This is my story

Words

2011-05-18T22:51:00.000-07:00

Words by themselves are powerless and weak, only given the power we ration out. But even then that's a misconception isn't it? After all without words, where would be? What you read before you would cease to exist, and the thoughts you let swirl around in your mind so easily would disappear alongside knowledge and history, love and pain, hate and pleasure, because after all, these are just words. We can say that the dropping of hearts, and the falling of tears are sadness, that the skipping of beats and my pounding feet as I try to find you are signs of love, but in the end these thoughts would cease to be without words. But words themselves are tricky things to master. In fact, maybe the notion on mastery when it comes to words is silly in itself. We so freely give meaning to sounds and intonation, but these change from person to person, continent to continent, one words joy, can be a response in sorrow, and like wise, the moment we give birth to words, its as if we chose to play withthe minds of every single human on earth at the same time. I dream in music, and breath in rhythm, dance in my mind, but all of these become known to you as I string these simple words together. Isn't it amazing? The power of thoughts, the power of speech, the strength of music, and the legitimacy of story are all made of a seemingly high chance of sound association.

Madness. The minute we agreed upon the meaning behind the word madness became the instance in which it would be exploited to describe the power and depth of the human soul. People could go their whole life, never taking the time to understand the importance of madness in their daily lives, but that doesn't mean it exists. But to tell someone of it, would risk the chance of misunderstandings. After all, this is the great equalizer of language. We as humans don't have the key to all languages, just like we don't have the keys to all the questions we've ever asked. (To Be Cont.)

2011-05-18T00:11:00.001-07:00

I figure since I haven't posted in forever, that most of the people who read this in the past don't remember that I have a blog. In truth, I kinda forgot I had one too. But I still think of this as my personal haven, a place I can find solace. So if anyone should stumble across this in the future, I'll keep writing. Here we go, Madness (In the works)

When you think about it, the dreams in which we create for ourselves (at least the ones that are powerful, that drive us) are madness. One simply cannot "Help all the people in the world" or "Become the richest", without falling to madness... Madness is what drives dreams, and what dreams are made of. But madness is also what we fall to when our own madness cannot measure up to the madness of our dreams. Lust, greed, sloth, gluttony, pride, wrath, envy. These are what we call the Seven Sins, the seven darkness's of the human soul, and the seven ways, in which we fall to madness...

Our madness, that which we draw our resolve from, becomes absolute. We shall use the meaning behind our actions as fuel for the madness we so shout to the world. This too is the way in which we fall into madness. The depth of our souls gives us the berth to become resolute, but tread carefully, for when paving the map of your soul, without grounds to explore, one may end up lost, subject to the madness hidden within yourself. But grounding yourself is easier said than done, and having the grounds to gain power come to very few people. Thus, those who foolishly seek power, fall to the madness in their soul. This madness however, can be overcome by the twisting of ones soul, the realization that the reason for the madness can either serve as a deterrent, a message again madness, which becomes salvation that will set you on the path of normalcy. The second, is that the madness becomes your armament, your sword that cuts away the lies and the distractions of madness not like your own. In order for this to work however, one must be willing to accept that madness can be power, madness cannot be tainted, that life itself is madness. So just what is madness.?

I dream of things that create the world around me. Fate and Destiny, one in the same mother, writing forever, the wills of humans and creatures alike, never, without exception, sparing one of a future without death. So why does one continue to strive towards dreams and goals unknown to themselves. Is it because Fate or Destiny is urging them on with words unspoken? And what of reason, after all, we are creatures of reason, how much of our reason is faith in our own power, rather than the logic of Destiny? Just what pushes us so, written instinct, or demons at our heels? This is simply, madness. By giving us dreams, instinct, Fate and Destiny have given us the perfect script, the perfect formula to instill monotony amongst this world. So how do we break this?

My appologies for the long hiatus

2010-02-07T02:42:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry for the long hiatus I gave myself. Last semester was absolutely terrible for me, and I cut writing out to compensate for the rising need to complete homework. I will start writing again this semester due to the lack of English related class in my schedule (compensation for a lack of love :]) and will be continuing the story I neglected in the last post. Without further delay, I present to you, The first day back at school.

“Damn that girl, does she think school starts when she’s good and ready for it?” Kaminari Shouichi grumbled as he marched up the stairs.

He opened the door with soft surprise, as he looked at his daughter dressed for school, gazing out the window. He sighed as he cleared his throat, alerting his daughter to his presence.

“Hotori, isn’t it time for school yet? You’ll be late if you don’t leave soon” My father said with a smile.

“I know, I’ll leave soon, I’m just watching the clouds…” I muttered

He walked up to me, smiling, as he stretched out his hands and straightened the bow of my uniform.

“You’re just like your mother sometimes… There were times when even her mind was secluded to me. But looking at you now, I’m proud. You’re on your way to school, you’re moving through life.” He whispered, giving me a short hug before leaving the room.

`I know father… I’m trying to live now, but it’s so empty, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore’ I think to myself, as I gather my keys, my bag and my riding gear.

The roar of the engine wakes me from my slumber. It’s always been a comfort to hear it, a strong and powerful voice. With my body suit on, I crack the zipper a bit, and I slip the helmet over my hair. It’s gotten long as of late, and my father seems to like it, so it doesn’t bother me. I rev the engine, hearing the sound blast through the garage door. I lose myself in thought as the door opens, and the morning sun peaks through the bottom. I speed off, the feeling of the sudden jolt as I release the brakes and skid out to the main street causing my heart to speed up. Streets blur, and people disappear as I rush through lights, by cars, through the town that’s confined me. Before I knew it, I found myself at Tohka’s front gates, the “Grandiose” senior high school that so many aspire to gain entrance. I don’t quite know myself, just how I got in, but I’m here and that’s all that matters to my father.

“All rise! Salute the teacher!”

“Sensei. Ohayo Gozaimasu!”

“Class, you may be seated”

The teacher straightens his tie, clearing his throat before continuing on.

“Class, I just want to congratulate you on your acceptance into to Tohka. Our staff expects great things from all of you. After all, our school would not be considered one of the best in the country if our students didn’t work equally as hard as the teachers here. Please continue looking to the future, and working hard to obtain your dreams!” The teacher smiles before pulling out his lesson plans for the day.

Most of the teacher’s speech, however, flew right over my head. My gaze was locked out on the vast front gates that housed my precious bike. The windows in the classroom were slightly ajar, allowing the soft, warm breeze to compliment the sun blazing in the sky. I sighed before turning to the board, trying to catch up to the current lesson plan.

`Today would have been a perfect day for a ride’ I thought to myself, as I mindlessly copied the notes word for word. I glance around for second, taking in the faces of these people I’m supposed to call my “peers”.

`Ordinary people as far as the eye can see… and it’s not even that far, trapped in this bird cage…’ I mentally sigh, turning back to the sky just beyond the glass bars.

I lose track of time, and before I know it, I hear the bell ringing in the distance. As I close my notebooks and set everything back into my bag, I feel a pair of eyes on me. I turn around, looking from person to person, only to have the feeling disappear completely. I shake it off, `I must be hungry or something’.

Whoever said “Birds of a feather, flock together” was obviously a psycho. This was one of the thoughts that pervaded my mind as I made my way to the roof for a quiet lunch. Upon opening the door, I was greeted by the sight of a boy’s back, sitting towards the edge of the building, looking over the school as a whole. In mid bite, he decided to turn his head and address the disturbance. His eyes opened wide, and the sandwich hanging from his mouth decided to drop onto his lap.

`Cute…’ I snorted.

