Memory

"As far as I can remember..." ~

"Way back then..." ~

"Remember when...?" ~

All very typical phrases used today. ~ We live in the past as much as the present, and sometimes even more so. ~ Do you ever think back to when you were younger and smile at your own innocent naivety? ~ Or do you ever yearn to be "back in the day," when things were simpler, clearer, easier? ~ I certainly do. It's as if time if only bogging me down, turning its endless wheel over and over until life becomes a dreaded monotony. ~

Yes, yes, there is a word for this symptom: boredom. ~ A luxury when one is busy, true, but a curse when it descends like an evil cloud of doom. ~

But really... What makes us such easy prey for the past? ~ Why does it have such a powerful grip on all of us? ~

I believe the answer might lie in the future. ~ (Gosh, prophetic much?) ~ In essence, the present is the future of the past. ~ We often do not realize that the bright new future we were so looking forward to when we were younger is happening... right now. ~ All that planning, all those years when we thought, "Everything will be better in the future!" ~ That's today. This moment. Right now. ~ And yet we do not have that feeling of awe anymore. ~ Now that we are older, "wiser" and the future versions of our past selves, we once again have a new future to look forward to. ~ Whether it be tomorrow, next week, or in five years' time, we always think that there will be something better waiting for us. ~ And while this is true to some extent, we must remember that we ourselves are the ones that will determine our future. ~ Think of where you are right now. ~ How did you get here? ~ The answer is simple: By what you did, what happened to you and how you responded, by your past. ~ Now think to the future. ~ Where do you want to be? ~ Are you headed the right way to get there? ~

Personally, it's hard to tell. ~ After all, how many of us are psychics? ~ Not me, that's for sure. ~ So the answer is yet again to simply plow on. ~ But does that not defeat the whole purpose of "constructing your own future?" ~ Oh dear, this appears to be a vicious cycle. ~ Now, how to break it? ~

I believe that a plan is in order. ~ Have not many countries followed successful Five Year Plans? ~ Look at the disastrous American economy. ~ Wouldn't a Plan have maybe prevented or at least alleviated the damage done? ~ If you have a goal, and a way to reach it, and do not veer from your path, then naturally your chances of reaching that goal increase. ~ Realistic, carefully thought-out and, this being very crucial, flexible Plans are the true route to success. ~

Why flexible? ~ Well, think back to the failed Schlieffen plan. ~ It was too precise, too dependant on a smooth carry-out. ~ Ultimately, it failed because of this. ~ Nothing ever goes exactly the way we believe or hope it will, so why force it? ~ Leave wiggle room, but still make a detailed plan. ~ Balance, in the end, is key. ~

Special thanks to AB for tolerating my writer's block self, and the extensive conversation that ensued which has helped to improve this post. ~ I have great friends, truly. ~

Betrayal

Betrayal is a mockery of trust. ~ It takes up the feeling of loyalty, which is so hard to come by in this God-forsaken world, and just tears it up, stomps all over it. ~

Betrayal is not just hurting someone. It's hurting someone you know, someone who loves you and whom you trusted. ~

Betrayal is a cold-hearted beast with the face of an angel. It creeps up on you when you least expect it, and then, when it's too late, you know you're a goner. ~ You've been hurt by someone on the inside. ~

Taking advantage of a stranger is one thing. It'd be human - after all, we're all still specimens of Darwinism, i.e. survival of the fittest. ~

But when you betray someone - that's just inhuman. Breaking previously forged bonds, shaming respect and innocence, shredding integrity. ~ No wonder betrayal was a crime worthy of hanging back in the day. ~ That feeling of being stabbed in the back by a loved one leaves bitter hate in one's soul. ~ The sweeter the love, the darker the hate. ~

Betrayal cannot be overlooked lightly. ~ Forgiveness is so much harder to bear than hate. Why not nurture the need for revenge, that all-consuming yet oh-so-satisfying hellish flame within every human soul? ~

For all of us are just one betrayal away from the dark side. ~ Betrayal is the Sarajevo assassination of our otherwise peaceful lives, the spark that can set off a World War of catastrophic consequences. ~

Oh, woe. ~

And that is why it hurts to love. When you fall for someone, betrayal will undoubtedly be starring in the near future. ~ We humans are ruled by our emotions, and love is as dangerous as hate, for love is but a bittersweet prologue to betrayal. ~ It sets a pastoral scene for the brewing storm, the twister ready to engulf your heart at any minute. ~

So I shall guard my heart. ~ Love with caution, or not at all. ~

Blurb of Joy

School has been extremely stressful lately. ~ What with Christmas break approaching, teachers are all in a hurry to get marks in. That haste shows up on our faces as deep, dark pockets under our eyes. ~

So amid all this stress, I try to look on the small, happy details of life. ~ Most unlike my pessimistic nature, but then, desperate times call for desperate measures. ~ (Realpolitik.) ~

First of all, I've managed to inspire two people to start their own blogs. ~ This is one of the best feelings a writer can have. ~ These two brilliant people have writing styles quite different from mine, another bonus. ~ They're creating a little niche for themselves in the digital world. ~ As much as I sound like a mother hen writing this, this makes me so proud! ~ I shall be co-writing posts with them in the near future, something for both you and me to look forward to! ~

Also, December means Christmas. ~ Truly the most wonderful time of the year. ~ I celebrate by listening to carols. ~ I've discovered a particularly touching one - "The Cat Carol," the unlikely yet heart-warming story of a Christmas miracle. ~ As well, I enjoy listening to the saucy "Santa Baby," which always brings a smile to my face. ~ And of course, the classics, including, but definitely not limited to, "Jingle Bell Rock," "Winter Wonderland," and "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree."

