Why do people succumb to anger?
It feels so easy to slip into its grasp. But at the same time, from a distance, it looks quite stupid. Aren't we overreacting? What's the point of hitting one another, yelling at one another, going to war with one another? Yet when are up close, immersed in anger, we feel nothing but blissful rage, if that makes sense. Sweet revenge empowers us. Makes us feel as if we are at the top of the world. Maybe it is a survival mechanism. But I sure wish it weren't.
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T'en fais pas.
Don't worry. Life can be tough at times, but with strength and faith we can pull through.
Was talking with my bro yesterday, and he wanted a blog. He can't even type really well, and I realized that if I did let him blog, he'd stay up all night at it. I love my bro. We don't fight much, it's just lazy wars [you get me a cup of water. why should i?]. But when we're not lazy warring we're chill.
It's weird that I can relate to my parents in parenting. When it's just me and my bro, it's like I'm the parent scolding him, giving him advice, telling him to go to bed, ignoring him when he bothered me during my homework and giving a crabby response. It's so weird.
Being a teen, I wish for two things: 1. to become younger. 2. to just get out of adolescence quickly. I do not like being a teen. You are depicted as moody, stubborn, and always questioning authority. I don't get it. Why do teens do that? Why can't we just be silent and listen to our parents? Why do we always need to rebel?
I don't know what I plan to do after high school. Or what college to go to. I think doing extracurriculars for college is overrated. It's not really going to do you any good later on. People should do an activity because they like it. I guess I've been doing that with my extracurriculars: music and debate.
I really don't like spreading myself out in many places at once. I like to take one thing at a time. Multitasking prevents you from doing both jobs well. And what's the rush? What will you do afterwards anyways?
I need to manage my time better. I've been staying off the computer as much as I can though! xD If there's one thing everyone should rebel against, it should be technology, except for maybe in hospitals. Computers, car, etc make us so lazy. I can't ever remember exerting myself over transportation.
Speaking of exertion, my mile time has gone from a 7:58 to a 8:30. I don't get why I can't run fast anymore! I want to, but once I start running, I feel like walking. I also do not want to take Dance next year. Dance is not what I do. I'd like to take Elect, but I don't know if I'm up to the runs they have. Ah well, I still have time to decide...
I'm off to Snoopy's house for w4p documentarying!
[Edit: Adding a blurb 'cause I feel like it.]
Guess what I'm describing. It's something that I love very much and also personifies me. This poem is what's been going through my mind for these past few years. Tell me what you think it is!
My life is renewed with water,
I am given new life by its soft touch.
All the days, I long for the crash of water upon myself.
Day and night are dull without water to revive me.
I throw a fit, a tantrum when being suppressed by iron,
yet I gradually change back to myself back.
Some may think me ugly,
some may tell me to change.
Some may tell me to be normal,
some may tell me to give in.
None can stop me from being myself;
I bow down to no other will than His own.
I am seen as a happy, bouncy individual
yet deep inside me,
I am hollow.
I know not any other feeling but emptiness.
I await some element to complete me,
to fill in my hollow inside.
I wait for water.
Things I'm grateful for:
-music
-wind
-rain
-bisibelebath YUM.
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After I saw this, I felt the need to post. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/8534040.stm
I am amazed at how much life a picture can capture. Half an hour ago, I went outside to mail a letter. I looked at a streak in the sky left by a plane, above a tree with some flies buzzing around it. I have never felt the need to take a picture so badly.
I walked to the mailbox at the end of my driveway, and I stared out into the lot in front of me. It was beautiful, green weeds closer to me were clear, but beyond the "No Trespassing" sign, there was a goldish-green field of fuzzy looking weeds. It was selective focus of nature. The world is just too perfect. There are so many details that I see that scream at me. And I look at my empty hands. I have no camera.
People tend to realize the value of something they don't have. When you have water, you take it for granted. When you don't, you know you're screwed. When you're deprived every cell in your being cries out for that thing. Right now, I am pining for a camera.
Everywhere I go I see things that I want to preserve. I was waiting for my mom to pick me up from debate today, and I found a tree stump, cleanly shaven, surrounded by fuzzy plants. I saw a big lampost with a rusty sign saying "Do not go over 15mph."