“Eh, Hiya? Name’s Shinji, Yamamoto Shinji, what’s yours?” He grinned, picking his lunch up off of his lap.

“Kaminari, Kaminari Hotori” I stated, taking a seat away from “Shinji” along the opposite wall.

As far as first impressions go, the both of us could have done better. As I sat against the wall, I could hear him cursing as he desperately tried to prevent the condiments from his sandwich from staining his uniform. I drift out to the clouds as I snacked on my lunch. The food never really interested me, but I ate to stay awake. I peeked over the side of the building at the many students who ate near the courtyard. I could hear them as they passed the front gates looking at the motorbike that was parked out in front. I giggled as I found myself asking if anyone had ever seen a motorcycle before.

“Well how many students do you expect know how to drive a car, much less ride a motorcycle? We’re barley of age you know? Is that yours?” I jumped as I heard a voice behind me. Glaring hard, I turned to see a smiling Shinji, looking out at the bike as well.

“Well, they shouldn’t act like country bumpkins then, it’ll bring “shame” on our school” I muttered, turning back to gazing longingly at my bike.

“Haha, if I wasn’t any smarter, I would’ve actually believed that you bought into Sensei’s speech. You certainly looked like you were gonna cry, but I think out of boredom rather than sentimentality.” He grinned.

“Look, you don’t know a thing about me. Yeah, I was bored as hell, doesn’t mean I don’t want to do well in school. The only thing outta life I want, I can’t have.” I growled, never turning away from the courtyard.

“Whoa, I’m sorry if I offended you. Didn’t mean any harm out of it. After all, the “girl who rode like the wind” is the talk of the school right now. She’s enrolled in a certain 2-B classroom meaning she’s pretty damn smart, and was rumored to be stunningly beautiful. I figured I would…” He began.

“Try to pick her up? Nice try, but I don’t know who you’re talking about, nor do I respond well to any attempts at “picking up”.” I drawled out, rolling my eyes. I heard him shuffle to the spot next to me.

“Well, I don’t “pick up” girls. I merely talk to ones who are interesting. After all, how can I forget what I saw this morning? I saw you pulling off that suit you keep tucked in your bag over there, and watched you trot off to class.” He said, leaning his chin against the edge of the building.

“Well it’s not like it’s a secret you know…” I began.

The bell suddenly chimed, signaling the end of lunch. I grabbed my things, and headed for the door, only to see Shinji as he held it open. Bowing my thanks as an obligation, I headed down the stairs as fast as I could to avoid more conversation with him. I knew in the back of my mind he meant well, but I shook that from my mind as I headed back to the classroom. As I dumped my things next to my seat, I looked around, and knew why I had felt eyes on me this morning. “Shinji” was a fellow classmate who had his seat directly behind me. He grinned as he began pulling out his books and writing utensils.

“I hope you had a good lunch class, let’s get back to where we left off…” Sensei began as I drifted back into my rhythm.

I found out by the end of the day, many of the students were actually quite dedicated to their studies. When I could spare it, I glanced around the classroom and found all of them, staring intensely at the board, feverishly writing down formulas and historical dates. I felt a little guilt in my stomach knowing I wasn’t trying half as hard as some of these students, so I got back to focusing on the subject at hand.

`Just like my entrance exams’ I told myself, as I stopped the filter that drowned out the sound of the teacher’s voice.

The day ended with a bow, as the teacher exited the classroom. I felt the sun setting and the air beginning to cool. Figuring I should make some sense of the notes I mindlessly took earlier, I made my way to the library.

`If only I knew where the library was’ I sighed, wandering to the general area of a large building. I paused to ask a couple of girls, who confirmed with a, “Near the martial arts hall”, I slowly made my way over to the library.

`Well at least father would be happy to know I’m studying rather than “gallivanting” on my bike all day’ I sighed. My concentration was broken as the sound of pounding feet, and yells reached my ears. I spied the entrance to the “martial arts hall” and peeked inside. I watched as fifteen or so students yelled out the names of katas as they performed them in synch for the instructor. I could feel my eyebrow peek up as I spied a familiar face.

`So Shinji does Karate does he? Maybe he’s more durable than I thought’ I found myself glancing him down, finally taking in his features and his stature. Short spiky hair and a stern concentrated face occupied my mind. His wiry frame flew across the floor in a frenzy, barely finishing a series of complicated blocks and parries with a smooth round house. His head bowed as he let out a loud yell to signal the end of his movement, his hand reached up to scratch the back of his head as the man who I assumed to be the “Sensei” came over to give him comments and encouragement. I snickered, making my way to the library as the memories of the last time I was in a Dojo, under the study of a master. I felt a slow fire course through my veins as I recalled memories of my brother taking me to see our Master. We both studied, and laughed together as we got hit by our Master for failing or not paying enough attention. Our Master was also the first person to talk to my father and I after my brother’s passing. It was his first and last hug that he gave me, before he, for the next few years, proceeded to kick me back to normal.

`And those kicks hurt too…’ I found myself sharing a sad smile. My Master had given me a final lesson before I obtained mastery.

“Hotori, I know you’re still carrying the weight of your brother’s death on your shoulders. I am as well, but whether it’s on our journey, or in a fight, that weight can be as effective in our defeat as a lack of discipline, or focus. I won’t tell you to forget about him, but I want you to know that the longer your eyes, your soul stays dead, the more your brother is crying out for you. He wouldn’t want you t o remember his absence, but remember his attendance and his dedication to your family. Please take care of yourself when you leave this Dojo. You will always be welcome, for you and your brother are family, sons and daughters to this place”

I settled down at a table basking in what little sunlight was left. I brought out my books, and found myself slowly lost in the sea of information until the sound of the librarian calling out the closing of the school. I was ushered out into the front courtyard, where I quickly located my bike. Night came quickly, and I found myself wondering if Father was worrying over my absence. I quickly adorned my suit, remembered to crack the zipper just a little bit before kick starting the engine, and revving it to life. I found myself grinning, letting the roar encompass me. Flicking on the front lights, I made my way back home.

As expected, Father was waiting on the porch, tapping his foot, with a stern look on his face.

“Where were you?! You neither called, nor answered my calls, and its dinner time!” He growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Wait, you called me?” I asked, checking my phone. Sure enough, I found several missed calls littering various times from the end of school to now. I felt my cheeks heat up, never remembering feeling the phone from my bag signal his call. His arms were still crossed, still expecting and answer.

“Sorry Father, I wasn’t riding anywhere. I was studying in the library until it closed, I didn’t know you had called. I never felt the phone go off in my bag. Sorry…” I said bowing my head. Father was the last one who needed more stress, I felt ashamed.

“Were you really…?” His face creased out of a frown. Shock was evident in his expression.

“That’s mean Father. I made it into Tohka, so that means I have to give it one hundred percent right?” I sighed, a little disappointed at his surprise.
Father’s brow snapped back together, and his lips curved up into a grin.

“Given your previous track record, I believe some of my surprise was warranted.” He chuckled as I feigned hurt. He put his arm around my shoulders and we both walked to the inviting smell of a home cooked meal.

Seated across from Father, we ate as we shared our experiences from the day. I wouldn’t say our relationship was bad or awkward. But I know we both wish we could laugh and talk as a family once again. He recited a story of his student coming down to the front of his lecture hall to answer a question, only to miss the last step off of the stairs and end up with his butt in the air. I giggled and in turn told him about Shinji.

“Sounds like an interesting boy, if he can put up with that racket that your brother’s bike makes.” He grinned.

