Kikuneechan on Xanga

Stella here.

I'm interested in a lot of things. Don't know how to pursue them, but I'm trying. Even if I'm screwing myself over in the longterm.

So what am I interested in?
I'm a poet. I enjoy reading and writing poetry. Currently, I volunteer at the Poets House on Thursdays. I'm an artist. I haven't drawn and gotten into art as much as I wanted. I toy with a few art programs such as Photoshop and Apophysis. I'm part of the Rubin Museum of Art. With them, I'm learning about Himalayan art and how to give tours there. I'm a listener. So I can't play any particular instrument outstandingly. I'm average with the piano and I want to learn how to play the guitar. I do rather enjoy singing usually with myself or karaoke-ing with my friends.

Yet, despite my obviously more 'creative' side of me, I plan to major in Computer Science. Haha.

Weblog

Sunday, 08 November 2009

Bye Bye

There never is a reason.

Tuesday, 03 November 2009

Currently
Zee Avi
By Zee Avi
The Story
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Again and Again

I was awoken by my dad's angry sharp yells. I just awoke so I was so confused. He demands to know if I drank the soymilk. I said yes. He gets into this huge fit about... stuff. I was awaken from a rather nice dream even if I felt surprisingly depressed in it. I wanted that dream back. It had Hilary and Stacy in it as well as Facebook(=.=) and some random kid named Mohammed or something. o-o;; I guess Hilary, Stacy, and I were a 'family.' The only good part was Hilary. ._.
So I broke a 'rule' which I didn't know existed in the first place. I sobbed another piece of my heart out this morning. And it's still so early.
He thinks he has so much damn, fucking power. And he does. He threatens to slam my laptop again, which I know he'll do. He's such a selfish, selfish, spoiled, selfish bastard.
So am I a horrible person for thinking horrible thoughts? Like thinking how many different ways I could kill myself. Like thinking how to kill him. Yeah, yeah, I need counselling.
But at least I'm aware that I'm going crazy, further into my mental insanity. I've glazed over so many details of my life. I wanted to call someone to talk to. I would feel uncomfortable talking to Qian because she'd be like "... Okay.. Aww..." in an awkward manner. I felt uncomfortable talking to Hilary because everything happy should be with Hilary (well, for the most part). I felt awkward talking to Helen because her situation is different from mine. She has older sisters, which I never dealt with, but I can kind of empathize with the younger sibling. I almost called Kattherine just to ask her to look up child abuse for me and we can go from there. I debated calling Stacy to look up child abuse for me also. I've realized that I could've lied to say that child abuse was part of my 'story.' I almost called Michael because he was part of SPARK, and maybe he could help me?
I haven't called anyone.
My restrictions now? Even more so. No laptop until college. Bye bye darling. I'm backing up what's left of my pathetic life on the stupid 40GB thing that isn't compatible with XP or Macs. Eh, fuck my life.

Sunday, 25 October 2009

Currently
Breakaway
By Kelly Clarkson
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What is love?

How do I feel about love? What do I think love is?
I believe love is subjective. Who am I to say what love truly is? But if you ask me how I feel about love, I'll tell you.
Love is something between two (or more) people that can't be explained because "love" is too simple of a term to explain it. Love is something that won't get in the way of Life even though Life's a pain in the arse. Love is something that will allow two (or more) people to spend time together, whether it be noisy and outgoing or simple and quiet. Love is something that allows two (or more) people to be able to connect to each other. Love doesn't have to romantic. Love can be purely platonic. Love is showing others that you're there for them, that you'll listen and understand even if you don't understand. Love is showing others that you care, that you'll support them. Love is when you can tell them honestly how you feel about them, what you think is right or better for them, even if they don't listen. Love is when you try to take care of them even if they're spinning into somewhere that'll destroy them. Love is trying really hard for someone else.
Love can't be explained.
On the other hand, sugar cane is really yummy to chew.

Thursday, 15 October 2009

How do you remember your dreams?

Are your dreams always fuzzy? You sort of remember it when you wake up, but as the day drags on, you just can't seem recall what it was about? You can remember the feelings you've felt, but aren't sure why?
Yeah, I used to feel like that too. I figured out how to kind of remember dreams. When I wake up, there's always this one really vivid image in my mind. It could be rather inconsequent, just a passing phase, but once I start linking it to others, I can remember many more parts of my dream. It's absolutely awesome. I may occassionally find myself trying to remember what a certain dream was about, but then-- my mind just flashes back to that one instant I imprinted into my mind. Suddenly, my dream's a whole lot clearer.
Teehee~ Just some advice. [;0
For example? I died in my dream and I woke up feeling rather paralyzed (as I was 'struck by lightning'). One of the few instances I remember dreaming myself dying. How did I remember? I remember laying on the couch, watching my mom and my sister. Haha, that image is really vivid. [:0

Thursday, 08 October 2009

Je le deteste... And part of my life story.

I absolutely hate him. I have never felt such anger, sadness, and hatred before. It mixes in and depresses me. I'm always surprised at how, whenever this happens, I'm able to bounce back the next day and pretend such things have never happened before. I feel pathetic.
On the other note, I really need to see SPARK. Absolutely no kidding.
Why? Meh. I don't like delving into my sad, unhappy, dark life and explain myself and the complexities of myself. You'll have to figure me out yourself. I kind of hate talking about all the sad things about me. I'd rather focus on the happier things and have people listen to what I say. Hardly happens, but I can still try.
On another note, I've officially joined approximately 7 or so things this year... And I want to commit to these things because I really am interested. I just don't have as much time I wish. I'm just killing myself... But, hey, if I can maintain an overall good grade, what is that saying about me? [;0
Anyways... Time to talk about the strangling, smothering restrictions on me. I can't go on my laptop for more than 2 hours on weekdays and 3 hours on weekends, including holidays. I'm expected to shut down my laptop by 8PM on weekdays and 6PM on weekends, including holidays.
Time to talk about what happened yesterday... Should I?
I got home late yesterday. After 7PM because I went to RMA. And I want to stay committed at RMA. I really need a commitment or 5. I don't really remember what happened anymore. Long story short, 8PM comes. He comes and demands me to shut down my laptop. I tell him I need to do my homework. He yells at me. I twitch, but I was going to hibernate my computer anyways. He comes and slams my laptop shut. He yells at me to shut down my computer, that he would destroy it, that it would be so easy to do so. He punches it. So damn hard. So damn hard... Je le deteste. Long story even shorter? My laptop screen is fucking cracked and I can't see the left side of it. Not even 3 months old, and my baby is pretty much gone from me.
Oddly enough, I waste my time typing part of my life story instead of hurrying to finish what homework I can before 8PM. So I can't see part of my screen. Oddly enough, I was able to type this without cracking. Kinda like I'm really empty. I kinda sobbed my soul and heart out. I really wanted to call someone and talk to her. (No him because I lack in male friends.) I didn't know who to call and sob my other heart and soul out. So I didn't.
My life sucks. So I kind of hate it when other people complain about their life. No offense, Helen. No offense, Stacy. Yeah, I thought about you two. Bob doesn't even tell me her life story.
Anyways, I started my hw at 11PM yesterday. I didn't all of it. Go me. I slept at 1AM. Latest yet this year. And that's fucking horrible. Woke at 6:15AM. 5 hours of sleep. Bought Red Bull today. Managed to survive.
So, how was I today? I didn't seem depressed, did I?
[I can totally ace Creative Nonfiction at this rate.]