12.31.08

aaron

Posted in loved ones at 10:21 am by simplemelody

I was at home one afternoon four months ago when Christina called to tell me he was killed. When was the last time I saw him? I think in Superstore, or was it in continental plaza? I had just saw the new pictures he posted up on facebook. He was tan and had a teeth-showing smile on, very much here, and alive, more so than most people, more so than me. His faces were everywhere throughout the years after highschool. He was on TV, interviewed in magazines, in commercials… I was sure one day, the only way to see him would be in his concerts and movies. 

I was depressed after the news. And it was hard to justify my depression because we were never friends. I was just one of the many girls in highschool who was in love with him. I am sure we each have our little Aaron stories to tell. I don’t have much to tell. Here it is anyways.

It was the first day of  CAPP class. Ms. Panas made us play games to get to know each other and one of them was to line up according to our birthdays, but we had to figure this out silently. It would’ve been an enjoyable game for me because I didn’t speak much English back then, but I had come to believe this inability extended to everything else I did, so I was timid and nothing much was enjoyable. I stood in midst of people laughing, nudging and pushing each other and wished for the game to be over so I could sit back down in the corner. And then he looked at me, somehow we figured out that his birthday was right after mine so he stood next to me. It was the first time I felt calm that day. 

He was tall and stood so straight, there was an integrity in his stance. I didn’t know it then, but soon and for the next two years I’d be always looking for him in the crowded highschool hallways. I didn’t realize that he was exceptionally handsome at first. After the first day of class I fell back into my own blinding anxiety of the world and didn’t see him again till we were put in a small group. It was a group of three. The other girl in the group grew impatient of me right away. I couldn’t blame her. I couldn’t even understand the question we were working on. I sat in front of Aaron with an apologetic look on my face and wished I could be excused from participating in anything at all from now on. He stood up and walked away. Just as I was about to retreat further into myself, he came back with a thick, old dictionary, plopped it on the desk and started going through each word I didn’t understand with me. I will never forget his kindness.

We were to bring food for the last day of class. Ching was nice enough to bake egg tarts for me to bring to school. It is a popular dim sum dessert that everybody loves, or so I thought. The egg tarts I brought sat on the desk with the chips and pop looking just as out of place as I had felt. One boy looked at them and said, ewwww. I sat alone watching the table of food, feeling bad for the untouched egg tarts. Then Aaron grabbed one and ate it. Then he ate another one, and another one. And with his mouth stuffed with egg tarts, he said to someone standing beside him, this is really good. 

Girls loved him. He was tall and handsome,  a Tai Kwan Do black belt, a basketball player… like a character from a teen romance novel. But I secretly took pride in loving him for a different reason. Then I graduated highschool and saw him less. I always ran into him in superstore, parker place, aberdeen, continental plaza though… He had grown up and became a manlier, more polished version of himself, but I could still see the kid with egg tarts stuffed in his mouth in him. 

Yesterday my family and I went to Parker Place for lunch. It was a frequent hang out place for him and it made me sad again to be there and sense how different the place was. Words are really beyond useless when it comes to death. Such loss is indescribable, and incomprehensible. I write now to remember him, however trivial my piece with him is, it is significant to me. And the loss of him will remain with me always.

12.30.08

Tuesday Night

Posted in Babble at 9:22 pm by simplemelody

Two semester ago Andrea brought me The Diary of Anne Frank, to return the favor I gave her the book One Continuous Mistake, Four Noble Truths for Writers by Gail Sher. It is one of my favorite books on writing. There’s a tranquility in the way Sher writes that resonates with me. The reading experience of this book was enjoyable and meditative. Last week when I saw Andrea for our little creative writing students get together event, she brought the book back to me. I had forgotten about it until that day, and  it felt as if I was gifted something special. I am starting to read it again and am reminded of how it made me feel the first time reading it. I think I am a better writer now and I look forward to learning from this book again. 

Jeff made fun of me yesterday when I looked at him and exclaimed, your eyes! they look like winter movies! He thought this demonstrated my poor ability to describe things as a writer. Later when we walked outside he made fun of me again when I pointed to the sky and said, look! the clouds look like fifi’s hair behind her ears. He raised one of his eyebrows and said, and you call yourself a creative writing student? Why does he abuse me so..?

So I saw mr. nice eyes/big hands again, sober this time and was glad I was not a bad judge of character when drunk… but then again, I have been proven to be a bad judge of character when sober, so how would I know?  I enjoyed his company and his rhythm. I didn’t feel drained at the end of the day. So I am quite happy.

I am going to stay in all day tomorrow and socialize minimally.

12.29.08

public washrooms

Posted in Babble at 10:25 pm by simplemelody

I have a strange relationship with public washrooms, that is, I both need and fear them. How I fear them, let me count the ways…

1. When I use the bigger stalls for the disabled, I fear a disabled person may be lining up outside. So I always do my business a little faster in these stalls.

2. There’s always a moment of suspense when I push the stall door open. I half expect a ghost kid to be sitting on the toilet or a human head stuffed in the toilet (It’s happened to me once when I opened the door and a little boy identical to the one from The Grudge, looked up at me from the toilet. I was half petrified, half thinking, I knew it! But his mom was in the stall next to us, so it was a little anti-climatic). 

3. This one is really strange, but i guess I’ve already established my insanity…. so… i also fear when using the toilet a hand may reach out from it and grab me. yah, i know… i am crazy.