“Father, brother’s bike doesn’t make “racket”, its music to some people, like a heartbeat.” I said knowingly.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I guess some people must like hearing nails on a chalk board too.” He laughed, his laughter echoing in the house.

“Hmph, you’re insatiable Father.” I fake pouted, turning away slightly.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right, this Shinji is a martial artist you said? Do you still remember what you learned from your Master?” He asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh, I suppose so… He looked concentrated and focused, but he also had a smile on his face, like he was enjoying it.” I said thoughtfully, my spoon pausing in front of my mouth.

“That’s interesting, well, in any case, it sounds like you’re doing ok in school.” He said, turning away from the table to begin washing the dishes.

“Thank you for the meal Father” I said, drifting upstairs after depositing my plate into the sink.
“No problem, be sure to take a bath before you go to bed.” He said, switching on the television placed next to the sink, a very young news anchor foretelling the week’s weather.

I was as much of a nighttime person as I was a morning person, which it so happens to be, that I hate both. It always starts the same, staring off into the black shadows that dance across my ceiling. Sleep never comes willingly, and I feel like I’ll always be dragged to and from that horrid world for the rest of my days.

`You’re lying! He can’t be dead! BROTHER CAN’T BE DEAD’

`Stop this! HOTORI, WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?’

`Hotori, he wouldn’t want you to remember his absence…’

“Stop it…”

`Brother… Why’d you leave…? Was it my fault?”

`It’s hard for me too… We’re the only ones left Hotori…’

“Stop it”

It’s raining, and the hospital buzzes around me, annoying chatter that no child could comprehend

`Is he alright?! Will my boy make it?!’

`I’m sorry sir… When we brought him after the accident, he was already diagnosed as JCS 2, and since then his situation has only deteriorated…”

“STOP IT!!”

I sat up with a jolt, rasping as my chest rose frantically.
No matter what happened, no matter how much I tried to forget, every night without fail, these nightmares would plague me into the wee hours of the morning. I still can’t shake the memories of sitting in that hospital, unable to understand anything about what had happened. I now knew that when they had brought my brother in, he had already been pronounced “lost”. I wiped the cold sweat from my face as I felt my pulse go back to normal.

`Will I always have to put up nights like these? Haunted by these thoughts, these memories…’ I sighed as I drew the blanket closer to my chest. I cast one more look to the outside to the distant hills covered by a blanket of stars, before slowly, falling back to sleep.

Prologue

2009-08-20T01:16:00.000-07:00

So, this hit me just a couple of hours ago, as I was writing and editing chapters for my newest story. "How in the heck am I going to post this without taking up like 3 pages on my site @.@" Sooo, yeah... I'll post in chunks rather than chapters, since it'll be a little too much to read if I do chappys. Sooo without further delay, I present to you, the prologue...

Stretching out, with a large yawn, I gaze out across the large fields of empty grasslands. Farm lands and roads leading to nowhere occupy the mind as I roll my head around on the hill. For as long as I could remember, these fields have been my home, my haven. The tears I lost on the day of the accident, found their way into this vast land of green comfort. I fled that day when I heard the news, my dear, dear brother, losing his life to a driver who ran him over in a crossing. I wasn’t the only one who lost someone that day, but that was hardly the sentiment I felt as I grabbed my bike and flew from our empty home. I peddled as fast as I could, my chest heaving as I found these hills in front of me now. Not quite as majestic as they were the night I ran, with stars stretching across the sea of dark grass, but I spend my time here in hopes that the pain will blow away with the wind that loves to play across the fields. It’s been a while, brother, I’ve grown, and yet sometimes I feel as if time has stopped completely for me. Time was stolen from us, just like mother was, and I’m entirely lost without either of you. Father tries to keep everything together, but I just can’t seem to live the life he wants for me. He sees a bit of you and mother in me, and his hopes for me are as mixed as his vision. I yawn once more as I get up to return home, the wind cooling me as I watch the clouds roll in. I kick the stand up and smile as I hear the engine roar to life. Did I forget to mention? I stole your bike, brother; I traded the manual, for your wheels. Father doesn’t quite approve, being a girl and all, but as long as I go to school, he doesn’t mind too much. I’ve fallen in love with it, the feeling of the wind hitting my chest, the smell of my favorite hills as I rush up and down the roads. I’m trying to fall in love with all there is to love, now that you and mother are gone, and it’s hard to continue the way I’m going. But I think as long as I have your bike, I’ll live.

Neglect? I think not!

2009-06-10T13:32:00.000-07:00

It seems like I've been neglecting the updating of my blog, but I'm desperately trying to find inspiration for my new novel I'm going to attempt to write. So I guess I'll leave here with poem, that isn't so good I might add, and I hope to be finished soon with the first chapter of my new story!

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I now return to the blissful slumber
The wonderfully beautiful lady who slowly makes her rounds around the world
Dancing high into the sky, waltzing the music of time and fate
I drift higher and higher, grasping the cool, soft hands of the night
Forever caught in the midst of the twilight hour that creeps around the world
Silencing humans and creatures alike, who fall into the arms of love
Like always, her dress made of glittering folds mimic the violet waters that rage all night
Soon I will tire of dancing, returning to the world that I know
And I will rest in the day, and return to the one who gracefully escapes the glaring of the morning sun

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Rather than put another update, I figured I'd put my raw, unrevised feelings down for you to comment on. I really wanted to convey the depth of emotions I feel when I come into contact, not only from the one I love, but anyone I meet. There's a depth and abyss of feelings we as human seem to miss when we meet someone, or get to know them, the addition of everyday that we've ever been in existence is what makes up who we are at that second, and with each and every passing second, we're growing and maturing from the experiences and the emotions we feel; we're never who we were a moment ago, we're the changing product of our birth to the current moment. Hard to grasp but I hope you'll read this, and ponder on ways to make that abyss more understandable to other readers.

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What I wouldn't give
To twist fate
Become close, fall in love
With someone who's overflowing passion reigns over me
Sleepless nights with a woman who paces the room, dreaming, deviating, just how to obtain her goals
As I pace, sleepless, Distraught
Burdened by the weight of my dreams
I'd find comfort in her strength
Her voice giving me the warmth I need in the darkest of hours, the coldest of nights
Somewhere, A woman is singing loud, pouring her heart out, dreaming big, alone and afraid, running to where life takes her
I'd like to think that fate put me close, brought me here, sharing long nights awake, kept bringing us close, even when I thought we should be apart
Now I'm singing loud, obediently waiting, dreaming big, falling in love with everything there is to love
I can feel you close, the weight of each day that I've come to know you, understand you, I can feel it on my chest, in my heart, on my shoulders...
Through your actions, through your voice, I can feel the building of our story, your story, the compilation of our short, yet tremendously long lives we've lived till now
I'm warmed by the strength you've acquired, walking alone, braving the world, meeting people, growing by each daily experience, and the lives you've touched, those who've come and gone, and the one's you're unwilling to let go of
Your story is ever growing, and I'm always learning, I can feel the emotion, the anticipation, trepidation, fascination, anything there is to feel in the depth of a human soul
I'm drowning in these feelings, flooded by this love, suffocated by this passion
This passion built upon the passing of days, the arrival of friends, disappearance of stability, days and nights spent lost and confused, And years of unyielding, never ending love and life
The countless seconds, minutes, hours and days that make up our life, will build, break, disappear, become alive, become forgotten, remind us both of times past by, times yet to come
Our lives, built upon this simple passing, this infinite, yet limited source of movement will define who we are, what we loved, who we loved, our treasures and our stories
I'd like to think that fate gave us a chance, brought us together
I know I gave up a long time ago, I was content with "reading" rather than "experiencing", holding myself back, afraid to chase anything that moved, afraid to get hurt by my own hearts willingness to love and trust
But fate drew us together, let me fall once again into the limitless ocean of emotion, turmoil, passion that is, who you are
You're singing loud, and I'm singing too, the script given to us by fate, ever conflicting, triumphant and somewhat similar, painting the picture of our lives as we carry our heads high through the hard times, and the good weather
I've bought into fate's plan, that whatever is in store for us, must be something grand, something that will add to the long years we've been alive, I don't believe I can escape, I don't think I ever wanted to
I fell in love with the voice of strength, I fell for the insecurity, immaturity, the understanding, faintly commanding, the dreamer, schemer, the mask and the woman wearing it

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As always, happy reading!