Today was the Course Info Fair. I went to math, science didn't learn anything I didn't know. But then I went to Photography. I fell in love with that room. Black and white stills were all over the wall, some framed, some not. There was a backdrop and that light bulb thing and a dark room! with swivel doors. They also had awesome foamy black computer chairs. The room was filled with people; I guess I'm not alone. I was there with DK and ED, and ED was hyperventilating over the prospect of taking the class. I went and asked the probablity of me getting into the class if I put it as 7th choice. The teacher said it wasn't very likely for me to get in, unless I put it as my 6th.
I trudged over to French to find out that if I put that as 7th then I probably wouldn't get it either. GREAT. Now I have to give up photo for an elective that I know I have to take. :[
My dad says I can take a DeAnza course, but that's not going to be the same. I just wanted to take the course as an elective in school. I just want to take pictures of the world I see.
In a book I read, the author was saying how a photographer tried to capture the image of a saint. Every time the picture was developed, the saint would be replaced with a bright white. I didn't really know what the author was trying to say about photography...I don't really want to take pictures of people. I just want to take pictures of the minute things I see. I just want a camera. That's it. That's it.
Things I'm grateful for:
-logs [yes, logs]
-photography
-plants
-airplanes
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une photo
It's been a while since I've been able to sit down and write, so here I am! xD
Last Thursday, in math we had to watch a chick flick, 500 days of summer. NEVER WATCH THAT MOVIE, YOU WILL BE SCARRED FOR LIFE. But no matter how bad a movie is, once I start, I need to know the ending. So I imdbed it and didn't like the ending either.
Coming out from that class, I felt super weird. I felt like my brain was replaced with a camera. I felt like a photographer, holding a video camera, recording everything in sight. I felt like I was out of the scene, sort of like a person who was invisible to all, yet watching, silently.
Ever since then, I found myself to be obsessed with photography. Everywhere I go, I can't help but try to notice the details that no one else does. On Friday, I went to a bowling party. Since no one of my age was there, I ended up silently watching everyone else. Call me a stalker if you like, but I noticed some interesting things.
There were 2 bowlers in a lane to our left: one girl, one guy. The girl had sweatpants from WHI high school. The guy wore a light blue t-shirt and when he bowled, it seemed like he dropped the ball on the lane, instead of rolling it. Maybe we're actually supposed to bowl like that... He did get a lot of strikes.
I saw that on the ground, there were alternating black, gray and white tiles. On the ceiling, fire sprinklers formed 2 lines which seemed to get closer and closer together, yet never meet. Like a hyperbola trying to touch the x-axis.
The ceiling was also spotted with purple rectangles, UV light. All white stuff glowed. The bleu on my shirt, my shoelaces, my socks, they all turned a bright white color.
I put my bright red, blue, and white shoe on a black tile and admired it. At the time, I found minute details that I felt would be perfect in a photo. I was thinking like a photographer, and when my eyelids blinked, a shot would be taken. I made a hand frame and took a few pictures of a silver tray and pretzels.
Photography has always interested me, now more than ever. Photography is a way to bring back memories, to capture the beauty of the world, to see what is hidden in what we always see.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kDQY_oHN1s watch it
Check it out. It's so true, we always miss what we're not looking for. Just think of how many details you've missed while reading this post alone. Have you ever noticed that random black spot a bit below the parachute picture? [it's hidden by the picture. keep looking when i post later on] Did you ever try to scratch it off, thinking it was a smudge on your screen? Did you ever notice how the shade of the binder paper picture my post is on gets darker and darker as you go more to the right?
See what I mean?
Nowadays, I'm scared to let go of the most minute detail. I want to see it all! I want to examine it all, to smile at its singularity. Each detail is different as a snowflake. You'll never come across the same detail again!
I went to Blackberry Farm yesterday with my bro. I took my handy dandy cell phone along. And with my photographic brain, I found the perfect shots ever. Walking down these steps, I found a cement pathway, lined with lush and inviting weeds. Who said all weeds were ugly? And on our way back, walking up the steps, I saw my own shadow, against the ridges of the steps. Click. An original moment was preserved.
