love graphic design ... but that won't provide nearly as steady of money as what I could be making ... doing something I hate? I can't compromise that. But survival is important too, right? 

I've always told myself to follow my heart, and in this aspect, I will - I'm just scared I won't be able to support myself, and will let my parents down. I don't know. I just don't know.

Also, I can't get over this complex I have with myself that everything I do is wrong, or, I can't ever seem to fix things and make things right, move them on, make progress. I feel like I always sit stagnate because I'm so scared to change, of confrontation. I MUST get over whatever beef I have with myself lately if I want to be a whole-hearted person towards someone, be there for someone, and to just feel peace again. I need to give it to God, but it's so, so hard sometimes ... 

Everything is changing,
Nothing is static.
Nothing stays good for
All I feel, all I do,
everywhere I turn feels 

Slipping, fading, thrashing, 
throwing me on my 
I see You, dimly, Lord, but always 
do I feel swallowed by these 
raging seas.

= = = = =

** My brother recently hit rock bottom again. He's so strong, but I can't help but worry if he's ever going to have consistency in his life. Once things start going well for him, he loses it all, or something terrible happens. I don't see it being fair to him, but he did call a lot of it on himself ... all of this has turned him into such a negative person to be around, and he used to be an alcoholic. He's not anymore, but for some reason, I fear he may slip back to that "comforting" substance if things don't get better soon. If he doesn't find somewhere to live ..

I just miss my brother. 
Sometimes, when he's around, I feel him to be a stranger rather than family ...

All I ask for is care,
the kind a brother should give a sister.
All I ask is for that one day,
where we played video games 'til
3 in the morning,
you letting me win every other time.
All I ask for is that Christmas tradition
we do every year, for you to not miss it 
because you're drunk or too lazy
to care.
All I ask for is that your presence
doesn't scare me or break me to pieces,
every time
remembering days where the air was 
clouded with your yelling and swearing, 
cigarette breath,
and alcoholic aura.

All I ask for is you again.
Like that one time when we walked in the cool
autumn fog in our neighborhood,
where our breath showed and we laughed
and talked about ideas,
All I ask for is you again.
Where you tracked him down, 
nearly beat that guy up
just because he teased me to the point I cried; 
how you swore you'd do that to any boy
who broke my heart.
All I ask for is your heart, your laugh
your smile, your stories, your wisdom
your bear hugs. 
All I ask for is you again.
That ghost of a brother that, now, only wanders in, 
to wander back out.

= = = = = 

** I recently, just today actually, heard news that one of my good friends recently slipped back into doing drugs and smoking. He had many ups and downs in his life, and recently, he seemed to rise back up and find his faith and stable ground in Christ again. He talked to me so much about how well his life was going because of his faith, how strong he felt as a witness at his school, all this stuff ... I could see it too, when I saw him a couple months ago. He stood a little taller, he smiled genuinely, he didn't swear or be perverted. He was genuine.

He and I would always talk about our spiritual walks, and we'd give each other advice and just keep up with one another. However, the past month or so I had realized he ahd stopped keeping up with me and I hadn't really talked to him myself either, so when I texted him, I realized he seemed sort of ... short with me. Like he didn't care to talk. Or was hiding something. It seemed like I was holding the conversation up all on my shoulders, and if I didn't pull through, it collapsed I didn't hear back from him. I knew then that something felt wrong.

Just today, I found out that news about him, and how he was ashamed and didn't think "I or my friend would like him anymore cause he does that stuff again". What hurt was that he acknowledged that he "does that stuff" and that "we may not like it" but he's STILL not stopping. He's such a smart guy, but at times, he's not at all ... I'm not supposed to know all this, so I'm going to pray hard for him and play naive, still talking to him casually like I know nothing to see if I can be an influence on him. It's hard to see someone I looked up to so much, because of their faith, fall so hard and so long back to Earthly sin and temptation again....

I know that even the most spiritual of people
can have their wings torn,
broken from under them,
and they fall.
Please, I pray, when you hit ground,
you open your eyes to
realize that flying with Him
is so much more beautiful,
than the smoke and mirrors
of drugs.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The sky's bow-tie.