Ah, time to get back to work. ~ Look out for my next post, which will be coming sometime very soon! ~ (A little marketing never did anyone any harm, right?)

Thoughts on Marriage

After interviewing seven intelligently well-spoken young adults with the question "What are your thoughts on marriage?", I compiled their various results and present them here for scrutiny. ~

Some find marriage "redundant" and "overrated," while others stick with the orthodox "important" and "good." ~ Another affirms that entering marriage is like experiencing "a different world." ~ Still another states that marriage is "scary." ~ Obviously, opinions differ greatly. ~

One that particularly touched me was through a boy's direct statement: "Personally, I wouldn't want to spend my life alone. To my buddies, I say it's because I don't want to make my own sandwiches. Real reason? I think it would be pretty depressing coming home after work to an empty house..." ~

What a true point. ~ A house without laughter, without love, is just an empty shell. ~ Spending life alone is not a pleasing thought. ~

Then there's the more misogamic point of view: "I see no point for it. Women use it as a way of security. [Some people] just haven't been in a [steady] relationship. It gets too disgusting, like mishy-mushy, you know? Fades after two weeks." ~

Eek. ~ Another good point. ~ Hormones induce a feeling of love that seems to be genuine. However, once the honeymoon phase is over, reality sinks in and you might discover that your partner is not as perfect as he or she seemed to be. ~

Two of the boys I interviewed both treat marriage as a sacred rite: "I think when being in a marriage, I am responsible for both of the family members. When I commit to love someone, I should just love that [one] person." ~

As well: "Marriage is something meant to legally combine two individuals as one spiritually. The two people undergo an occasion that will mark their anniversary, their legacy, and the fact that they are bonded together with the promises they will have to swear in front of many." ~

Truth be told, I agree most with the two following people: "I think that couples don't need such a ritual, and many couples today are choosing to not marry. [Marriage] should be thought of as just a practice. [It should be] a choice made by the individual, not one that is forced upon the individual by society." ~

As well: "It makes more sense if [marriage didn't exist], since after that initial act, you are obligated to remain faithful. But if you loved that person to such an extent anyways, the ceremony isn't really needed." ~

To me, marriage is simply a legal act. ~ We have built it up to a true bond, something that will overcome all, that in itself will be the glue that holds a couple together. ~ But in our society, infidelity is more common than true love. ~ Sure, there are the happy old couples living together after all these years, but do we truly understand the difficulties of marriage? ~ Do we want to risk the pain that comes with marriage, when it would be so much simpler to deal with a break-up? ~ I'm not saying marriage is bad. ~ Only... is it good enough to carry through with? ~

In the end, one girl sums it up pretty well: "You're basically dedicating yourself to one person that you probably don't know completely. But I think that if you get a good marriage, it's going to be really worth it. So... I want a good guy." ~

Special thanks to you seven who so graciously accepted to be interviewed. ~ Seriously, all the conflicting emotions I had and still have over marriage were presented in your views. ~

Dihydrogen Monoxide

It's hot out. ~ Scalding, really. ~ Your tongue is parched to the extreme. A dull throbbing pain in your throat prevents you from swallowing. ~ You rush in to the cool air-conditioned house, but even that does not soothe your burning need. ~ In haste, you run to the sink and open the faucet. ~ A cool stream of liquid bursts forth. ~ Shivering with anticipation, you take a gulp. ~ Instant relief. ~
Sounds like a drug, doesn't it? ~ In truth, we undoubtedly are addicted to this precious, unique solvent. ~ Polar, small, high surface tension, high heat capacity... Its wondrous properties are endless. ~
Water. ~ *Cue heavenly angels singing.*
For once, perhaps, I am not exaggerating. ~ Really. ~ Water is indispensable. We use it to drink, to travel, to dissolve other substances, to clean, to wash, to calm, to play... When is water not important? ~ What makes Earth such a unique planet within the solar system and possibly even the entire universe is precisely its numerous large bodies of water. ~
Water has also taken on symbolic meaning in literature. ~ Rebirth, in the case of a fetus surrounded by the mother's amniotic fluid. ~ A pure quality, as in the cleansing and washing away of the old ways of life. ~ Rejuvenation, as in the fountain of youth. ~ Water is so mysterious, so beautiful, so tantalizing. ~ In Pirates of the Caribbean, Jack Sparrow, in his usual devil-may-care way, says "my first and only love is the sea." ~ Indeed, I suspect many a sailor has fallen in love with this wild, untamable lady and been lured into her depths. ~ She is beautiful, true, but dangerous. ~
I've often gazed longingly yet with certain fear into deep water, wondering what it hid in its depths. ~ The strange underwater worlds has inspired so many myths and legends that it would be a shame to unveil its true self. ~ Yet science plows on. ~ Off topic here. ~
The miracle that is water, this transparent fluid that may become a source of worry due to the endless contamination we force upon it, should forever remain a priority in our minds, something to cherish and something to keep pure. ~ After all, when the pure is soiled, what hopes do we, the tainted human race, have of ridding ourselves of the dirt that we accumulate on our hands? ~