All that is precious, can be held in a bell

2009-04-27T13:28:00.000-07:00

As promised, here is my short story I've been working on. Mind you, if you're used to my normal style of short story, this one is longer then those.

All that is precious can be held in a bell
The young man couldn’t believe the stranger when he had made him an offer on a night at his lowest. A chance to leave, leave without anyone important remembering anything important about you. The young man felt he had no one like that anyways, but gave the old man consent to do as he wished. A list was handed to the old man before he left the window ceil, gleefully laughing into the darkest night. The young man packed some things into a bag, and prepared to leave in the morning before the sun had risen, he didn’t want his mother and father to freak out over a stranger in their house, if they did in fact lose their memory of him. He planned his trip accordingly, marking places he would travel, things he wanted to see all in a notebook he stashed in the bag. Upon the hour of the young man’s leaving, the old man returned to the window ceil, with seven jingling bells in his hand.
“With this, you can leave without any regrets, no one on your list will know who you are, or that you’ve existed at all. You’re free to leave” The old man said cheerfully as he handed me the bells. I could feel the warmth in the small metal, like a living beating heart.
“These are the holders of the memories of your family, your friends, and the girl you love. They will return if they hold them respectively, and disappear forever if they’re lost. You can turn back, or press on forwards, it’s your choice.” The old man smiled as he suddenly disappeared from the ceil. The young man slowly trekked down the steps of the quiet house, being careful not to wake the residents. He placed the bells in his old cabinet, all lined in a row, with a note to each person, in case they were to find them. The young man didn’t want the bells to become lost, or destroyed, but hopefully left un-found in room that no longer belonged to him. The young man let himself out the back and stepped into the cold air of the night and began to walk down the street towards the direction of the airport.

Three weeks later, much of the family and friends had not changed. They had some mysterious and strange questions pertaining to a young man they didn’t know, but other than that, they just continued on as if nothing happened. They often passed by a room they knew to be unoccupied, but felt as if they shouldn’t open the door to. They sat and had dinner every night, wondering if something felt off, but quickly chocked it up to a lack of dessert. The young man’s presence and memories went forgotten as they continued the first month since his absence.

On the same token, the young man’s friends went about their daily lives, unaware of his absence. Their heads always turned as they laughed at jokes they didn’t know the origin of, or when talked of subjects they hadn’t known they were taught. They laughed openly into the preceding months as if nothing had ever gone missing.

The girl whom the young man had fallen in love with hadn’t changed much either. She hadn’t really loved him in the first place. She often looked distant, as if pondering about the empty spot on the field as she turned back to have a Frisbee fly over her head. She kept expecting to see something or someone lying in the open sun, resting before he jumped back into the game. She figured after a while, that it must be her imagination, and she resumed her focus as she swatted the point shot away.

The young man smiled as he found himself in an apartment in the country of Japan. His job was steady, he had a place to live, and he was close to the country side where he would often take walks, soaking in the colors and the long hills that flowed like the ocean. The young man found himself to be happy, he carried the burden of the memories of what he had left behind, but he found his way to something that could make him smile. He wondered if anyone had found the bells in the cabinet back at home, but quickly shook away the thoughts as he sat down to eat dinner before retiring to bed.

Two years passed by like this, life flowing in the usual manner, and many of the questions that had confused the mother and father and the sister had been forgotten. The mother and father had grown slightly older, and the sister had graduated, now starting the first years of college. She was packing her bags to move into the dorms when she realized she couldn’t find something. She tore up most of the house looking for her plushy she wanted to bring with her. Walking up the stairs, she stopped in front of the unoccupied room, and stared at the white door. She felt as if she shouldn’t go in, but as she cracked open the handle, the door popped open. She entered the room a saw the dust gathering on everything in the room. Her eyes skimmed over the bed and the dressers, the T.V and the mini-fridge, pausing just long enough to ask herself who the owner was. She searched high and low for her missing plushy before pausing in front of a cabinet. She pried it open and peeked inside. Finding it bare except for seven bells and seven pieces of paper, her eyes quickly darted to the one labeled with her name. It stated to touch her bell before continuing to read this page. Her hand slowly reached out to the metallic object, before lightly touching it with her fingertips. Suddenly, she felt electrified, her head suddenly burned with the images of a young man with a sad smile, a young man that had accompanied her from the beginning of her life, to the recent years of her high school career, and then disappeared. She gripped her head as she picked herself off of the floor, grabbing the letter and continuing to read her brother’s last message before he left.

Dear sister,
I’m counting on the fact that you won’t find this, but if you do, touch the bell I’ve left in front of this note. If the old man was correct, then you should have the memories you’ve forgotten, memories you didn’t need. To be honest, I really wanted to see you grown up into a young bustling college student, and congratulate you as you carried your diploma. But I now realize that I’ve been quite the hindrance to the family and to you. I wish that these bells could have remained forgotten, but if you’re now burdened by the memory of me, then at least know that I’m not there to plague you further. Live a happy life, be prosperous. This is your chance in life to obtain happiness, so don’t stop running towards your goal! I know you can do it.

-Best wishes

She sank to her knees as her memories flashed in her mind, up until the very last question she received, inquiring to the status of her brother. Her eyes overflowed as she curled up on the floor, overwhelmed by her forgotten brother.

The mother and father found the sister soon after she regained her memories. She refused to go to the college she had planned to travel to earlier, and settled for a college that was closer to home. She handed the letters and the bells to her mother and father, and soon they understood why. Memories of their forgotten son, memories that made every object in their house make sense. All of the books, the games, the clothes that had no origin, suddenly told their story to them. The empty seat at dinner suddenly couldn’t be filled with dessert, and they sat in silence in the young man’s room, looking out his window at the sky.

Upon the finding of the bells, they compared letters and found out that only the “correct owners” could activate the memories stored in them. Each letter was handed to the young man’s friends soon after finding their location. They had long since split up, colleges driving them to far lengths across the state. Each person upon touching the bell regained their memories of the young man, before realizing how much time had passed by since his leaving. It had been almost three years since he had left, leaving a gap in their memories wider than any distance that had separated them. They set about in a frenzy, tears steaming along their paths as they rushed to find any clues as to his whereabouts.

Word eventually got to the young man’s love, whom was also a friend of his sister. The sister was torn as to what she should do. Even she didn’t know the woman’s feelings for her brother. The woman hadn’t fallen in love with anyone in the past 3 years, for reasons even she didn’t understand herself. She was often found lying out in an open field, staring at an open skyline. She couldn’t quite place it, but she felt as if something was still missing. The sister walked up to the woman and handed her the note, but withheld the bell before asking her a question.
“Do you love anyone?” She murmured, clutching the bell to her chest, savoring the soft click it made.
“If you mean right now, then no, I can’t speak about the past, because I just can’t remember” She says out right, thinking back to the strange feeling.
The sister hands her the bell, her face hidden behind her bangs. The woman took it in her palm, and soon followed the images and the memories. She gazed back at the now empty field she was on, and recalled the games they used to play. She became painfully aware of the memories of the games that had passed without him trotting on the field. She had to admit, that she hadn’t “loved” him at the time of his leaving, but rather felt he would always be there. Suddenly, the woman glanced at the spot she had inhabited on the field, tracing his favorite spot, which surprisingly enough, had become hers as well.