The Sky briskly dons himself in velvet black,
charming, dashing,
his shoes polished and clean.
He pins a bow-tie of stars on, 
and they seem to reflect the glimmer
in his eye.
He's nervous, but remains calm, 
waiting on his darling that is
the Moon.

And as she comes, 
she's beautiful.
Gently rising,
curled in a dress of dewy clouds,
and yawning stars.
The Sky takes her, and he's breathless.
Moon and Sky, they waltz together, embraced
in love.

= = = =

Inspiration came on the car-ride home from a movie this evening (the movie, ironically, being a very laugh-out-loud, Disney comedy that has little aesthetic sense, but, whatever). I was watching the sky through the window, and saw stars that looked in the shape of a bow-tie. This spun from that.

The Sky is such a perfect gentleman, holding the dear Moon all night. :)

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Autumn nights.

Stepping out into a crisp autumn night
Is never the same thing twice. 
Sometimes fog is curling along the ground,
Maybe a different orchestra of crickets decide to play,
Perhaps fallen leaves crackle under your boots, 
a cool wind tousles your scarf,
stealing your breath and voice, 
all as you tug on your gloves, to take a sip of warm tea,
or hot chocolate.
Your choice.


As I stepped out into a crisp autumn night,
I witnessed the dimples in the moon's smile.
How she slightly tilts her head and watches
over us with twinkling eyes, 
a glowing beacon of the night.
She's a beauty against the inkiness of the sky,
and the stars just gently sing beside her,
as clouds curl into her dress and, slowly, she dances away
as the sun comes up
to awaken me to a crisp autumn day.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Izumicon 2009

for real.

If you've never been to an anime convention, it surely is a wild ride.

Probably one of the most fun, nerdiest weekends of the year, but it's entirely worth it. : )

Izumicon was actually last weekend (13th - 15th), but, I'm just now getting around to blogging about it. 

I attended this year only on Friday and Saturday, but, it was more than enough (even though it's sad to know it's over). I went with my close knit anime-lovin' friends: Cheryl, Ethan, Becky, Daryl, Andrew and Tiger. We had a BLAST together. It all went by way too fast sadly. :(

They met at my house Friday around 2-ish, and we hit the convention at 3 PM, there for opening ceremonies and all. The convention was filled with eager cosplayers, both advanced and wise and new and amateur, plus tons of excited fans and some of the best staff. The guests were very well known too - the one I most looked forward to speaking to was Vic Mignogna, who plays the role of some of my favorite anime characters: Tamaki Suoh from Ouran High School Host Club, Dark Mousy from DNAngel, Edward Elric from Full Metal Alchemist, to name a few. Plus, Vic is an astounding Christian and uses his work - voice acting in anime - as his ministry. It's great, because in the sort of work he does, Christianity and witnessing is hardly "accepted" or at least attempted. I ended up getting to hear his panel on Friday night, get his autograph, tell him how much I admire him and his strong faith, AND get an adorable picture taken with him!

It's VIC! :D

That was probably the highlight of my convention, just getting to meet and talk with him. It's hard to say a "highlight" of anything though, just because the entire convention itself was so GREAT!

Cheryl, Ethan and I competed in the Cosplay Contest, for the first time. Considering I didn't really make my cosplay - I was Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender - I wasn't really being judged, but I got to be one of the first premiered and could walk on stage anyway. It was such a rush posing and hearing the crowd cheer and be excited about your character! Ethan ended up winning 2nd overall with his Link cosplay (though, a lot of us believed he should've gotten 2nd), and Cheryl just rocked the girl power and cuteness being Sora. 

Me as Katara. Waterbending poses are so fun and look so graceful. :)

Ethan with his 2nd place winning cosplay. He earned it!

Cheryl was such a perfect Sora. :) 

Goodness, what else was there ... I felt like there's way too much a girl can possibly blog about. Another big thing we did was enter the Sidwalk Drawing Competition, Cheryl and I. That was really an experience, sitting down in the lobby and doodling away with other artists, seeing such amazing work in different styles, shapes and sizes. We chatted with some of the other artist's, and took pictures like crazy, so here are some of them!

Cheryl's completed piece :D

A lot of us drawing - there was a really good turn-out!

Such beautiful artwork ... 