Unique

I've recently thought about uniqueness and it really got the gears in my head turning. ~ My original theory is that we are all unique because though we do to the same things, have the same hobbies and even occasionally think like many other people, no other person is exactly the same as us. No one else has the exact same combination of everything as we do. ~

But then, none of this really amounts to much. You might be unique, but so is everyone else. ~ Being unique begins to sound like a given, something not even worth thinking about. ~ But that can lead to all sorts of speculation. ~ Most of us need a purpose in life. We want something to live for, something to look forward to, some reason we exist. ~ But if we are not all unique, then how do we do this? ~ Uniqueness is important after all, and it must be reaffirmed continuously for us to feel good about ourselves. ~

I've recently listened to a few concerts, and one that really stood out to me was the performance of the highly talented Jan Lisiecki, piano virtuoso at the tender age of fifteen. ~ It makes me wonder if maybe geniuses such as this young pianist are more unique than the rest of us? ~ Were Einstein, da Vinci, and Walt Disney all so exceptionally talented because of their uniqueness? Is uniqueness not the root of originality, and therefore new ideas? ~
So maybe that need to feel special stems from a greed for recognition. ~ Is it not nice to be acknowledged for one's superiority, for one's genius? ~ We all want so desperately to be unique. ~ And some of us succeed, whether it be in the standard way, like Lisiecki, or in the unusual way, like Lady Gaga. ~ Just strive to be yourself, though that might prove to be toughest challenge of all, and that's how you'll come to be at peace with yourself and your quest for uniqueness. ~

The IB Theory

I've revealed it. ~ Not that anyone who knows me personally doesn't already know about the torturous program in which I'm enrolled. ~ Yes, I'm in IB. ~
Moving right along, I've recently developed a theory on the International Baccalaureate program. (Incredible, I didn't even have to check the spelling of that.) ~ As any IB student knows, the homework load dropped upon our fragile young shoulders is substantial. And by substantial, I mean HUGE. ~ Now that I'm "officially" in IB, I have come to terms with this reality within my first week of school. ~
Have the rest of you IB children not realized how completely over-compulsive, paranoid and unstable the character of IB is? ~ Uncertainties must be expressed in the sciences to express the sad fact that we humans are not perfect. ~ It seems as if Group IV is an opportunity for us poor lifeless kids to have a social life. ~ In literature, there has not been a single book or play in which someone has not had a symbolic death. ~ The study of history is strangely concentrated on genocide, over-exploitation, and slavery. ~ In math, one can only rely on the trusty TI-84 as we take the plunge into paradoxes and the possibility of a non-existent infinity. ~ And remember, failing is all right, because it'll still be above the class average. ~
So why does IB put us through this misery? ~ Here comes the theory. Yes, I just made you read an entire prologue to my theory, my thesis. ~ Which is the following: IB cruelly forces us to undergo hours upon sleepless hours of reading, analyzing, writing, rewriting, editing, re-editing, then re-re-editing, to push us to our deepest, darkest, most morbid limits. ~ And upon reaching that extreme, we release our true inner potential to think. ~ Indeed, all the great works of old sum up as being revelations of the dark side of human nature, only attainable by stretching one paper-thin with exhaustion, bad news and sheer despair. ~ Sounds eerily like IB, doesn't it? ~
So as we all board this train that will carry us to IB hell, praying to the fickle IB gods for salvation, let's take comfort in this simple fact: anything that life throws our way will be nothing compared to the horrors we will have studied and experienced on our International Baccalaureate journey. ~

Weather

It rained today. ~
Weather has always affected my mood. ~ On sunny days, I suck up vitamin D and gain a boost of positive energy that charges me right up and keeps me bouncing along happily for the day. ~ Blue skies especially brighten my mood, the endless, pure shade of azure always bringing a smile to my face. ~
Snow calms me and sets me in a pensive state, often causing me to muse about life as I walk through the gentle speckle of snowflakes. I also think snow sets a picturesque scene, purifying the world by blanketing everything in a gentle dusting of white. ~ Mind you, blizzards are another affair. They conjure up images of horrifying white, blinding and cutting wind, and freezing to death. ~
Fog is a typical bringer of mystery. ~ Who hasn't had thoughts of Scotland Yard and British detectives roaming about with their magnifying glasses when walking through a thick early-morning fog, or shivered deliciously with wonder at what lay just out of sight, shrouded in a wispy layer of mist? ~
Then there are those drab, blah days of gray, when I know it's going to rain, but not just yet. ~ Clouds cover the sky and the sun, darkening everything, including my mood. ~ These days are just puke-worthy. If the sky isn't making an effort to appear happy, then why should I? ~ On these days, staying inside irritates me and going out chills me. There's no interesting sense of mystery or daring that comes with a fog, or that calming, appreciative feeling that comes with snow, but instead only a depressed, feeling-sorry-for-myself spark that flickers without kindling anything. ~ I can't stand these days. ~
Yet when the rain starts to fall, everything changes. ~ The sky is still gray, yet the gentle rain that slowly strengthens from drizzle to downpour livens the atmosphere. ~ When I'm inside, the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the roof plays a gentle tune that lends the house a cozy, warm beat, perfectly complimenting the soft glow of the lights turned on with the anticipated arrival of rain. ~ Gazing out the window, I see rivulets of water racing each other down the pane, with me secretly cheering my favourite one on. ~
Sometimes, when it rains lightly, I can't even tell unless I find a puddle pockmarked with drops falling in. ~ Then there are those times when bombarding sheets of rain drop like waves from the sky. Giants seem to be dancing on the roofs when this happens, muting all other sounds and causing an excited rush to the window to watch as the sky opens its contents to the land. ~ I can practically feel the plants and grass drinking and bathing in this wonderful excess of precious water. ~
The rain has stopped. ~ I step out, taking a deep breath. The smell of wet grass fills my nose, along with that earthy smell always present after rain. ~ This is the best part. ~ I love knowing how much the rain has helped the world to grow. ~ Maybe the rain will help my soul grow, washing away the bad thoughts brought on during the drab day. ~ "Après la pluie, le beau temps," they say, but why not enjoy the miracle of rain itself? ~