A few more years pass, and the young man finds himself back in his home town, gazing at the places he had left behind. Shops had changed, or stayed the same and the buildings that he had left unfinished, now stood tall and proud amongst the landscape. He sat down in a familiar mall, with a soda in hand, and gazed at people passing by. He spied many people from his school days, and he smiled as they toted small children behind them. He places his cap on before continuing to his journey. Upon reaching the parking lot, he catches a familiar scent, as he walks by a woman his age. His eyes water at his remembrance of his first love, and he quickly adjusts his ball cap to hide his tears. He glances back as he continues to walk, with his eyes in shock. It was the one he had left behind, the one without memories of him. Figuring she was still without, he turned and continued his walk towards his car.

The woman found her way to the mall. Since she had recovered her memories, she had spent the last few years waiting for his return. The information his friends found showed his family and anyone else, that he had made several plane ticket purchases in his absence. He had traveled the world, from Europe to Australia, and settled in Japan, before dropping off of their map for 3 years. But yesterday, they received an update, stating that he had purchased a ticket headed home. They devised to have everyone split up to places that he would likely be or visit. The woman walked around the mall for a few hours, remembering trips to it with him in tow. She couldn’t believe that he would just up and visit home like that. She remembered his letter to her, and the time she spent reading it, over and over till the sun disappeared. She unfolded it from her the inside of her purse, and gazed at the lines on the page that had been engraved in her mind.

To you, whom I hold the dearest,
I know you won’t be reading this, just like I know you don’t share my feelings. I wanted so badly for you to see me for me, to love me. But I don’t think fate had it written out for us to live happily ever after. I couldn’t make you smile, or give you a laugh, or give you anything worthwhile. You probably have met someone worth something to you; someone you can love freely, for thinking of you happy is the only way I could leave. I truly hope that you’ve finally become who you want to be, with who you want to be with. Your happiness is my own, I don’t need anything else. I just wanted to thank you for the memories, for all of the smiles, I know you don’t remember them, but I hold them close to my heart, and they keep me alive during these grey, grey days. I pray for your eternal happiness.

-Good bye

Her eyes watered like always, before folding up the note and placing it back in its proper place. She had cursed him at first for leaving such a selfish note, not knowing whether to cry because she had forgotten him, or because he had done all of this because of her. But she understood why he had stood complacent at the time she had seen him last. He had confessed once before, but she turned him down. She had a funny feeling, being confessed to by a guy, and had settled it to “friends”. She hadn’t realized that he still loved her, or how deep it really ran. She sighed as she checked her watch before deciding it was time to make another round around the mall before calling to check in.

The young man had finished touring the high school he had at one time attended. He smiled as he stepped into the band class he had loved so much, and had grown so attached to. He left as the afternoon bell tolled the completion of another period of arduous studies. He traveled to the only spot he had yet to visit; the old Frisbee field. Upon his arrival, he gazed out onto the large field, smiling as he felt a warm breeze pass by. He had to admit, although the Japanese had a large variety of thing that America didn’t, they didn’t have the Frisbee he had grown to love. He flopped back onto the grass like he used to, staring off into the sky. He didn’t really have a place to return to, unless you count the hotel room he rented, and staying here seemed more appealing.

It grew dark, and one by one, the shops in the mall began to close, and slowly empty out as its resident’s headed home. Deciding to do the same, the woman retreated to her car, deciding on her next destination. She found that she couldn’t sleep when she arrived home, knowing that he was somewhere close. She got up and walked to his house, and gazed at the window to his room almost wishing him to appear like some kind of reverse Romeo and Juliet. She laughed a little when she realized that she herself did not possess as many memories of him as she thought. Memories of short days hanging out with him, or random and funny conversations, and Frisbee games were all that occupied his part of her mind. “Such a short list, a short time together” a dry laugh escaped, her head sank down into her chest. She spotted his car, dormant on the driveway, collecting dust from the inactivity of its master. Rides to nowhere, and rides to distant places with her in the passenger seat glowed in the back of her mind. Maybe she didn’t need a lot of memories, just the one that meant the world to her.

Almost five years of absence, and time had felt frozen here in his home town. Morning came, and he found himself walking along the paths around his old college. With a cap to hide his eyes, he wandered around taking in the sights, and the people. It was a strange love story, the boy who fell for a girl, only to have it end in pain. He wanted to start new, but maybe things hadn’t changed so much. The young man had met and seen wonderful people, young women of incredible beauty. But his own memories always haunted him, kept him from being anything more than friends.

She looked out upon what his friend had said to be their old campus. He had gone to park the car, dropping her off to look around. It was quite small for a college, but it felt like home. She wandered, slowly drawing in everything that had made the young man who he was. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she spied some kind of commotion happening in the corner near the parking lot.

The young man had been enjoying the old life he had left behind, slowly getting ready for his departure. Suddenly a warm breeze caught him and brought about that familiar scent that cause him to cry so much. He drops to his knees as the tears start to fall, and he hugs his arms to his chest, if only trying to grasp that fleeting breeze. He shakes himself off, and wipes the warm tears from his eyes and glances towards the road ahead. To his surprise, through the shadows and the parted crowd, a wavering dress, and a bright smile fill his vision. The crowd gathered around the both of them, and the young man slowly got up from his position on the ground to face the woman he had left. She was smiling, with tears slowly falling down her face, with a look that had said it all.
“You don’t remember anything. Please tell me you don’t remember…” The young man’s voice stuttered out.
“You don’t want me to remember? It’s hard to believe I forgot at all, but you’re the one responsible for it right?” she murmured as she wiped her eyes.
“I just didn’t…” the young man started
She silently placed a finger on his lips, killing anything he could think of.
“You said what you needed to say in my letter didn’t you? Let me make up for all of the time and the words that I couldn’t find…”
The breeze blows fiercely, scattering his thoughts like the leaves upon the ground, that ever so familiar scent causing his heart to race. Through the crowd they met face to face, the one who started it all, the fool who fell in love, the perfect woman, the most imperfect man, the beauty, and the crying beast.

As always, Happy reading!

I lied about the short story

2009-04-23T23:14:00.000-07:00

I was listening to some rather inspiring music lately, and I felt like doing some poetry again. I know I said I'd do a short story, but I lied... Sorry, I've been busy doing school work and setting up my next classes, so I haven't found any time to sit down and write anything more than poetry. Anyways, here's some poetry as a sorry for lying.

Pacing, Pacing, Pacing
An unknowing pawn in life
Marching to the tune of the Maestro
Singing like he was taught
Loud in this soul-less spiral
From the day he was conceived
To the day he became aware
His memories and his music betrayed him
He knew no better
He cried no harder
He drowned no faster
Lost in the current of time
His story hasn’t reached the end
He wanders farther into the world of truth
Fighting the urge of existing monotony
His cry reaches the corners of the globe
Falling to the floor
His shoulders heaving like those of a child
Sobs painting the darkened sky around him
Comfort falling from the sky
A shower of meteors
Wishes upon the falling tears in the sky
Sympathizing heavens send their blessings
Lost, but born anew
Hurt but never gone
He trudges on to his own beat
Drifting farther into the abyss

---------------------------------------------

Bound by the memories of our past
Chained to our hearts
I’m grasping the chain
Trying to find you, draw you closer
But our memories are thinning
Your love is running low
My love is killing me
I’m frantically swimming in this blanket of cold
Just wanting your warmth
I’m drawing ever closer to the end of the chain
Memories still fresh in my mind
And it suddenly slackens in my grip
And I’m left with nothing but the empty end of a cold chain
Weeping softly
Bound to the chain ever so heavy
I march off into the cold night alone

Happy Reading!

