Twilight series…

Okay, two seconds ago I mentioned this.

Twilight series.  Stephenie Meyer.

Do it.  Read it.  I can’t imagine not enjoying these books.

PS.  Edward.

PPS.  Don’t read too much of the info if you’ve not gotten through the books first, especially not the FAQs.  Despite the clear warnings, I still managed to skim over things I didn’t necessarily want to know about the third book…

But do check her website out for some more on the books.  Especially helpful during times of withdrawal, unless you’re a glutton like me who managed to read every single outtake and special chapter in one night.

Stephenie Meyer’s site, Twilight section

The fourth comes out this next fall.  If you have any good ideas on holding me over until then, feel free to suggest.

Traveling (motto, traveling…)

Eh, no one gets that reference.

It does stuff to ya, though.  For me?  Makes me sick.  Food poisoning, then I lose my voice?  No one said anything about fair.

I’m thinking I might end up with a life somewhere down this road.  I don’t mean that I’ll move to Thailand.  But something’s happening.  I’m just finally picking up and getting ready for it.

I’m nothing like what I was three years ago.  Two.  One year ago.  Nothing.  It makes me sad that there are people out there who think I’m still that me.  I didn’t like that me.  If I met me of three years ago now the only thing I’d want to do is hand me some hot cocoa and tell me to get over it, that I would, and that I have to be stronger.  Time to grow up, I’d say.

I like me now.  I don’t like that I’m shy.  I can’t talk to boys I think are cute.  I can’t always find something to do on weekends, but it’s okay.  I don’t need to.  I like me anyways.   So there.

Oops?

Okay, classic overreaction.  Mejor Amiga makes sense, thank God for that, because I can run off with something and completely lose a grip.

I do still have colossally bad timing, though who knows.  Maybe it’s all right.  Maybe it’s not.  I’m willing now to let that one figure itself out.

実は、私自分には信じないから。あたしの事が忘れに優しく出来ると思うって、だからあの人はあたしが忘れる。バカみたいなあ？あの人忘れないよ。

希望があるよ。それが人生には一番大事ない。でも希望がある。

I’m not translating that.

seasons

We all think we’re so grown up
So experienced
We know so much
And I’m so afraid
Of the day
We all find out we’re wrong

The world of seventeen
Gets more broad by forty-three
Seasons change
In a way
Where fed up
Was years ago
And snow falls
Before the sun
Gets its chance to go down
Before leaves
Even get to let go

Like the blooming
Of so many flowers
Taking place
Over so many hours
And the color
From another sunset sky
With the age
People change

Innocence fades

A for Apple.

I was talking to a girl in class last week.  Somehow we were talking about apples.  I don’t know how someone starts a conversation about apples, nor do I know how the conversation is kept.  Despite my lack of knowledge, we were talking about apples.

She circled her hands over a part of the counter.  The apple.  One hand sliced through.

“When you cut an apple in half, you see a star.”

I looked, a little confused, at the black spot where the fruit wasn’t.  “Really?”  I paused, imagining it.  She waited patiently, wondering what I was struggling with.

To show her, I drew out with my finger the shape I had always seen–really, just an apple.  Two odd half-circles that went too far and were too stretched to actually meet.  Just lump together.

“No, I guess it’s with the seeds.  You’re supposed to see a star in the seeds.”

My finger sketched those out, too, leaving small traces of oil, barely there, where the strokes were.  Little dash marks.

I couldn’t see it, and I’ve never heard of an apple being compared to a star.  (“Only when they’re cut in half,” she assured me.  I nodded and smiled.)  But I wish I had seen it.  I wish I could see the star, hidden in the apple.  There’s really not much to that, except I really like stars, I guess.  I’m glad people see things I don’t.

I’ve got a plan, by the way.   A real plan.  You’ll catch on very quickly.  I promise.  But this wonderful plan of mine should get me posting pretty regularly for at least the next month.

Mata ashita.

So tell me…

Is it alright,
To be a little more awkward than I should?
I know it gets me nowhere…

But still, maybe I’ll do something right.
Doubt it–
–I don’t have the kind of personality
For that kind of luck.