Gustation

Gustation. ~ What an awesome word. Saying it aloud resembles eating something meaty and full. The word fills up my mouth, leaving a whisper of a smile on my lips. ~
Taste is seemingly one of the most useless senses. ~ We (should) eat because we need to, not because we want to. Yet to satisfy our taste buds, we will often stuff our gluttonous mouths with any of the huge assortment of foods available to us privileged North Americans. ~
Indeed, maybe taste was a curse for some of us. Obesity has become a rising problem... Are our taste buds maybe guilty in some way? ~
Sourness, detection of acidity, or concentration of hydronium ions, within a substance. ~ Often sourness is associated with a recoiling, face-pinching image. ~ Yet many love the strong, face-pulling taste of lemons, sour candy, or vinegar. ~
Bitterness. ~ An unpleasant taste, at least to me. ~ Again, though, I know more than one friend who loves the taste of bitter melon. ~ A horrendous thought, but then, to each his own. ~
Saltiness, detection of sodium ions and other alkali metals. ~ Enjoyable in moderate amounts, overpowering in large doses. ~ Salt, I've noticed, seems to accentuate and empathize the true flavours of some otherwise bland dishes, such as egg soup, bok choy, or even meat. ~ No other condiment can replace salt. As long as you have some of these crystals of white sodium chloride, any dish will become edible. ~
Sweetness. ~ Smile, we've reached the most pleasant of all tastes. ~ Indeed, tasting something sweet oftentimes will make my lips naturally curve up. ~ As usual, though, too much of something can harm. Ever seen someone on a sugar rush? It's its own caffeine. ~
I've only touched on four tastes, yet there are so many more. Indeed, the most interesting tastes are those that are hard to describe, mixes of different standard flavours. ~ Take sweet and sour soup, for instance. A sweet soup seems tasty, as does a mildly sour one, but this excellent combination is truly a breakthrough. Food that's interesting! Now that's innovation. ~ I have wished more than once to become a culinary master, chef of some famous five-star restaurant, possessing a mental flavour palette of all kinds of food, both common and unheard of. ~ If taste can reduce us to couch potatoes, why not take advantage and market to it? ~
By the way, credits to Lucy Chu for this crazy-cool medley of pics! So many of my friends have such wonderful Photoshopping skills... I bow down to your mastery of technology! ~

Touch

I've taken a break from blogging recently because I've been in another rut of writer's block. But perhaps the easiest to climb out is by clicking away on my trusty keyboard? ~

Our sense of touch. ~ The most tangible of all. We see, we naturally want to reach out and touch. ~ Touching an object with our own two hands means truly knowing this object, learning its texture, size, the feel of it in our hands, how it tickles our skin as we lightly brush our fingertips across its surface... ~

Why do babies have blankies? Why do people have precious objects, such as necklaces, which they keep on themselves at all times? ~ Simply because touch gives us a sense of concreteness that is otherwise unattainable. It reassures us, grounds us. ~

My friend mentioned an interesting point the other day when I asked her about her favourite sense. ~ Her simple yet direct reasoning made me smile: "Because with the sense of touch, you don't need eyes! Like blind people learning to read and such with just their fingers." ~ I concur. Touch saves us many a time when our eyes aren't useful. ~ How many times have you felt your way around your dark house at night, doing your best not to bang into furniture? Touch remains our ever-present guide, the sense that never disappoints, is never restricted by our surroundings. ~ Though our eyes offer one way of perception, our fingers can touch and learn in their own unique way. Truly, touching is so instinctive it's no wonder we've put so much value to feeling. Silk, velvet and lace are all easily soiled, yet ladies of old and young have still invested much money for these prized fabrics. All for the luxury of touch. ~

Man, touch is a hard sense to write about. I wonder why? ~

Olfaction

How ironic that I'm writing this post with a sadly stuffy nose preventing me from enjoying the refreshing scents of summer. ~ But I haven't forgotten the sweet sensation of delicious smells tickling my nose, so I'll go from there. ~