Some pictures that I see in my mind that I like include a path that looks rough, yet is lined by inviting blades of grass, a single person sitting on a rock staring out into a creek, and my foot on the ground: on a rock, a tiled floor, grass. These are all situations I find myself in that I want to capture, so they don't fade away in a second. I know that details are so temporary, but maybe that's why I like photography: I can extend the life of something that would be forgotten in a second. The shape of a dead frond on the tambark of a playstructure, the moss rippling on a rock in the creek where my foot laid, a highlighter lying outside of its green pouch.
Photography helps me escape from my troubles. I get to search for details, keep my brain occupied.
Yesterday and the day before, I was having a bit of a rough day. So me and my bro went to Blackberry, as I said before. We'd play badminton, then have a bite and go to the creek. My favorite rock is one that is slightly pointed. There's nothing unique about the rock except that there's always a line of wetness, in which a little moss is planted. I always sit on the pointy surface of the rock, letting my feet rest on the sloping side of the rock, toes skimming the surface of the creek. The water is cold, but I like it. My bro throws some rocks in the creek and I tell him to stop it. I don't know. It feels like with every rock thrown, nature winces. Every rock thrown at the creek is the equivalent of a paper cut. He didn't listen. He kept throwing it. Then I got crabby and told him to respect the creek.
Before that, a dude with a black cap and long black shorts sat near the rock we were currently on. We waited for him to go as we didn't really want to sit near him. We were eating some samosa that was left over from the bowling party. And we heard some shots being fired. We knew that dude was shooting stuff in the creek.
We never really SAW him shoot anything until he left. He shot some stuff into the creek from a distance away. My bro yelled at him, calling him a sucker. The dude let four more shots into the creek.
It was a scary moment. We didn't know the dude. He didn't know us. I was afraid that we could get followed and stuff. I think the only reason he didn't really do anything to us was that our dad was with us. Luckily he walked over to find us a few minutes ago.
I scolded my bro. Is is right to do something wrong to a wrongdoer? Remember to think before you speak.
He didn't seem sorry though. And now that I think about it, I'm proud of him for standing up to the dude. Yelling may not solve the problem, but I bet he made the dude feel at least a bit ashamed of himself. I'm proud of my bro for caring about the creek. I just wish we could have stopped him a different way.
It's sad to think that people want to destroy the creek. I love it, and so do these two little kids who sat with us. Their dad was yelling at them for getting too close to the water. Cute kids. They left crying. They wanted to stay.
I'm sure that most people, regardless of their appearance or personality are attracted to nature. MJ was. Gah, my foot's bleeding. How does that work? I didn't even cut myself... Okay, going to get a bandaid on this thing... Or not. Whatever, I'll live without a bandaid...
Anyways, nature is so soothing and comforting. I feel like nature is our mother. She can be nurturing, yet also can inflict pain on us when we do something bad. We are nature's children.
Whenever I feel restless and upset, my first instinct is to go to Blackberry. To the creek. I don't know why water helps me so much, but it's the only place where I can be myself. My fears are washed away there. It's just me and the water. Me and the water.
I tried to take a picture with my cell phone camera of the water. It was blurry, hazy. There are some great forces you can never capture. You can't take a picture of love, faith, or God. There are some things that are above details. Details are so limiting. Yet I love them for their triviality.
Things I'm grateful for:
-creeks
-bandaids
-yummy beans curry
-NTR [old telegu actor. only actor that I can tolerate]
-cameras [I don't actually have one. All I have is my cell phone camera, which is running out of storage. I really want to get one soon. xD]
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La plume sur le vent
Finally! Some time to myself!
I felt so happy after finishing Hiroshima. It was a great book; I'd recommend it to anyone interested in reading historical nonfiction. xD It may sound boring, but I love it.
Anyways, I was walking along after school with the Gal with the bleu umbrella. xD And guess what we saw? A feather in the wind!
It was so delicate, white, soft, and cuddly. I don't know how I felt that towards a feather, but I did. The feather was beautifully simple, yet small.
We watched it soar up, then stumble down to return once more to a point of exaltion. And then it fell. It was the only white in a bed of green grass and flowers.
Ever since 8th grade, I could relate my life to any random inanimate object I saw. I'd stand in the window on the second story of my house and just stare out at the street ahead.
