Dear God.

In the name of Allah, most Gracious, Most Merciful.

Dear God,

You know me best, better than myself.

I heard it said that we were made in God's image. I do not know if this is true. I also heard it said that God is too great to be imagined, beyond the human imagination. I think this has a greater likelihood of truth, but I also instinctively feel that humans beings cannot be so much below and insignificant to God, or else why would (He) have made us and made us khalifah on this earth?

Well, as I was saying, you know me better than myself. Please bring me peace, and guide me to the path that has your approval and blessing, and restrain me from things that will harm me, that I know not of. Yet give me enough knowledge, good and true knowledge so that I will become someone useful in society.

Please grant me peace and happiness, on this life and the life after. I am just one girl, an insignificant being but I want to lead a greater life, only I do not know how. Only with your permission. Please make me a better worshipper, please let me be among those who is granted mercy and privilege by you.

i wonder why I go through bouts of sleepiness and extreme unsleepiness

A finger, two stars, then me
by Derrick C. Brown.

Lying together in the park on Seventh,
our backs smoosh grass and I say
I will love you till I become a child again,
when feeding me and bathing me is no longer romantic,
but rather necessary.

I will love you till there is no till.
Till I die.
And when that electroencephalogram shuts down, baby
that's when the real lovin' kicks in.

Forgive me for sounding selfish
but I won't be able to wait under the earth for you
(albeit a romantic thought for groundhogs,
gophers and the gooey worms).
I will not be able to wait for you...

but I will meet up with you
and here's where you will find me:
get a pen--

Hold your finger up
(two fingers if your hands are frail by now)
and count two stars directly to the left
of the North American moon.
You will find me there.
You will find me darting behind amazing quasars
Behind flirtatious winks
of bright and blasting boom stars!

Sometimes charging so far into space
the darkness goes blue.
I will be there chasing sound waves
riding them like two-dollar pony ride horses
that have finally broken free and wild.
I will be facing backwards, lying sideways,
no hands, sidesaddle, sometimes standing
sometimes screaming zip zang zowie!
My God, it's good to be back in space... Where is everybody?

You will recognize my voice.
You will see the flash of a fire trail
burning off the back of me
burning like a gasoline comet kerosene sapphire.
This is my voice.
Don't look for my body or a ghost.
I'll resemble more a pilot light than a man now.

I'm sure some will see
this cobalt star white light from earth
and cast me a wish like a wonder bomb.
And I'll think "Hmmph. people still do that?"

I'm sure I'll take the light wonder bombs
to the point in the universe
where sound does end.
The back porch of God's summer home.

It's so quiet here, you float.
It feels the way cotton candy tastes.

I say to him... why do I call you God?
He says 'Because Grand Poobah sounds ridiculous.'
(Who knew he was so witty?)
I ask him 'Lord, so many poets have tried to nail it and missed, what is holy?'

At that moment,
the planets begin to spin and awaken
and large movie screens appear on Mars, Saturn and Venus
each bearing images I have witnessed
and over each and every clip flashes the word holy.

armadillos--holy
magic tricks--holy
cows' tongues--holy
snowballs upside the head--holy
clumsy first kisses--holy
sneaking into movies--holy
your mother teaching you to slow dance
the fear returning
the fear overcome--holy
eating top ramen on upside-down frisbees
cause it was either plates or more beer--holy
drunk beach cruiser nights--holy
the $5.00 you made in vegas
and the $450.00 you lost--holy
the last time you were nervous holding hands--holy
feeling God at a pool hall but not church--holy
sleeping during your uncle's memorized dinner prayer--holy
losing your watch in the waves and all that signifies--holy
the day you got to really speak to your father cause the television broke--holy
the day your grandmother told you something meaningful
cause she was dying--holy
the medicine
the hope
the blood
the fear
the trust
the crush
the work
the loss
the love
the test
the birth
the end
the finale
the design
in the stars
is the same
in our hearts
the design
in the stars
is the same
in our hearts
in the rebuilt machinery of our hearts

So love, you should know what to look for
and exactly where to go...

Take your time and don't worry about getting lost.
You'll find me.
Up there, a finger and two dots away.
If you're wondering if I'll still be able to hold you
...I honestly don't know

But I do know that I could still fall for
a swish of light that comes barreling
and cascading towards me.

