A Word on Poetry.

I've never been the best poet. Poetry is simply one of those things that I've never tried to be good at. Not because it doesn't interest me; quite the opposite is true. But reading and writing poems serve two different purposes for me. When reading, I like to appreciate the subtle, meandering way that each word flows into the next. I notice the metaphors, the wordplay, the rhythm.

But writing poems is another story entirely. I write poems when I can't find the words to say, or when I grow tired of my own rambling monologue. It's my way of capturing moments in my life for me to tuck away until later. And when I read them again days, weeks, months later, it's like finding an old photograph that I never knew had been taken. Which means that, inevitably, some of them are downright embarrassing... while others seem to take my breath away. I never studied poetry as an English major, because I don't want my writing to seem too deliberate. I want it to be raw, real, and simple. I don't need it to be good; I need it to be truthful.

Here are some poems I wrote last spring:

4.11.10

for all my talking, 

for all my sneers and laughs

I find myself in a rather

unappealing position,

in which I wake up wondering 

how it might have happened that I am the one

gritting my teeth, my reflection tinted green, 

like the grass

where he’s standing

4.14.10

it's taken all day

to write this poem

backspacebackspacebackspace

but if this were a pencil,

and you were a line

erase erase erase

5.6.10: a retrospective

to live this way is to live on the edge of 

insanity, the brink of profundity,

where every gesture, every thought, every

twitch and jerk has meaning.

it's sitting in the sunlight and

suddenly getting that anxious feeling, like

this is dangerous

this is

terrifying

but it won't stop; it goes on 

like the cycle of days, and suddenly it's monday again, 

and time becomes endless,

abstract, irrelevent.

i twitch and i squeal with the

discomfort of knowing that this is all

wrong. 

i'm staring down at the abyss

as we fall, endlessly, until

it engulfs us so decidedly that we can hardly tell

that we're moving at all.

it's that manic feeling of watching my

limbs move of their own accord, knowing and

fearing what disasterous result lies beneath us

within us

within you.

try as i might, i can't stop

so you let loose your sinister smile and I 

look the other way.

5.8.10

I am a mystery, even to me;

the kind that wriggles and twists in

the most unpleasant ways,

meandering through the very

fibers of my being that attempt to

drive it away.

I don't send signals; I say what I mean to say.

But not always.

5.12.10

I have a secret

at least, that's what I'm supposed to say

when in reality, it's just another thing

that I haven't told you yet.

And while we wander down these roads,

twisting, and turning, and snaking our way

to an unknown end, I can't help but wonder

(in a nervous kind of way)

if I should take a wrong turn.

Would you follow? Perhaps--

but I am more than what you see. 

Take me at my worst,

but the worst I'll never be.

5.19.10

we renew ourselves each day

and while the same sun kisses our cheeks,

it sheds a new light upon old things

until we can no longer recognize them for

what they once were.

we each take our breaths, basking in these moments, 

their essences lingering

while substance may fade.

through these changes we grow, intertwined

like the roots of neighboring trees;

i can no longer guess at what is you

and what is me.

keep still-- hold on with me,

for the days we lose are moments we gain

and as for infinity, well

i'll be satisfied just to hear you say

i love you, always

Kindness.

I was going to write a whole post on kindness, but I think this conversation does a much better job than my scribbles were doing.


Anonymous: what're you up to?

Me: hrmm. Writing. Or attempting to.

Anonymous:Writing what? If you don't mind me asking.

Me: My thoughts on kindness.

Anonymous: Why did you choose that topic?

Me: Because of a conversation I had with one of my friends a while ago.

Anonymous: who me? lol. How egotistic of me.

Me: Naw, my friend _____.

Anonymous: Why did you have that conversation?

Me: Because I used to buy him lunch.

Anonymous: Oh. That's really nice. You know though, you have to be one of the sweetest people, I mean _____'s the only person who, aside from my family, that puts up with my shit. lolz
I mean and my like best friend but he doesn't count.