Scents have always intrigued and enticed me. The sweet perfume of a lady whooshing by me, the rich aroma of coffee in the morning, the musky and vaguely papery odour of the library... Each smell is distinct, yet reminiscent of something just beyond my grasp. ~ When I catch a whiff of a familiar scent, it's like greeting an old, nearly forgotten friend, for smells strike a bright image in my mind that, like a burst of light, does not last, leaving instead a vague impression of itself. ~
Smells add flavour and mood to any setting. ~ Roses for romance, freshly baked bread for homeliness, newly mowed lawn for summer. ~ Perhaps sniffing a particular scent can rush you back to a moment, a jolt into the past. It's certainly happened to me before, and I admit that I've kept scent-souvenirs more than once, though in the end, smells always fade, much to my dismay. ~
A scent is also a very personal belonging. ~ Each individual has his or her own distinct smell that sets him or her apart. More than once, I've fallen in love with a friend's smell. ~ It's just another facet of a person, yet it's distinctly different because it's so very unique and hard to describe, almost like trying to explain colour to someone who was born blind. ~ Maybe that's why people exchange personal belongings - to give a little bit of one's smell away, a token that is fingerprint-like in its particularity. ~
This ties into an interesting bit of knowledge I've stumbled across throughout my various readings. Basically, it boils down to this: humans are attracted to the opposite gender's smell based on compatibility. ~ Indeed, this means that one should thoroughly sniff out one's partner before making any rash decisions. I always knew I could trust my nose. ~
Smell is also an instinct. We naturally trust some smells that convey a sense of security while shying away from others that scream danger to our delicate noses. ~ Non-smokers are repulsed by the odour of smoke, for example, because it is harmful to their lungs. Smokers, on the other hand, crave this scent because it has become their drug. ~ So even the nose adapts. I love the human body's flexibility. ~
Personally, I am particularly sensitive to smells, which can either make me very happy or else induce mild migraines. Perhaps that is why I value olfaction so very much, though secretly, I like to think that it's because my large and rather unsightly nose must have some beneficial function to it. ~

Sight

Ah, sight. The sense that stands out the most. ~
Sight is the sense we use to detect light, brightness, and depth. With it, the world is thrown against us in all its glorious colour. ~
Eyes have often been described as windows into the soul. However, it is just as true to say that eyes are the windows we peek through to see into the souls of others. ~ Through these openings, we look to receive. ~ Yet compared to the eyes of a hawk, or those of an owl, our eyes are very pitiful indeed. ~
Another aspect to consider is how much trust we put into our vision. ~ To see is to believe, some say. But what of all the technological marvels our world is now conceiving? Can we really take for granted that everything our eyes see is real? ~ Furthermore, what of perception? How do we know that what our eyes capture is what is seen by everyone else as well? ~ Ever thought about how much verbal communication can hinder our true message? What we truly want to express might be an image. How can we convey that through simple words? ~
Light. A myriad of all the colours imaginable, all rolled into one bundle to produce pure white light. ~ How we see colour is another miracle. The colours that strike our eyes are actually those that are reflected off of an object. All other colours are absorbed into the object. ~ Take a red clip, for example. The clip absorbs white light, keeping every colour except for red, which it rejects. How ironic that the colour the object seems to dislike the most is what ends up qualifying it. ~ Then again, who's to say that the object isn't reflecting its favourite colour because of its selflessness, wanting to show the world the beauty of that one shade? ~
Black. ~ When something appears as black, it means that object has absorbed every single colour and is not reflecting back anything. ~ How selfish of that object, wanting to keep all of the colours of the rainbow to itself. ~ In the end, black remains a mature, mysterious shade because it is hiding its true colours. ~
So vision, in the end, is a trickster. Perhaps, we see what we want to see. Maybe our eyes shield us from the worst? Or is it our minds who are not accepting the images our brave little windows are shining at us? ~ Another mystery, best left unsolved. ~

Audition

Human beings have been blessed with five senses. I wish to address each sense in the following five posts. ~
Hearing. ~ Our ears detect vibrations that are then sent as impulses to our brain. ~ Just one marvel among so many others in the human body. ~ Yet hearing is so very vital to our perceptions of the world. ~

As a musician and an appreciator of all types of music, I know sound is vital to me. Music can convey my deepest emotions yet leave space for thought, being personal enough to touch while remaining anonymous enough to keep a veil of individuality. ~

When we think back to memories, we are assaulted by noise. Snatches of conversation, music, and the hustle-bustle of everyday life. ~ The city especially is a nest of sound. There never is true silence. And that soothes some of us. ~

Our internal voices. Everyone thinks; after all, I think, therefore I am. The voice that each of us uses to think is what distinguishes us from one another. ~ That mental consciousness that so often guides us, advises us, reprimands us. ~ It is also the voice we use to read. Our special, one-of-a-kind system that never rests. Even in sleep, we dream, and that voice presides over all. Our comforting blanket, the one voice we will always trust. ~

Our minds register sounds and can often be led astray. Hearing touches a deep part within us that sight alone could never reach. ~ Why else would we have invented cell phones, portable radios and later on iPods, and keep on enhancing our sound systems? ~ Music and sound lend personality to the world, letting us enjoy the purest harmony and the most sorrowful cries. ~

And remember, hearing is always last to go. ~

The Top

How easy it is to fall. ~ Climbing out of that valley a few weeks ago took a monstrous effort, both physically and mentally, yet running down, half jumping and half sprinting, was effortless as well as enjoyable. ~

So goes life. Climbing up to the top, being the best, staying on that mountain top, is so much harder than slipping down, reverting back to the habits you've tried so hard to break. ~ For some of us, life is just an eternal struggle to keep that post, to fight for a position up top, when really, the whole point of the climb was to enjoy the scenic, breathtaking view below. ~ And so, in our attempts at perfection, we lose track of what's really important. ~ How sad, us little humans, running around frantically in circles when what we actually need sits right underneath our upturned noses. ~

