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31 December 2010 @ 11:28 pm
December 31 is notorious for being the worst day of the year for me. Why is it that this happens yearly?
30 December 2010 @ 01:23 pm
So much death in the family within my three weeks of break from school. First, my dad's relative. Then, my mom's uncle. Now it's my grandma's turn.

Lola is in the hospital for whatever reason. Depression from her brother's death. An enlarged heart. Weak kidneys. Weak liver.

It's saddening to see my mom cry over her own mother's pain.

Usually, whenever there's a death in my mom's side of the family, hardly anybody has the balls to do anything about it. They're hardly ever there during bad times. They flock here when there are parties. They don't want to fork up money for funerals, for their own family members. "Times are bad. I don't have any money." How about a hundred? A twenty? A one? Anything will help.

I'm leaving home in a few days for school. I won't be there when my grandma passes away. Am I just as bad as my other family members?
22 December 2010 @ 11:52 am
Take a look at my new community, bblackswan , which is dedicated to Darren Aronofsky's latest movie, Black Swan.

I have always been a fan of Aronofsky's psychological thrillers, and it's great to see that with the release of his newest movie, his fan base has increased.
14 December 2010 @ 08:49 pm
Please help me win scholarship money from Brickfish.com by voting for my entries in a photography contest. Vote every day, if you can. I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you so much!

17 September 2010 @ 04:31 pm

Photo taken by me. Please don't use without my permission.
05 September 2010 @ 02:14 pm

Picture taken by me. Please don't use without my permission.
20 July 2010 @ 04:03 pm
Thank you to everyone who voted for my entry in the Brickfish contest to win scholarship money. I believe I got first place, but I don't think I will know the official results until August 16.
05 July 2010 @ 06:42 pm
Day 1:
Welcome to Vietnam. Hello, Saigon. Hi, Ong Noi. It's nice to finally meet you.
Oh, the poverty; I was starting to hate myself.

Day 2:

Ah, durian. It tasted alright. I don't understand why people say it tastes/smells like rotten eggs. If anything, the fruit resembled custard.

Good seeing you, Bill. I actually kind of missed you. I couldn't stop smiling in the taxi, but I didn't appreciate the flirtation attempts.

You know, I think I was getting the hang of walking across the loud, busy streets filled with motorcycles and Vinasun taxis.

Day 3:
I saw a young man who smiled to himself as he minded his own business. People don't smile as much as they should, here in Vietnam. His small smile was a treasure. I was sad when fatigue from carrying crates of dishes wiped his smile away.

I want to remember his face.

Day 4:

See you soon, Saigon. I'll walk across your busy streets and listen to your endless honking in a few days. Nha Trang is calling me. There are more tourists here. More wind. More water.

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18 June 2010 @ 10:08 am
June 9, poetry slam for English. Topic: K-12 education.

Our final for English class was to write a poem about our education or life during our kindergarten through twelfth grade years. In order to receive an A, one must cause the class to laugh or cry. In the attempt to write sad, profound poems, I found that the way I wrote the piece just wasn't sad enough. I probably couldn't make a true emotional connection to my writing; everything seemed so forced. As a result, I decided to write a funny poem instead. I went online and read Shel Silverstein's work for inspiration. At last, I was about to write... about my love for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

When I read it aloud to my English class, people laughed at my silliness. The style and the topic were so me. People knew that.

However, much of the serious poems--and even some funny ones--had such a raw edge to them. A cloud of emotions grew heavy in the classroom. It was almost as though human nature was stripped to the bone. We were all naked that day, and we had nothing to hide.

A girl wrote about having an abortion. Another described the relationship between she and her best friend. (The first thing on our list was to be friends forever.) And yet another talked about leaving her non-friends behind and falling in love with the earth and her gay best friend.

I wanted to hold Alex when he cried as he spewed anger, an emotion he got from having the worst year of high school. My heart dropped for Nick when he mentioned his mom and how people in our class judged him by the way he looks. (But after he read his prose piece, I knew the people in our class dropped their judgments. People began to say they felt bad for thinking of him as dumb, unworthy guy in our AP English class.)

I don't want to forget that day. I want to return to my teacher, Ms. T, and reminisce on the experience. I want to remember how comfortable and accepted we all felt.

We wore our hearts on our sleeves, and we all held each other's hearts in our cupped hands.
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15 June 2010 @ 04:11 pm
There's no point in being "fake nice". If you want to be kind, you should show compassion that comes from the bottom of your heart.
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