Blink
Smile
Stare
Are you seeing me?  The wall behind me?
Do I even care as much as I say I might?

Sure, it’d be great if something just made sense.
Something like this poem, that’s not even poetic.
I’m just writing here.
I’m just scribbling.
That’s what I do best.
Empty thoughts fill empty paper–

It looks whiter than the page I began with.

Oh, the times when words don’t even make sense anymore.
Writing, much less.
Type away, type away.
You’ll recognize it soon enough.

See it?  Confidence.
Slowly peeking through the headache
Of what’s felt like a thousand days gone by.
(Everyone uses a thousand.)

I’ll be okay, in the end.

I just wish the journey could change.

Moments of grace.

The sky is sparkling tonight.

Each crystal catches the light, dancing upon the wind, slowly swaying with the playing of the moonlight on the snowflake.

It’s cold, but I don’t care.

I might not feel my toes, my nose, or the tips of my thumbs.  But for a moment, in the dark, only ever in the dark, I can feel past the trees and the glow of the buildings into something I could imagine as soothing and eternal.  Wonderful wishing, this moment of grace.

Quietly my mind sweeps the area around me.  I have to be alone to be so free, forgetful of being lonely.  I wish my mind worked in other ways.  Ways of pretty girls with flowing skirts, and eyes like the stars in the sky, the stars I can’t see through the clouds.  Their laugh could make the world feel better, their smile cause time to skip its beat, until their destiny is fixed forever into stories told to make little girls snuggle down for happy dreams.

I keep my voice to myself and pull the scarf up to my eyes before I allow my arms to trail out.  For a moment I watch as my warm coat melts each beautiful flake, each precious and unique flake, that might’ve been caught by a pretty girl’s lashes.

Then, I let myself begin to turn, because the sky is sparkling tonight, and I decide to feel what I could never be.

Haiku!

雪景空
眠れない夜
星がない

Sekkei sora
Nemurenai yoru
Hoshi ga nai…

Snowy sky
A sleepless night
No stars…

And she returns.  Sick, yes, tired, yes, back at school and already worried over work again.  But in tact, with poetry at my side.

I’ve got some other stuff, so hang in there.  It may have been ages since I’ve actually put something up, but the internet signal here is, well, existant.

Ciao!

A terrible writer am I.

I know, I know, I’ve been horrible at maintaining this.  Two days and I’m free.   Free, I tell you.   From the clutches of Academy.

But just in case you thought I was dead (hell, I’ve thought I was dead for the past couple weeks), I thought I’d put something up.  Even if all this does is make people laugh at my ridiculousness, that’s okay.  Sometimes, I’m truly ridiculous.  All you have to do is ask Classic Act’s boy.  He might write decent poetry (and fanfic!) but in his freetime, what he really likes to do is mock people! (a la Josh Lyman…I miss that name)  Lucky boy, that I know not to take it seriously.  I have a mean kick.

Oh, the novel…the one that was maybe going to be a NaNoWriMo, is going.  But it is not going quickly.  (Note the lack of time to update here.  I have about two minutes to finish typing this, and it’s off to a chemistry lab) It should be done sometime within the next…few…months.  Wow, it’s never encouraging to admit that sort of thing.  This stuff really is a lot of time.  But that way, it’s actually a finished, polished product, rather than something sketched out.  I’ll keep random updates on that going.

Well, at this point, it’s Mata Doyoubi.  Ashita is all too close and jam packed with not-my-birthday and four hour internetless bus rides home.

But Saturday (Doyoubi) will come sooner than I think.  It always does.

NaNoWriMo 2006

My last three posts are a short story I’ll probably carry into my NaNoWriMo.  I’m thinking.  I didn’t have planning time before because getting to a foreign country is so much work.

Any thoughts?  Good start?  Is it a typical, or annoying premise? (Something I’m always worried about is being too generic.  I’ve been spinning around the story to try to get something out of the ordinary.)  Help, four days into the month, could be fantastic.

…thanks.  ^_^

As a footnote, please, as always, be completely honest.  If it’s terrible, I’d rather know that than write junk.  Agreed?