"The higher you climb, the harder you fall." ~ "Always aim for a higher branch. That way, when you hit a lower one, you'll have reached your target anyway." (I just sprouted those latter words, by the way. Not some famous quote, in case you were alarmed that you didn't recognize it.) ~ Two contradicting yet complementing ideas. How so, you ask? ~ Well, both are true. But don't be restrained by either. Only by aiming high can you reach uncharted lands, but always make sure that you are mentally prepared for any injuries unexpected falls may cause. ~ Fate is a fickle mistress, and to tempt her is fatal but necessary. ~ And remember, there won't always be a safety-net there to catch you, so sometimes, you have to set up your own beforehand. ~

Emotions

Goodbyes are the worst. I hate that empty feeling in the pit of my stomach right now. I know I've said some permanent goodbyes recently, but in my mind, there will always remain some inkling of hope that someday, I'll see at least a few of them again. ~
Back to humanity, then, to forget about the pain. ~ I've realized just how much us humans are controlled by our wavering, ever inconsistent emotions. Those feelings that take over our minds so rapidly, erasing all rational thinking. I've always been scared of that, and I guess that's what makes me such a cold person sometimes. ~ Anyways, the two ever-so-clichéd emotions I wish to analyze right now are love and hate. ~ Yes, I know, it's been said a million times before, but love and hate are what drive us humans. The fuel behind all our precariously-balanced planning. Ancient, innate stuff that's existed ever since human life first began. Written and worried and mused over by countless writers, musicians, ordinary people. ~
So what is love? I think anyone that has tried to find the roots and reasons of true love has failed. Love isn't something you can explain with the written word. It's so tangible yet so abstract, an oxymoron in itself, that only by experiencing it can you ever even begin to understand it. ~
And hate? Hate is even harder to see through. Hate burns just as brightly as love. In fact, I've always thought that the harder you love someone, the easier it will be to hate them through twists of fate. Because in the end, all that emotion has to go somewhere... and when pure water is contaminated with ugly black ink, it will eventually become totally polluted. ~ Our driving forces have to exist - they cannot ever completely disappear. We might hide from them, but deep down, they will always be there, lurking and waiting to pounce. ~

Love and hate. Peace and war. White and black. They're all interchangeable, all parts of a whole, and they mix more readily than water and ethanol. ~

Love is hate's charming twin sister. Yet she's fickle and can be just as cruel as her brother. ~

Hate is love's looming twin brother. He's dark and moody and has an appearance just as stunningly beautiful as his sister's. ~ There is no in-between. How can there be, when we humans are so complex ourselves? ~ I love you. I hate you. ~ Huh. What cosmic jokes our universe doth like playing on us. ~

Last Days

Incredible. I feel so completely drained, yet so completely drunk on euphoria. All this tinted with a bittersweet sadness makes for a very befuddled and precariously endangered Resa. ~ In this state, there's no telling what I'll say next, or decide to do. My head is spinning. ~ But enough of that. I believe the fate of the human race is much more interesting than any simple complications I could experience. ~
The rich and the poor. This eternal divide that has and will split the human race forever. ~ We all love power. There's no denying the rush of emotion that comes along with the realization that a decision is yours to make. ~ What to do with our resources? ~ What will win, our consciousness... or that inevitable human greed? ~
Everything is so temporary. Yet humans never change. Deep down, the same animalistic need for survival is still there. And it will never disappear. Instinct is the root of greed. ~
North Americans wish to ''help'' developing nations such as Africa. Or so we claim. But deep down, why do we feel the need to provide aid to those who are worse off than ourselves? Truly, it could not simply be our consciousness. ~ What, then? ~ The answer is evident, once pointed out. ~ We do it for personal reassurance. For a sense of righteousness that stems from the need for feeling great. ~ Essentially, we attempt to help others to satisfy our own desires. Every once in awhile, that nagging consciousness reminds us that we are evil. And so, to overcome the guilt, we aid others. Selflessness, we call it. Self-actualization is a better term for it. ~ Once again, I am swamped with a distaste for the human race. Me, a human myself. Oh, the irony. ~
Sinking into that sarcastic, dark mood again. Prolonged contact with forty-six other amazing individuals has installed in me a deep need for constant communication. Writing joyful, uplifting speeches right now is impossible. I apologize for raining on anyone's parade. Human fate is too broad a subject to be fully addressed in one post anyway. ~ Really, in three days, after a good long cry, I'll do better. Scout's honour, pinky promise. ~