I love this picture, Sora drawing Sora! Haha!

My final piece, of course, I drew Katara. Go figure.

The winning piece - well deserved, I'd say. :) 

Me and Cheryl with our drawings! :D

There was a really fun rave later Saturday night, called "Reibu: The Dubbed Dance", but sadly, we were too busy enjoying it (and resting beforehand) that I didn't many pictures. We left the convention at about 1 in the morning, later than we thought we would - but we had no regrets, the convention was extremely fun. We still were hyped up on the way home, no sleeping for us until we all crashed in our beds Saturday night/early Sunday morning, haha.

Like I said, it's impossible to real sum up an entire experience in words. It's easier when I have pictures, so, here I go posting them. Enjoy!

Posing in my Katara cosplay. 

More posing.

I think this one explains itself.


Cheryl found some ice cream Craig tried to steal D:

Close up of Ethan and some of the other winners in the cosplay contest.

Some of our friends on stage acting a skit!

FMA group!

Vic and his patchy pants :D

He made a really great Tidus!

And she made a very beautiful Yuna!

Princess Peach <3

Me and Becky :D

Goofing off before cosplay pre-judging XD

Link playing the ocarina (attempting to, I suppose).

Tiger in his original character cosplay :D

Cheryl as Sora from Digimon!


Ethan as Riku from Kingdom Hearts II.

Classic :D

Waiting in line to get Vic's autograph.

Vic's panel! Haha, I love his face. xD

Tiger and BILLYYY.

Ethan as Riku (we made him pose a lot outside xD)

I realized after looking through my pictures, our entire group never got one together. I hope to fix that so we can meet and take some pictures or something, scenic, goofy, serious and group shots of course.

Thanks for reading!

I can't wait for the next Izumicon, and Tokyo in Tulsa is this summer, aha ... *smiles*

Thursday, November 12, 2009

To be alone with your thoughts, sometimes, acts as suffocation.

To be alone with your thoughts, sometimes, acts as suffocation.

At least, I know it is for me.

I don't know what happened. This entire week has been nothing but good day after good day, after better day. 
Class has been going well.
The weather's been beautiful, or, at least not as dreary as it had been.
In dance, the teacher is pointing me out more often as doing a good job. I'm getting better in that stage of my life.
Izumicon, 2 awesome days with friends at an anime convention, is coming up this weekend.
My cosplay for said convention came in right in the nick of time, even when I thought it wasn't going to.
Everything's ... great, in theory. I'm blessed. Tremendously.

But today, after getting home early, I felt an instant mood in the house that tired me out. I fell asleep, but couldn't sleep.
I "woke" up an hour and a half later, to my bedroom room half-lit and grim feeling, and I felt sad for some reason. 
I don't know about what, but I did feel sad. And I didn't like it.

I got up and walked into the living room, seeing my brother was home talking to my parents. We all were talking about casual things, but then they 
brought up the shooting incident that happened at Ft. Hood last week.
Which reminded me of Columbine instantly.
Which for some reason, I couldn't get out of my head.
I sat there as they talked, thinking and thinking about how just anywhere, someone can just ... have the urge to kill everyone, and have the means to do it. 
People out there are so criminally insane, so put out with life, they don't care about anything.
I can't fathom the need or want to just ... kill someone. I can't fathom the idea of hating someone so much in the first place, 
let alone actually thinking about murdering them.
I sit and mope about silly high school-esque drama all the time in my life, getting upset or annoyed or angry with people over stupid things like THAT, while people out there are
sitting in darkness, with guns in front of them, knowing as they woke up, that day, they've willed themselves to shoot, and kill, as many as they possibly could.
And they didn't care what happened afterwards.

Thinking about stuff like that instantly puts me into a disposition I can't stand. I get extremely depressed. I get angry. 
I get undeniably scared, like I'd be scared to even live outside my house. I question God when I get like this, which is frightful to me the most.
Why does He let that happen? Why is there so much evil in the world? When will it all end? What if that happened to me, God, losing someone because of someone else's hatred ....
How would I cope? Would I cope?