Some poetry this time

2009-04-20T00:10:00.000-07:00

I've had a hard time writing lately, finding ideas, inspiration to put something down on paper. I'm in the middle of writing another short story, but I'm getting some serious writer's block, so I'll post it next time. But I have some poetry today, something a little more modern and rough, so I warn you, the style isn't typical. But I hope you enjoy reading it.

Dang
Got my heart goin' again
Unpredictability is the only thing predictable
And my heart beating
Is such dangerous game
A time bomb in my chest
Shouting it's mind to the world
To diffuse or not
Is it really a question?
After all
I don't want to hurt you
I'm a time bomb
And these feelings will die alone

One more!

A young man brushes by me

Wrapping his arms around a woman in the crowd

A car breezes through them and off into the sunset

Wings in the air

Birds on the ground

A drummer throwing bomb through a window

And the sun you saw so high in the sky

Is now settling into night

As your eyes catch the young couple

On a park bench doing goodness know what

I blink before continuing to walk

Shielding my eyes from the blazing sun

And cranking the volume on my Ipod

We only exist in this song

Disappearing with each verse

Our story etched into the BGM of your life

The first poem is pretty straight forwards, so I won't go into it. But the second poem is a little obscure, so I'll explain and try to revise it later and re-post so it makes more sense.

I usually stare off when I listen to music, because I like to visualize what's going on in the music as if it's real life. So it's like a movie playing in my head as the music goes on and the characters act out the lyrics. But as I thought more about it, I felt kind of sad. Each person, each character is like a story, a character given life for one moment in each lyric or sentence. But I guess that's like our lives right? We're given moments to live in the small amount of time we have in our conscious lives, and after it disappears, we're left with the memories we've kept in our hearts, playing over and over like the lyrics in a song, or the scene from a love story. Anyways, if it makes sense to you, then I hope you try it, it gives life to the music you listen to everyday. Happy Reading!

New short story

2009-04-11T23:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know, I guess I've been in the mood for short stories. I want to spend time to write a novel, but I wouldn't know where to put it for people to read... So I think it's easier and more convenient to write short stories. Here it is!

It's an old love story, one that kept on playing, even into the late hours of the night. A young man, unable to sleep, wishes that the world around him would crumble. His "I need you" and his "Please don't leave me" are drowned out as the god's answer his wishes, and the young man is thrown into a displaced void. With the peace of mind he's only dreamed of, the young man finally set's his weary eyes to rest. After all he knows that even in this void, the woman he loves cannot possibly exist, and that all he once knew has come to an end, he finally had his peace. Suddenly the black world around him shrinks and it's replaced with a hospital room he's unfamiliar with. He's surrounded by people he could call his friends, and people he can call family. They're all weeping around a bed with someone whom he cannot see. He draws closer to the bed to see his own body lying amongst the rumpled sheets. Dazed and confused, the young man tries to shake his father, hug his mother only to have them slip through his fingers. The young man slumps to the floor, unable to do anything but let his world become as unstable as before. As the people leave, and his parents return home, he's left alone in a room with his body, and the soft beeping of his slow pulse on the machine next to its bed. The young man screams as the night begins to set in and sobs as he slides down the wall in a helpless lump. After all, no one cared when he was alive, he couldn't reach the cold hearts of his "friends" nor come to understanding with his "family", and the only one he had loved didn’t, no he wouldn't go there. His moment is interrupted by someone entering the room, `Must be a nurse` he thought as he sat in the corner. He's disrupted by a strong voice, one that filled his ears to the brim, causing him to cringe for a second. The voice tells him to look twice at the one who entered his room, for sometimes his mistakes can cause him to become blind to the truth. He looks disbelievingly towards the bed at the young woman next to his body. Even he cannot hide the surprise behind his depression as he recognizes his first and last love. She pulled up the chair his mother had been sitting in at the time of her visit and sits next to his body. He sees the confusion on her face, her gaze locked on his face. She begins to speak, softly as not to alert the nurses of her presence this late at night.

“I don’t exactly know why I couldn’t visit you earlier, when I got a phone message saying that you were in a coma in the hospital, with unknown causes on top of that, I just couldn’t believe it, my mind just kept telling me that… it just couldn’t be you” she whispered as she drew closer to the bed.

“You know, I’ve had people I liked before, people I felt I couldn’t live without, people that my heart grew attached to before I knew what was going on. I couldn’t, at the time of your confession, say the same about you, the way you made me feel, the things you said to me, all of it was so inspiring, and it kept me going. I couldn’t make the connection.” My head dropped as she said this, the young man knew, even in his dreams he couldn’t win her love.

“But I thought about it, the night after you said those things to me… I couldn’t pin it down, but when I thought about you, and your words, I felt like the world was new, and for once in my life, my heart leapt and flew” She smiled, sadness hidden deep in her eyes.

“I know I can’t quite take back the words I already said, and I don’t quite know if you can hear me. But I lied to myself when I told you that day, that there wasn’t any way for me to see you like that. I didn’t understand what my heart was trying to tell me, or what you were giving me, I didn’t understand anything at all” She whispered as she wrapped her hand around mine.

The young man felt his hand grow warm, and he continued watched over her as she stayed like that until morning.

Even the young man didn’t understand what had happened that night, but as the black void began to replace itself around him, the young man found his voice raising as he extended his hand to keep hold of that warm world he had stumbled into. The strong voice echoed through his head again, rivaling the young man’s screams. The voice commanded him to silence himself, rather he miss something in the last moments of his time here in this moment. The young man silenced himself, only to hear the young woman whisper.

“I know I can’t take the words back, but please wake up, so I can make it up to you, and maybe you’d forgive me… I lost the smile you gave me, and I’m ashamed to face you, the smile I happily showed others is gone now, and only you know where it is” as he sunk into the abyss, the young man’s last vision was of her leaning over his bodies chest, sobbing and clutching the small pendant around his neck.

A black depth surrounded his vision, something that only hours ago was comforting him. It was his turn to cry now. He had misunderstood her until the very end, and he had hurt her in the worst possible way. He clutched the pendant that hung around his neck as the tears fell. It felt warm to his touch, and he could feel her by his side in this desolate land. The voice that had commanded him echoed softly around him, in contrast to before, the young man had almost missed it completely. It spoke in a comforting warmth as it asked him, `Did you have a nice dream?`. The young man was furious when he had heard this, but he held his tongue when the stranger spoke again.

`Many people make mistakes, and your was one of many in an ocean we listen to everyday.` The voice materialized in front of the young man, it took the shape of an older man, graying but stout.

`I won’t say that your life was an impressive one, or one that deserved to be redeemed. But rather, your heart told us a tale that shook even the mightiest of us. It told us of a love surpassing love, one that couldn’t be counted in days or months, but rather years of a life. It told us of days ending in defeat, one after another, but the heart’s owner never stopped believing in love. What will you tell us about your life, what do you want?` He smiled, almost as if knowing what was to come.

The young man gritted his teeth, the tears flowing down his face as he looked at the old man. Somewhere in his heart, he felt the words flow into him, and he felt her warmth on his chest.