Stars

Perhaps I'll talk about myself a bit today. ~
What an amazing two days. ~ The stars... Never would I have imagined the absolute beauty of a dark moonless night filled with brilliant bursts of light. ~ Often stars are described as cold and indifferent. But it was not so that night. They glowed warmly, shining down a peaceful light in lieu of a too-bright moon. ~ I looked for the Cassiopeia constellation, the crooked ''W,'' but was disappointed, being unable to spot it. ~ Even that did not break me out of my reverie, that dream-like state caused by awe-inspiring nature. ~ Around the campfire, in the darkness, it is simple to open up one's soul. A feeling of community and invisibility envelopes the group. So calming... ~
I have never been afraid of heights. ~ In fact, I love being high up. Looking down on the world always gives me a feeling of being in control, not of others but of myself, because I know what is happening all around me. I feel like I can have something to model myself on. ~ Heights take my breath away, but not in a bad sense. ~ Being at the top of the valley I'd just scaled up, looking down at the river four and a half kilometres below me, I was absolutely stunned at nature's incredibly intricate beauty. Seen from an aerial perspective, it all melded into one, a unifying whole. Then, glancing further down, I spotted a yellow school bus. ~ It ruined the effect and brought me back to civilization. Humans can be such a bore sometimes. ~
Later, I ran down full-speed. I've never pushed myself so hard. I loved it. It felt like I was running away, but I could ignore that tiny voice in my head mocking me while the adrenaline pulsed through me and my muscles burned. The wind cleansed me and the chirping birds cheered me up. ~ I hope to do this again soon. ~

Camp

Camp is an exhausting yet exhilarating experience. ~ Every minute of the day is planned, yet it's different from school. There's more of a feeling of freedom and preciousness, because camp only lasts for a month. I feel like I need to enjoy these few jam-packed days before they're snatched away from me. ~
It's amazing how quickly your perception of someone can change throughout prolonged interaction. There's no time to mull over things that happened or to analyze what people said to you during the day once you're alone in bed, because you've been bombarded with so many images and words that at the end of the day, sleep is the only sane option left. So you begin to formulate opinions on people very quickly, processing events and saving them in the back of the mind, registering another personality trait with a secret smile. ~ All these bits and pieces of information eventually combine to form the picture that pops up when you visualise that person. ~
At camp, you get to know so many people for real... what they're like not only at their best, but also at their worst. Sleep deprivation, a new environment, and challenging projects really bring out what people can usually keep hidden. ~
At camp, everyone gets to know what your bed hair looks like, when you do your laundry, what you're truly passionate about. ~ You make close friends, yet deep down you know that come the end the of camp, you'll have to part ways and break those strong new bonds that you've formed over such a short period of time. ~ Is that knowledge holding me back? Stupid fear. ~
It's cold, a temperature that's beginning to lull me to sleep. The content clacking of the other campers on their keyboards soothes me. Perhaps nap time is due. Signing off! ~

Laugh

Been such a while since I last posted... only a few days, yet a long time for me. ~ I′ve met so many wonderful new people, done so many cool things, yet I know that this is only the beginning of what′s in store for me. ~ It gets lonely sometimes, being alone even among friends, silent to joy, dull to brightness. ~ But, as usual, life goes on, I adapt, things get better. ~
Ups and downs. It′s cliché, but life really is a roller coaster of emotions. Simply enjoying the ups and picking yourself up after a down is the way to go. ~ Then again, no downs means no ups, because a high can only be judged in comparison to a low. Bitterness and sadness sprinkled with joy is what adds colour to our lives. ~
Lame jokes. Once a joke attains a certain level of lameness, it actually crosses over into the realm of grudgingly funny jokes. You can′t help laughing at the sheer nerdiness of the person who′s telling the joke, while secretly agreeing that sometimes, lameness makes up for humour. ~ Indeed, laughing at a lame joke is more of a way of acknowledging the other′s desperate attempt to break tension. It′s kind of impressive, in a way, to put yourself out there at the mercy of judgment of another, just to reach out an invitation of friendship. I admire all of you. ~ Go ahead, make a lame joke today. I know I′ve certainly heard my share of really pitiful ones today already, and secretly, on the inside... I did laugh. ~

Choice

It's hard to let go of a passion. ~ We so often find new likes, new amusing hobbies, new loves. But what's harder to detect is the slow slipping-away of old desires. ~

When you've played an instrument for seven years, three outcomes are likely. Either your passion for music has grown and swelled with time and experience, or it has dwindled with hours of practice and let-downs. Or you might be like me, somewhere right in between, still in love enough to want to caress those ivory keys, yet repulsed enough to dislike the sure long-term commitment that comes with all relationships. ~ What a position to be in. I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff, at the edge of a huge decision. To plunge forward is to take a risk, continuing along on this journey through eight notes and quarter rests. To stay unmoving is to develop a sense of safety, a sheltered relief and reprieve after all these years. ~

Choice. We all must make decisions like this throughout our lifetimes. Maybe that's how fortune-tellers first gained popularity - by providing guidance in the face of a tough choice. It's appealing sometimes to burden another with your own problems, to have someone else decide for you. ~ But. Having someone else making your decisions for you strips you of your independence. You lose the ability to judge for yourself, and eventually this leads to total pliancy, with you as malleable as gold in another's hands. ~ Therefore, make your own choices. They might not turn out for the best, but you'll at least learn from your mistakes and become all the wiser thanks to them. ~ Play with fire. Live your life yourself. ~

Summer Days

What a fun day today. Haven't walked this much or gotten this good of a dose of vitamin D since last summer. ~ Made new friends too, which is always enjoyable. ~
Simple pleasures in life are always the best. The cool feel of water on a hot day, the delicious smell of fresh grass after a rainstorm, the joy of making new memories... Summer truly is a fantastic time to bond. ~

Man, it's hard to write when I'm happy. Seems like a depressed, lonely state is best for spinning out deep thoughts. This lightness I feel is contradictory to my writing instinct and is causing the strangest type of writer's block. That cynical sarcasm does come in handy at times like this. ~ Ah well, there's always tomorrow, no? ~