If all that thinking wasn't enough, my brother - who'd been doing so well, living on his own, supporting himself after so much trouble he'd been through - is at rock bottom again.
I don't know everything that happened, or that it happened in the first place 'til now, but I do know he either quit his job, or lost it. 
He'd been sick the last week and a half with pneumonia and wasn't paid, so he seriously got behind in
paying for things like rent and utilities, and got booted out of where he lived. I don't know where he's living now. I don't know how he's getting by. He mentioned how
"they told me that the average person can live off $4.13 a day".
Is that how he's living now?
$4.13 was a few cents shy of the price I paid for a single frappuchino at Starbucks today that lasted me about 30 minutes.

What is that saying about me? I thought. My brother has gone through hell and back, up and down, and for some reason can NEVER seem to have something good last
for too long without it coming back around for the worse. He's always optimistic about it. Always grateful for what he does have. Has unbelievable work ethic. He never went to college, 
but he still gets by, even if it's barely. He's recovered from being a terrible alcoholic... He's living to survive.
While sometimes I'll complain if I don't get my way about something; if I have to clean, do this or that, if my parents get onto me. 
I'm not as bad as some teenagers, I will admit, but I'm sure as heck not as grateful as I need to be. I lie in bed wanting to sleep in a couple hours,
because I don't want to go to my eight AM class because "it's boring and I'm tired". While I know my brother would give anything to have the means to go to college, 
or some form of school, to be trained for a better job than restaurant after restaurant, or Jiffy Lube.

When I get into thinking like this, it seems to not leave me alone. Blogging about it here has really helped channel all my thoughts, write them down
sort them out, however, it's not HELPING. I sat in my living room, feeling instantly ugly, nearly hating myself in about every single way. I don't know how to stop it.
The questions that kill me the most, however, deal with my faith and spirituality. I know it's Satan attacking me. I know God will never leave me.
I know how much He loves me. But I'm a human, with sin, and the sin of doubt and worry, by FAR one of my worst attributes. I can feel God standing behind me as I get shrouded in my thoughts.
I can feel Him reaching out, and I'm not necessarily turning away. I'm letting Him put His hand on my shoulder, but I'm not turning around to crumple into Him, and just give everything over.
He's waiting for me to come to Him for this.

Shrouded, suffocating, I can't help but question everything about myself, and my faith .... "If something tragic happened in my life, if I was left on the street, if everything went wrong and crashed ....
would I be as cozy to God, and in love with God as I am when my life is filled with blessings and joy? Would I praise how I praise now, would I act
how I act now as a Christian, happy and "content"? Would I be proud to embrace God when I'm falling? Are these "blessings" ones I'm taking advantage of; is this
"joy" truly spiritual, or just industrialized to make me BELIEVE that way?"

God, I'm ... sorry.

Like I stated, thinking, being left alone with your thoughts, sometimes acts as a way of suffocation. Suffocating is slow and dreadful, letting life flicker on and off, instead of instantly shut down.
Thinking on such frightful, tragic things, or thinking such a way of myself, my faith, of my God, hardly has any difference to me.
It's nothing black and white, it's all the ugly, smeared colors of gray, wrapping and wrapping, not letting go.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Thoughts on Taylor Swift.

I was relaxing earlier today before class, and happened to have CMT on while I was doodling out some more thumbnails for design. I caught it right as it started, a documentary about Taylor Swift's career, how she started, and her current, 52 show 6-month tour. It was an hour long, but packed full of back-stage video, behind the scene information and a one-on-one interview with the 19-year-old star herself. 

She started as a young girl who loved to sing, and who at 13 I believe, nearly had RCA, a giant record company, to sign her for a record deal - however, they passed. She took a leap of faith by signing with a record company who's only foundation so far was a dream, but with that leap of faith came wings that helped her fly. 

Now, she's only 19, and is the youngest singer in history to be nominated CMT's "Entertainer of the Year", as well as have a platinum album and more hits blasting out the radio today. She still travels with her mother, whom she loves very much, has never had a drop of alcohol or a snuff of a cigarette in her life. She's never been clubbing, and still lives at home with her family in Tennessee. Her form of rebelling, which I thought was really cute, was the "high" she gets when  she's singing a song about someone, whether in a good or bitter fashion, and they're out in the crowd listening (since she's known for her personal, honest lyrics she writes herself, this is a unique characteristic that sets her apart). 