Me: See, that's why I'm writing this. Because I don't think that's necessarily true.

Anonymous: Why? Why do you refuse to believe that you are really nice?

Me: I'm not saying I'm not a nice person. I'm saying that everyone else is nice, too, they're just afraid to show it.

Anonymous: Ok Dr. Pangloss.

Me: It's not just senseless optimism. I really do believe that, and I've certainly seen enough proof of it in my life.

Anonymous: Okay, well if you have experienced it. You're lucky then or you just are really optimistic and try and see all the good in it.

Me: But what's the point of trying to see all the bad in everything other than to learn from it? And I've learned too much about the bad. But that's beside the point.

Anonymous: Just because people all have good in them it doesn't mean they are going to choose to show it and that makes them good by default. They HAVE to CHOOSE to show it! A MAN CHOOSES A SLAVE OBEYS missy.

Me: Well, of course. That's what I'm saying. But choosing has nothing to do with how "kind" a person is. It just has to do with the way they were raised, and how appropriate they think it is for them to show that kindness.

Anonymous: Well you're sweeter then most because you choose to be nice.
No. life is all about choice.

Me: Okay, so life is all about choice. By your own logic, why, then, do you not choose to be a confident person?

Anonymous: I do my best to choose to be a confident person, nothing is out of my power though. I could choose to ignore the silly things I get low about or I could look on the more positive side of things. But I don't because it's easier not to.

Me: Exactly. That's what i'm saying. Watch this:

I do my best to choose to be a NICE person, nothing is out of my power though. I could choose to ignore SOCIETY'S VIEW ON WHAT'S APPROPRIATE or I could CHOOSE TO BE A NICE PERSON REGARDLESS.
Same song, different verse.

Anonymous: Ok, so you choose where other people choose not to.

Me: That doesn't make me nicer than anyone else. It makes me smarter.

Anonymous: Which means that you think more of others then yourself. It makes you both.

Me: No, it really doesn't.

Anonymous: Nothing is black and white.
Why? Why can't you be both?

Me: Because I can't claim some wonderful quality that doesn't exist. And it's not modesty: I'll freely admit that I'm smarter than the average bear. I'm simply less censored.
And sure, on the small scale of things, people take it the wrong way. But that's not what it's about. In the bigger picture, it just makes the world a better place.
It's just breaking habits.




And so on.

In my mind's eye.

When I look back on my early days in theatre, this is the image I will see. And although it's not a very high quality photo, and it doesn't even begin to encompass all that I've done and been involved with, it gives me that feeling that everything is right with the world.

Cheer up, sunshine.

Sometimes we have those days (or weeks) where everything is just horrible. Where we're sick of trying so hard to achieve happiness, only to be reminded that the world is a very mean, lonely place.

I'm not having one of those days. In fact, I'm at the end of a rather good day. Which is precisely why I want to write about this now, while I have some perspective.

The truth is, this happens to me a lot more than I would like it to. Then again, having bad days at all means having them more than one would like to, right? But I digress.

It's taken me a long time to figure out what to do when I have these days. And even longer to figure out what to tell someone else who's had a rough day. But here's my oh-so-simple solution: be miserable.

Some solution, huh? But I'm serious. Some days are just plain awful, and all the good advice and shoulders to cry on in the world won't make anything better. In fact, they generally just make you want to slam your door in the face of the world and sleep your misery away. And that's exactly what needs to happen sometimes. Take every emotion that's coursing through you and just feel it. Be angry. Be sad. Be hurt. And don't hold anything back. Write angry letters (by hand, so that you don't send them to someone and regret it later). Cry. Yell. Mope. Spend the night alone.

And then when you wake up the next morning (or on Monday, if you decide your problems are big enough to dedicate a whole weekend/week to them), take a long shower, grit your teeth, and move on.