Influence

How many times do we influence someone without even realising it? ~
That one friend you talk to occasionally, giving encouragement? What if he or she kept on going to school and living a healthy life only thanks to your words of advice and care? ~ That old man you recognize at the library after school every afternoon. What if he keeps smiling only because he sees your enthusiastic approach to life every day, each time reminded of his own youth? ~ That teacher of yours who is a harsh marker but strangely seems to favour you. What if the reason behind that was because your written words touch her heart? ~ Influence. We may not know it, but each of us has an impact on the world. None of us need worry over being unnoticed, because one of our simple acts of kindness can make someone else's day. ~ We all have a purpose, an objective we must keep on going for. Existence is never meaningless. ~ Life is worth living, and the reason to live is what each of us must search and live for. ~ Few of us find it. But the path is much more than the goal, after all. Enjoy life knowing that you made someone smile today. ~

Self-consciousness

First time Karaoking. My throat is absolutely hoarse from belting out all those songs. It was great fun though. ~
It seems levels of self-consciousness can be deceiving. We think we know ourselves and the ones closest to us completely... But you can never truly know a person until you have witnessed them in a life-threatening situation. ~ Sure, your best friend might be all bravado when it comes to being courageous, but have you really seen what they will do when really threatened? When forced to make life-or-death situations? ~ True, most of us lucky individuals never have to experience any such harrowing experience. But does that also imply that most of us never truly find out the depths of who we truly are, and what the people who mean the most to us are capable of? ~ A shame? Or a blessing? ~ It is likely we do not even want to know. Yet, curiosity pushes us to extremes, does it not? And we all know curiosity killed the cat, after all... ~ Not that I would ever be brave enough to try, to test myself and others. But I am always prepared should someone else want to test me. ~
A strange post today, admittedly. But it is getting late. Must be the after-effects of spending five hours in a closed room wherein reigns a lingering smell of smoke. Disgusting and mind-addling. ~ Good night, all. ~

Birthday

Today is the first day of a new year in my life. ~ I had my ears pierced. That strange, tingly, somewhat burning sensation marked a change. I'd made a decision that would affect me somewhat permanently, without much previous deliberation. A step forward for me. ~ What is it about our birthdays that is so special? After all, it's really only the day we were born. Wouldn't it be more appropriate to celebrate the mother who carried me for nine months on this summer's solstice, this first day of summer, instead of me? ~ But we humans are so very self-centered sometimes, aren't we? I'm no exception. ~ Every birthday, I feel like something different, out of the ordinary, exceptional, must happen to me. Some major change. Perhaps that's why I finally found the courage to have holes put through me today. ~ And I feel all the better for it. ~
One more rant for today. ~ Facebook. Ah, FB. ~ Previous birthdays passed somewhat unnoticed. Not anymore. This social networking device displays all your information to the world, proclaiming it out loud while you yourself remain silent. Ha. ~ Thanks, FB. All those birthday wishes warmed my heart that much more today. ~
Finally, as this summer's day draws to an end, I'd like to write a final note. A thank you - to Mama and to Papa, who gave me the life I have now. Merci. ~

Dimples

Dimples. ~ They say a dimple is where one was once kissed by an angel, right before birth. ~ The angel's lips leave a small imprint, a tiny valley on the baby's silk-smooth skin, a mark. A blessing on this tiny creature about to enter the world. ~ Why do beautiful baby children, sweet and innocent, become so terrible? So horrid, so filled with corruption, their souls so blackened? What breaks them? ~ I see mothers pushing strollers onto the bus everyday. The tiny bundle inside sticks a hand out, waving stubby little fingers in the air. I smile, yet I wonder. ~ What will this child become? ~
Dimples. Ones blessed by an angel. ~ Yet so many scorn this small giving of love. So many turn to other sources of comfort, find new, twisted things of love. ~ This world is a cruel one. ~ I have only one dimple, called up by my smile, a mark adorning my left cheek. ~ One kiss, one blessing, one life. I won't ruin it. I'll not be forsworn. ~

Dandelions

Ah, summer. Finally, days of cold are over! ~ But you know, summer isn't always all it's cut out to be. The bugs come out, and once again the Evil Dandelion Army spreads its minions to conquer every available square inch of dirt. I hear my dad going off to War against them now, carrying weapons of weed-killing and pulling on his old and sweaty Canada cap with determination. And so begins another cycle. I wish you luck, sire! ~ Yet dandelions... why do we call them weeds? Impostors in our gardens, villains on our lawns, pesky disturbers of flower-y peace. Really, they're only doing what all of us are trying to do - get on with their lives and keep their generation going. They're just better at it than we are. Might we just be the tiniest bit jealous, impressed? Awed by their knack for perseverance, for survival? ~ Dandelions were originally brought over from Europe as a source of food, their leaves to be used in scrumptious salads. But without their natural predators, they began to run amok... And everything went downhill from there. Today, here in North America, they're the strongest weed, king of them all. ~ I step outside and pluck a dandelion, already in that state where a simple breeze will send parachuting seeds out into the sky. I take a breath and blow. The sight mesmerises me. They're so resilient. I wish I had the gift nature lent her little "weeds." ~ The last seed disappears from my sight. Good luck, young tadpole. I hope you make your corner of the world brighter with your burst of sunshine. ~