4. If there are windows or vents in the washroom, I think someone’s looking at me from them.

5. I fear running out of toilet paper, walking into what other people have left behind, forgetting to lock the door and getting walked in on… 

6. Last but not least, I fear the auto flush flushing on me when I am still on toilet. 

There it is, my fears of the public washrooms. I am, otherwise a relatively sane person.

12.27.08

silence

Posted in poetry at 5:55 pm by simplemelody

say something say something
say hi say hey say how are you
be casual be cool be calm
be anything
but true

but true
is all i know
so no
i can’t speak to you

silence is better
than how are you
it is closer
to the truth

so i choose silence
instead of you
silence
you.

re words

Posted in poetry at 5:37 pm by simplemelody

retreat retract
realize
remember recount
reconnect
rectify
read me read me
regret
react rebel reform
revolve
restate restate
retell
resonate ready
release

music

Posted in learning at 11:47 am by simplemelody

I am excited about picking up the guitar. Between practicing the cello and the guitar, the tips of my left hand fingers are now quite calloused. I think my cello is improving… very slowly. Occasionally I produce a note not so tortuous on the ears and I look up to the sky to see if heaven had cracked open. Playing the guitar is a little bit more satisfying because I get to sing. They both exhaust me though. My hearing is very sensitive and I get easily affected by sound. It takes a lot of my energies when my hearing is continuously stimulated. 

With some more practice, I think I could be pretty good at this guitar business :)

12.26.08

Continue to Hermit

Posted in Babble at 12:49 pm by simplemelody

I treasure time at home. This is when I replenish, reflect, gain perspective and recharge. I am more content and whole after times like this. So here’s my plan for a very nourishing day~

~yoga~
~practice cello~**
~butterfly painting~***
**~play guitar~
****~read~
~meditate~
~chapters~*

Will be a nice day for moi :D

My Women

Posted in loved ones at 10:28 am by simplemelody

It is good to have Sabrina home. Jessamin comes over to hang out and all of a sudden it is like when we were all in high school again. The three of us used to hang out together all the time. I was more of a tom boy back then, a chubby, awkward looking girl. In winters I was inseparable with my large jacket. It hid my body nicely. In summers I wore a huge sweat shirt. Again, the extra fabrics draped over me like a layer of protection. I never worn a tank top. Sabrina and Jessamin wore tube tops and talked about boys who went after them. I must’ve been jealous, but what I remember more clearly is the invisible wall that separated us. They entering into womanhood, and I, still on the other side, stumbling and searching for the entrance. 

Regardless of our differences, we shared a strong bond and endless laughters and giggles over bubble tea, sleep overs at jess’ house, late nights in stanley park, walks in parker place and the old aberdeen… then we each entered our first serious relationship, then second and third… and we spent less time together as a girlie trio. 

This Christmas marks the very first time in ten years that the three of us are single at the same time. We spent the christmas morning together. I picked up the guitar again and was sitting in my room singing Jack Johnson’s Better Together, Nina and Jess were sitting on my bed chatting about their impressive and not so impressive dates. Outside, the world was covered in snow, all the rough edges smoothed over by the white flakes. It was a really, really good morning.

12.25.08

touch my back

Posted in poetry at 11:17 am by simplemelody

*a friend of mine recently wrote a very sexy poem that I enjoyed tremendously, it is both sensual and arousing and this poem is inspired by him, i mean, his poem ;p It is definitely the most um… sensual one I’ve written. It’s just for fun, i know it’s not great, but I had fun writing it ;)

Touch my back
run your fingers
along spine
then back up
to my neck
cup it
breathe
breathe into my neck
my earlobe

Touch my back
I want to feel
the warmth
of your palm
tingle on me
Run your hand from my back
to my thighs
the inside of my thighs
linger there
for awhile
long enough so that
I shiver
and a little longer
just keep your hand
there
right there

Now move up
a millimeter at a
time
look in my eyes
see me
when you dip in
gently
not so gently

fuck me
and make love to me

Touch my back
guide me
until we are
one rhythm
we sing the same
song of
ha!
ha…
and mmm….
mmm…
and oh god, oh, god…

Touch my back
as we go
up
and
down
watch my black hair
dance
and my brown wet eyes behind
it

Touch my back
then touch my breasts
choke me
then caress my face
Bite me,
then nibble.
Pinch,
lick.

Touch my back,
tell me before
you get there
ask me
where do you want it
and let me kiss
with my soft pink lips
your joy that
pulsates and oozes

Touch my back
draw me close
to your chest
sigh
breathe

Touch my back
kiss me
and again

Joy~

Posted in loved ones at 10:09 am by simplemelody

I’ve been in such a great mood since last night. I got to read  in bed. Nina came in and we chatted about boys. When I was reading last night, an overwhelming sense of joy washed over me, so I texted Mark and told him I am grateful for him. I talk about him so much here. I just feel really safe with him and I know he  always receives me well. Our friendship is so wholesome and I believe the appreciation is mutual. Love Mark.

This morning I woke up at 7, meditated for an hour, had breakfast and now I am sitting back in my blanket, listening to french acoustic music, nina’s journaling on my bed, jeff’s talking to me on msn from toronto… what more could i ask for on this christmas morning?

We are staying in today. Jess will come over and we’ll watch movies together. I am excited :)

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