I only want a tomorrow with her, because with all my heart, I wish I could laugh with you once more even if it’s a dream that could never come true. I can see a tomorrow with you and I, and our meeting can’t have been coincidence.

The old man smiled, `Well said, we’ll see you soon`.

The young man sat up quickly still holding his warm pendant, a small gasp reaching his ears. The young woman hadn’t left his side since he had seen her. She grappled him and cried heavily into his shoulder, causing his shirt to become wet.

It wasn’t a dream, I saw your face, and heard your words, and felt your warmth…

“I can’t believe you’re awake, they said you wouldn’t… I never had the chance to say what I had meant to say that day…” She cried, gripping my shirt.

The young man pushed his fingers to the young girl’s lips. He hugged her close and silently cried on her shoulder, he didn’t need anything more, to be alive was something he had taken for granted.

I’m here, and I’ll never leave you again.

Well, as always, I'm not so sure about the flow of it, but I hope it's readable. I've had this reoccurring dream of being in a hospital watching my own body, and seeing people around me waste away as they grieve over my condition. I had always taken this as a sign to never give up on anything, life or love, or maybe I'm overestimating my presence on people. I always thought that if you can't find a reason to live for yourself, then you should live for other people around you, because you never know who might be missing you if you were to leave. Anyways, as always, Happy Reading!

Short Story update

2009-04-08T23:11:00.000-07:00

Maaaah Maaah, It's been a long time since I've updated, and I'd like to keep this as somewhat of a frequent task. But unfortunately that's not how things are right now, what with school and all. But here's a little something to keep some of you occupied. I haven't double checked this for any errors except for spelling, so let me know if this one flows in the right direction.

I have, for a long time, lived life by the tugging my heart. I had seen many things, from deserts to mountains, and even towards the edges of the majestic ocean. For many days and nights, I wandered alone sleeping under the stars, letting them guild me to the next destination. I came upon a small town happily existing on the edge of the ocean, thriving on the gifts in which the sea faring god gave them. I booked a night in the town inn one night, and went to explore the quaint setting. I happily talked to the local villagers about my travels and my experiences. They happily shared fish and parts of their bountiful harvest with me for a feast back at the inn. Slowly making my way to the inn to give the host the villager’s gifts, a young woman popped into my vision. Startled, I jumped backwards and fell, continuing to roll down the hill. She gathered the fish and helped me to my feet, brushing the dust from my face. The young woman giggled as she followed me back towards the inn. She listened intently as I recalled my visits to vast deserts and ocean view like her town. When we got back to the inn, I was quite startled to find her to be the host's daughter. She laughed as she took my offerings to the back and motioned for me to follow. As we began to prepare the meal for my coming to the village, she asked me a strange question.

"Do you know how to open a clam?" She said as she took the bucket from my hand.
"It's a simple animal really...All you need is to make it feel comfortable and it'll open up right away" She giggled as she washed them off one by one before throwing them into a pot of warm water.

We talked of all sorts of recipes and ways to cook, and we smelled together the wonderful spices that slowly wafted into the air. The young woman and I had laughed heartily into the night as many of the villagers decided to join us. After the feast concluded itself, I walked down to the beach to catch a glimpse of the setting sun. The young woman grasped my hand as we ran to the cliff dwarfing the town. Breathing heavy, we sat down to enjoy the last hours of daylight. For the hours leading into night, we talked of nothing but simple things, the sun, the stars. She had, without knowing it, enchanted me with her manner of speaking, and her honest smile. We walked back to the inn and I bid her good night as we parted to our separate rooms. My heart pounds as I lay in bed, honestly confused with myself. I had met many people on my journeys, but none were more than passer-bys, strangers forgotten in a strange land. But as I lay in bed, my mind filled with her hand grasping mine, leading me to a spot she knows by heart. My heart throbbed as I tossed and turned hearing her laugh and talk of life in her simple village. I sat up and got dressed, knowing rest at this point was impossible. Making my way back to the cliff side, the young woman enters my vision. My breathing hitches for a moment as I gaze at her, as she tilted her head towards the sky. She turns to me and whispers to me in that hauntingly beautiful voice.

“Why did you come here again? Although I guess you wouldn’t know. I guess… I forgot to mention the legend behind this cliff” She said, holding my hands close to her before turning away.

“The legend of this spot is powerful in my town. Once, twice, thrice a couple comes to Cape Tryst, and they shall be bound by love for an eternity” Her voice shook as she hugged herself tight against the cold night air.

“Are you not a traveler? Don’t you wish to keep traveling on your journey? I can already feel the legend coming to life, and the trapdoor in my heart is slowly shaking loose” She continued as I remained silent.

“It scares me, how sad I should become at your leaving. Just a few short hours ago you and I were strangers in a strange town meeting for the first time. But I feel as if you became a part of this village, someone who is irreplaceable, and who I expect to see day after day till I grow old” The young woman’s voice grows more desperate as she suddenly clings to me.

It’s strange how I began, a lone wanderer looking for a place to stay till I continued on tomorrow. I never really understood the people I visited, how their lives began and ended in the same towns, and with the same people they grew up with. I still don’t quite understand, but I’m slowly learning. These quiet days I spend here in this village, alongside a young woman who poured her heart out to me. I think I’m slowly starting to understand my own heart, and the accepting of another’s heart. I think they call it love, yes, these days I spent quietly, fishing in a town with the one I love have passed by rather quickly. My days of an adventurer are over, but the days of learning have just begun.

Well, I don't know about the structure of this short story, but I kinda like the idea of meeting someone if only for a few seconds, and feeling like you've been reunited rather than acquainted. It feels so mysterious to meet someone under these circumstances, I can't help but feel a chill down my spine. I've met quite a few people like this, and it still mystifies me. Of course I became good friends with them, but I still sometimes get the feeling like I've known them from another place or time. Strange right? I borrowed the idea of Cape Tryst from another story, so I'll give credit to Inokuma Shinobu for his romantic idea of two lovers connected through their meeting in a town legend. His work acctually keeps me believing in love, let's me believe that real love isn't beyond just characters in a novel or a movie, but can be experienced in many different ways, as well as be defeated in many different ways. Anyways, as always, Happy Reading!

2009-03-26T20:59:00.000-07:00

I just thought I'd stop by and write down some of my thoughts before I get started on my mountain of homework I have yet to do. I guess there are so many things happening all at once, and I'm slowly losing who I am in the ebb and flow of things. I really need someone who can keep me anchored in reality, keep me moving forwards. Although she couldn't care less, there's a woman who keeps me grounded down. I don't think she'd ever care about me, but life goes on shall I say... Anyways, here's what I came up with.

I tried to wrap my head around thing that my heart already knew... I can't forget you, or the feelings that you instill. In all of my pondering, all of my suffering, sleepless nights, restless days, I've only proved how little I know. The heart I thought I knew and understood, is so much more than just feeling, so much more than being alive. Moments when you're around, standing close, I can feel my heart talking to me, urging me on, pleading for me to take your hand. And when you're gone, I can feel my heart weep and cry out for you, I can feel it's shoulders slump in time with mine as we walk on the cold path together. Maybe I can't prove I have a heart, that we all have a heart. But I do know this... That when you're here, or when you're gone, I can feel the joy and sorrow, the pain and the light. I can feel you close to me, and I can feel your departure, don't keep me in suspense, and stay forever wrapped in my arms... All I need is to fly beside you, soaring high, buried in the clouds, kissing the sun as it warms my frozen heart.