Taylor is mature when she needs to be, but still extremely laid-back. She's probably the sweetest, most humble superstar out there, and has branched the genres of "country" and "pop" to create an enormous fanbase. 

There needs to be more "Taylor's" out there, when it comes to entertainment and music. She honestly worked from the bottom up, and is simple a girl with her guitar and her own lyrics, singing to her heart's content -- or vent. She's far from industrialized and trashy, she's got her own style, her signature way of sharing her feelings about break-ups or love, but still manages to be fun and sweet, a perfect role model for young girls, and teenage girls, everywhere. 

Just from seeing how she is truly humble, and such a sweetheart, and liking her heartfelt music from the get-go, makes me like Taylor Swift even more now.

Yay, video time!

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Are we human, or are we dancers?

Tonight, I had the privilege of attending the Kaleidoscope Dance Recital, with one of my newly made friends - Lara - and her parents. It was $4 to enter as University of Central Oklahoma student, however, the price would NEVER have mattered in my book with the experience my eyes got to see.

The Kaleidoscope dancers are a mix of people; boys, girls, some dance majors and students, some graduated already with their performance degrees fresh at their fingertips. The dance styles varied from tap, to modern, to hip-hop to classical ballet. The performances didn't last long enough if you ask me; they seemed to start just as they ended...

Each dance, no matter what style, was like ... smelling something new. Waking up to a new day. Putting on a fresh, warm cotton shirt of a different color. Each dance had it's own personality, tone, attitude, feeling ... There was somber, haunting or evocative; there was fun and warm or friendly; there was fast-paced, determined, and each one was equally BREATHTAKING.

Watching the last act, a very upbeat, strong performance to Beyonce's powerful, touching song "Halo", showed me just how much I miss performing. When it came to actual dance performance, I only had a year with my winterguard my senior year of high school. However, I had just barely brushed with my lips the high that performing brought; it was an out of body experience, ripping out your heart and slamming it on the ground. Demanding that attention, capturing the audience's eye and hearing them wait on baited breath. The adrenaline traveling through the dancers around you, audibly displayed through brushing hands and thumping feet. Hearing all that applause, seeing the camera flashes ... Even before dance/winterguard performance, I had marching band performance, which carried its own high as adrenaline traveled through the music and drill execution, the emotion you supplied. 

But also watching these dancers put their heart out, I realize how dancing has been the one activity that honestly drains my mind of anything that could be bothering me. Whether it's stretching and relaxing, or upbeat performance, it focuses my energy and centers my mind on just the execution and emotion I need to put into it; whether I'm performing in front of people, or by myself in my living room. 

Performing, no matter what, is such an experience.

So tell me: are we human, or are we dancers?

Sunday, November 1, 2009


The Fray has such an amazing sound; and such beautiful lyrics.
I truly admire their work. This is a song off their latest album "The Fray" and the song is called "Happiness".
It's basically singing how happiness can be a curse or a blessing. 
The end verse is so versatile; singing about how "she'll be home". 
You can personify happiness here, or maybe he's singing about someone he's lost, and how the entire song he's comparing "happiness" to nothing but things that destroy you or tear you down BECAUSE he's lost this person he loves.

But, "let it go, live your life and leave it; then one day, wake up and she'll be home."

The song is beautiful to me, in a sort of bitter sweet, hopeful, haunting way, if those three can possibly be twined together. :)

Happiness is just outside my window
Would it crash blowing 80-miles an hour?
Or is happiness a little more like knocking
On your door, and you just let it in?

Happiness feels a lot like sorrow
Let it be, you can’t make it come or go
But you are gone- not for good but for now
Gone for now feels a lot like gone for good

Happiness is a firecracker sitting on my headboard
Happiness was never mine to hold
Careful child, light the fuse and get away
‘Cause happiness throws a shower of sparks

Happiness damn near destroys you
Breaks your faith to pieces on the floor
So you tell yourself, that’s probably enough for now
Happiness has a violent roar

Happiness is like the old man told me
Look for it, but you’ll never find it all
But let it go, live your life and leave it
Then one day, wake up and she’ll be home
Home, home, home.