Too often we see someone who is upset and we try all that we can to cheer them up. But the way I see it, all that you can (and should) do, is gently remind them that everything will get better, that you believe in them, and that you're there if they need to talk. And if they're not ready or not willing to talk, leave them be. And hopefully, when they wake up in the morning and the world doesn't seem quite so mean, or quite so lonely, they'll remember your words and your encouragement and hopefully that'll help get them through the day.

Friendships.

I often wonder why some people "click" when they first meet, and others don't.

I've had plenty of friends-- good friends, best friends-- with whom I didn't click right away. It's certainly not necessary in any relationship. But I find that there are few things more satisfying than meeting someone who, for lack of a better word, really gets you.

Most of the time it's someone you don't expect. Like the quiet guy at the party. Your good friend's worst enemy. Your boyfriend's cousin. The guy in your high school art class that seemed like a total asshole, until you had an actual conversation with him.

Sometimes they don't have the same values as you do. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't have the same interests as you do. Sometimes they do.

Sometimes you wonder if that clicking was all in your head.

I can't seem to come up with any sort of formula for the people that I "click" with. As a general rule, I get a long better with guys, and that seems to hold true in this instance as well. Usually it's someone I'm able to have an intelligent conversation with, but sometimes it's someone I've only ever joked around with. Sometimes it's someone who seems confident and outgoing, and sometimes it's someone who's ever shyer than I am (or used to be, at least).

Sometimes I wonder if it all comes down to attraction-- that feeling you get when you just want to get to know someone. But that begs the question, what makes a person attractive to another person? What makes all these different kinds of people attractive to me? Is it one thing, or is it a combination of things? Why don't other people with these traits "click" too?

Is it all about good timing, then?

It's never too late. No, really.

Isn't it funny how there's so much generic advice floating around that even when we hear it, we never really stop to think about what it means? "Be the change you wish to see in the world," or "live life to the fullest," or "do unto others as you would have others do unto you." All those cliches that make us roll our eyes and say, "Well, duh. Now say something that's actually profound so I can ponder ways that it pertains to my life."

The one that's been on my mind lately is "It's never too late to start something" or anything along those lines. You're never too old to change careers. It's never too late to fall in love. Stuff you tell people who are going through a midlife crisis. Or your best friend after s/he just broke up with his/her significant other. Or your mom when she wants to start that yoga class. Or that 95 year old lady that you heard about on the news who finally went back to school an earned a college degree.

But what about me?

There are a lot of things I regret not being able to do when I was younger. Like have my mom teach me Tagalog while I was still learning how to speak English, or not taking dance classes back when I was determined to grow up to be the world's best ballerina. Not that I really could have changed either of those things, since my mom spent most of her time working, and we never had money for any sort of lesson outside of school anyway.

Now that I'm in college, I look around at all the different classes I can take (for free!) and a lot of those regrets come rushing back. I wish I could take a Spanish literature class, but it's been too many years since I took Spanish in high school. I wish I could double major in music, but I quit band in middle school. I wish I could audition for Aida, but I can't sing and I've never acted, and I'd trip over my own feet trying to get the dance moves right.

And just like that, I dismiss all the things that I never learned how to do. Until yesterday, when I couldn't seem to find any classes that fit my schedule for next quarter. So I picked up my course offering book and started looking through every possible thing I could take and I finally stopped in the music section, where they were offering group voice and piano lessons for non-majors. I've always wanted to play the piano, but I never had the money or the opportunity. And there it was, staring me in the face. So, I went to sign up for it and.... they weren't offering it.

I let my eyes drift down to my second option. Voice. Anyone who knows me know that I can't sing.

And then I laughed. Of course I can't sing! Because I never tried. I never learned.

And there was another one of those pesky cliched bits of advice: you can't succeed if you don't try.

So I added the class. A full ten weeks of guaranteed embarrassment. But who knows? Maybe I'll end up being good at it. It's never too late to try something new.