I just don't know anymore, what I want, what I'm going for, who I can count on. Everything just seems so confusing and new right now, and I feel so overwhelmed. I've never surfed a wave bigger than 3 feet, but some how I think I can imagine what it's like to face a tsunami in the middle of the ocean. It's so hard to explain, when you think nothing is going right, when the one you love won't even look at you, when the days in all of their monotony seem to drag on forever, only prolonging the feeling of helplessness 10 fold. Anyways, if you came here for the poetry or the writing, please forget all of the useless and ridiculous ranting that just took place, after all, writers only have a duty to move and shape people hearts with the words and phrases they create, not to bore or freak them out. Happy reading!

A short story this time

2009-03-25T01:44:00.000-07:00

Back with a short story in hand! Enjoy!
"Open your mind, as well as your heart, for now my journey doth start..."

She starts off every morning the same, joining the world in a cold and empty bed. She strips off his shirt, hoping to catch a lingering moment of his presence before she readies for school. She takes a moment to hug it to her chest before continuing to the shower, letting the scent calm her. 'Today' she thought, 'Today he'll be back', as she steps into the lukewarm water. She throws on her uniform grabs her bad before she races out the door.
She arrives at school, racing towards the H 1 building, Home EC. She brought out a small bag; hand picked ingredients for a hand tailored meal. She races the clock, timing herself in the back parts of her mind, but paying more attention to the aroma and the tastes that slowly bring back the memories of meals next to him. It hadn't started out the way she had planned, her meeting of her knight. Her roof had been broken in a small typhoon, and she requested his help in fixing it. As any friend would, he accepted, and she in turn cooked for him. Curry had been his request that day, and he grinned when he said he "couldn't wait to taste it", happily pounding the nails into place. She remembered the first batch of curry she had tried to make for him and shuddered. She had messed up that day, the first batch of curry, and the one that followed that, and so on. She thought she had heard crunching sounds while he ate, but he just smiled and said how delicious it was to eat. That day, the young woman had vowed to take the cooking lessons that she had neglected. She shut the gas off, and packed the lunch accordingly, and quickly left as the bell rang for the start of school.
Her gaze today, could pass off as the gaze of one of the dead, her vacant stare pierces the board in the front. Her thoughts are completely overtaken by his image as the teacher drones on in the background, so she decides to look out the window. She looks towards the hills she knows, still have impressions left in the grass after hours of laying nestled deep, gazing at the lazy clouds drifting by. After all, that was their sacred place, a lone hill in the distance, a view where you could see the ocean, the town, and the small wisps in the sky all at once. The place where he had told her that his parents were moving at the end of the month, and that he couldn't live here anymore. She cried in his arms on that hill, buried in the same grass under the same sky. Time had stopped for her that day, right after he had promised to come back for her. It hurt so much to visit the places she held dear to her, places that always had visions of him and his smile. Suddenly a piece of chalk hits her square in the forehead, snapping her out of her revere as her teachers angry yelling comes sharply into focus, something about her "house in the sky".
Her trance continues through most of the day, and many of her teachers quit trying to reprimand her for it. The final bell ringing for the ending of school seemed to be the only thing to snap her out of it. Running past the good byes of her friends and her teachers, she races towards the trains. She gasps for breath as she squeezes onto the train before she takes a seat next to an elderly couple. She places the meal she made this morning on her lap and quickly checks the contents for any disturbances during her run. Scenery passes by with a blur, and soon the young woman's gaze turns back to the vacant set of eyes she had on at school. Time passes, and she hears something out of the corner of her vision. The elderly man she had sat next to was inquiring to the whereabouts of the young man she usually courted. The young woman blushed profusely before stating that he had moved a while back, but should be returning today. Her comment was met with sympathy as the old couple both agreed that they were such a fitting couple. The young woman couldn't help but feel her temperature rise as she prepared to leave.
She stepped off the train to the sight of people dragging suitcases and humongous handbags, small children running after their mothers and old men smoking. The memory of her first trip to the airport was the young man's departure. She had refused to see him off that day, not wanting to accept his leaving her side, denial taking firm root in her mind. Her friend called her, wanting to give her his last massage. Her grandfather had always said to the both of them, "Life is full of inconsistencies. Most of the time, I wander around wondering about how things could have been. But nothing can bring back the past and all I can do is learn from them no matter how painful". His story was always about his fighting in the world war, vivid descriptions about him fighting like a mad man to make it back alive because he never had the chance to confess his love to the young woman's grandmother. Without missing a second, she made it to the airport, if only to both confirm their love before they parted. Shaking her head, she double checks the flashing gate time with the hand written paper foretelling his arrival. She notices that the plane had landed and had disbanded its crew at her arrival. Panicking, the young woman asks the stewardess if there was anyone left on the plane. The stewardess explained that they caught a tailwind that upped their arrival time, and asked if she was looking for someone. She thanked the stewardess before running off to look for the young man. After frenzied minutes of running, she collapses to the floor in a sobbing heap with the lunch box in her arms, fearing he had never made it home. She feels someone kneel behind her, and she gasps as she feels the strong arms she knows encircle her, with that warm and faint scent flooding her senses. Turning around quickly, she's met with his goofy grin, his chocolate brown eyes meeting hers. Hastily, she closed the gap between them as she kissed him, cutting off any kind of speech. The lunch box that had been so meticulously prepared for him, lay forgotten on the ground as her head rested in the crook of his neck. His arrival meant one thing; that time could finally start moving once more. They could pick up where they left off in the past, sharing the memories that meant the world to them, slowly making their way into the present.

And that folks, is a wrap. I did a little modifying on the fly, so I hope it's a little more easy to read. Thanks for reading!!!

Let's get started!

2009-03-23T23:24:00.000-07:00

I'm going to hopefully post new things that I come up with, but to get things rolling, I'm going to post something a littler older. I might also from time to time, post some of my older works, just for kicks and giggles so hope you enjoy!

He finds his rhythm, he has taught himself the rhyme and his world falls open at his feet when the one in front of him is singing his melody ever so sweet. She knows the dips, she knows the chords, she knows his heart's key change, drawing him a step forwards. His trip around the world only comes to a halt as they sing together the last note, stepping together, avoiding glances, they meet face to face. Only in the sweetest of silence can you hear their hearts beat as one.

Not one of my better works. One more!

I'm dying to meet you

The one who will unchain me from my loneliness

The one who will show me what love is

And the one who will love me

I'm dying to meet You

Who has the power to bring down the mountains

In which my body has been chained to so unwillingly

I'm dying to meet you

Whether I know you or not

You, who can return to me, the wings of life

Who can fly beside me in the darkest of hours

I'm waiting for your arrival

I'm dying ever so slowly
Really, truly
I'm dying to meet you
The one who will unchain the fate of death
And give me the wings of life

Although I'm not published or anything, please don't steal my words or my poems and call them yours or anything, not just with me, but with any author, please give them credit! Although if you happen to use them to impress a beautiful woman, or a handsome man, please feel free to leave my name out of it, it'll make you look more romantic! Thanks for reading my first post!

Getting started, and rolling forever

2009-03-23T22:42:00.000-07:00

It feels strange, introducing yourself to an audience you can't see or you don't know is even reading. But I guess I'll let my writing stay here for those who want to read it. Hi, my name is Dale Gima, I'm a writter, a child, a college student, a martial artist, a cripple, a hopeless romantic, a loner, and I'm here to tell a story that will continue as long as I can write. I want to let people have the freedom to read my poetry and my short stories, as well as obtain some feed back, and get to know some authors out there in the world that I've never met; and trust me, there are alot of you out there! So let's get this started ok? Happy reading!

-Kazki (Dale)