It will resemble your sweet definite hands.
The universe will bend.
The planets will bow.
And I will say "Oh, there you are. I been waitin' for ya. Now we can go."

And the two pilot lights go zoooooooom
into the black construction paper night

as somewhere else
two other lovers lie down on their backs and say
"What the hell was that?"

Good Advice

Once Ziqian told me to be good to myself, and to love myself.

It was very simple and true advice, but i don't really know how to do it.

I think i have a great capacity for love, and wouldn't it be great if i could channel all this energy on myself instead of others who do not deserve it?

So I am going to take sometime and ruminate on how I am good and wonderful, objectively.

1) I think I have a sensitive soul. i can write poetry, i can appreciate simple poems, i love a good heartfelt soulful song, i love song lyrics and i can appreciate art. I cary over good books.
2) I think i make quite a good friend. Sometimes. I listen to others and try to be encouraging.
3) I try to be a good daughter, although I am lazy, I try not to do things that will disappoint or hurt my parents.
4) I can be pretty smart sometimes.

Why is this list so short?
Shucks...

I understand now.

halfway through looking at slides for privacy and confidentiality in the uncharacteristically empty library it dawned on me. i got enlightened. i know why we are not meant to be.

It's because I don't touch you. i didn't change you and i didn't cause you to become the person you are now, with your beliefs and reactions and approaches. i am not apart of your history and i don't have a shape in your heart. and i can't change you. somehow i am sure of that. i don't touch you.

the same goes for me.

if everyone is travelling the roads of our lives, our experiences cling to us permanently, whether as good or as bad baggage. and here we are, you and i, standing facing each other across the road, constantly trying to cross the road to the other one but held back by the traffic, and all that baggage we both can't drop. we both want to but we can't. We see the accident waiting to happen. maybe you saw it before me. how can you change someone standing on the other side of the road, how can you chnage his speed when it's different from yours?

You have your whole history behind you, and so do i. one cannot re-write history, one cannot make roads merge, and one cannot touch fate, just because one wants to, so badly.

i don't touch you. i didn't touch you, i didn't hurt you and i didn't cause you to live more cautiously. it was someone else.

i don't want to care

i wish my heart wouldn't care so much to see you look sad. i wish you wouldn't look sad.

but it's not my fault.It's not my fault at all, and you have to figure your things out on your own.

Today I realised-

I am worth something, and I will not be bought with a string of glass pearls, like the little girl in Joy Luck Club

the peace of wild things

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

pincushion heart

My threads are unravelling
No one should see the colour of my lining
Poke me and sew me back up,
Then trim me with scissors, shiny and sharp.

FIlled with nothing but cotton and air,
A silky surface smooth and bare,
Tempting, to stick your needles into me,
Gore me, tear me, rend me

Because there's nothing in me but cotton and air,
I absorb flows on the edge, with my flare,
Lay your sleeping head on me,
Let me internalise your nightmare

Can't hurt
I won't need
I don't bleed
No more words in my
Pincushion heart.

to myself

To Myself
by Franz Wright

You are riding the bus again
burrowing into the blackness of Interstate 80,
the sole passenger

with an overhead light on.
And I am with you.
I’m the interminable fields you can’t see,

the little lights off in the distance
(in one of those rooms we are
living) and I am the rain

and the others all
around you, and the loneliness you love,
and the universe that loves you specifically, maybe,

and the catastrophic dawn,
the nicotine crawling on your skin—
and when you begin

to cough I won’t cover my face,
and if you vomit this time I will hold you:
everything’s going to be fine

I will whisper.
It won’t always be like this.
I am going to buy you a sandwich.

GOTTA SNAP OUT OF THIS FUNK.
it doesn't feel good to be a lazy bitch :(

A wish

happy chinese new year, andy hong

everything little tihng, is gonna be alright

i am kinda in love with my equity prof.
it's not a horrid feeling :)

what's different this time?

I am starting to see that I have to depend on myself

one last tender lie

I can't do this anymore because you make me wonder why I'm so unlovable, and it hurts me.

I just don't want to hurt anymore.

wimp.

it's starting to piss me off that i have no claim over him.

no right to know, where he is, where he's going, what he's doing, when he wakes up and what time he sleeps.

no right to tell him to stop smoking.

no right to be jealous that he's calling and laughing, and texting and going shopping with his girl best friend.

no right to be sad that he still misses his ex.

what a soft-hearted wimp i am, what a sucker.