The driveway in front of me was my life. I was maybe at the middle of the driveway, after starting out from the front doorstep of my house. I'd changed over the years, become more stubborn and foolish, the stupid teen I am today. But I didn't feel ready to get to the end of the driveway [end of high school]. I'd go to sleep, pressing the same question in my brain: Left or right? Left or right?
Another time for reflection that I usually had was in the switch from 3rd to 4th period. In walking from science to French, I'd always ponder the meaning of life. I'd always seem to settle that my purpose on Earth was to find out who I am.
When asked deep questions, I always had an answer in mind. I still do. But how can I learn when my brain's already full of stuff that I think is right? How will I ever find out what truth is?
Every teacher teaches us based on what they know. How do we know it's true? They may have a degree, being taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else. After you go down the list of all the teachers in the world, who is at the top? Can their lessons be accepted as true? Where does their knowledge come from? What is knowledge anyways? Is it science, english, math? What are we supposed to be learning in life?
That's something I don't have an answer for. And if you have an answer, then your brain is funked up 'cause that question is not in the scope of any average human brain. It takes a realized soul to answer that question. I hope to answer it one day.
This entry is all over the place. So let me tell you a story now; it's a story of a kid who didn't want to grow up. Can you guess who it is?
Anyways, me, my bro, and my dad were coming back from a great tabla concert by our family friend's guru, Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri. He was phenomenal! His fingers made magic on the tabla, and although the concert was hours long, we all enjoyed it immensely. [http://www.swapanchaudhuri.com/]It was Hindustani, by the way. Great stuff.
He had a great personality. Playfully asking why his son got the better mike [he was also playing], he made us all laugh. It was worth the wait to see his concert, which was at the Hindu Temple in Sunnyvale. He went so fast, his fingers were a blur. But the sound was amazing.
I'm going off topic now, but before I forget I MUST talk about artists. Artists are wonderful, expressive beings and I love them for what they do. There are some who are just out there, have a nice voice, and that is all well. But there are some who live in their art. Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri is one, as is my own music teacher, Jayashree Aunty. I love their work and enjoy listening to them in their concerts. But my uncle pointed out something; real artists aren't there for the applause, they're there for the art itself. My teacher, in a concert, seemed unconcerned about the applause. She didn't smile or anything; she just kept singing. That's Jayashree Aunty for you. Always dedicated to music, willing to support many budding artists. I should really be practicing more...
BACK TO THE STORY!!!
We came back and were parked at Safeway. My dad and bro went, and I chose to stay back in the car, alone.
At the time, I had turned 13 and was surprisingly feeling more like a kid than ever. I didn't feel responsible or anything. I was a little bouncy ball of fluff.
I sat in silence for a while, looking around. And then I saw, in a car in front of me a scene that changed my outlook of life. It was a little girl, in the front seat with her mother. They would talk for a bit, I saw the girl laugh with her pearly whites showing.
And it hit me then. Why was I pretending to be a child? I could never go back to the infantile pleasures of childhood. I could never relive it. My life was a cassette that was rolling on, but couldn't be rewound. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a teen and I'd have to accept it.
I did. But I never liked it. I'd be grumpy, have mood swings, be stupid and stubborn. I just want to be that kid again. I'd never question my parents. I'd be happy. I could talk to people without any awkward turtles. I could live that happy life again.
But did we get anything done in that life? Did we move forward at all? What was the point of running around, amusing ourselves? What are we supposed to be doing with our lives?
Okay. Now whatever you're doing, stop. Right now. Well, keep on reading and then stop. What good will that A you're trying to get in Bio do to you 20 years from now? Do you know why you're in school? Do you know that college isn't your life? Do you know that there is a life for you outside of school that isn't reliant on grades?
Think about that. It's really important that we all know that. Education is primarily for ensuring that people can do jobs to support the type of society we have today. That's it. School is not your life. Do not fall into that trap and find yourself overwhelmed. Take breaks and enjoy what you learn. Hakuna Matata. That's how I roll. So that's why I'm going to Pillsbury's concert in half an hour. CLASSICAL MUSIC! YAYAYAYAYY
Things i'm grateful for:
-Latin
-writing
-cooking
-art
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Walking on Sunshine
Haha, I got "Walking on Sunshine" stuck in my head. It's a nice tune though. Just like "We're no Strangers to Love." Rick roll!
I have no idea what to blog about today. Every time I want to blog, something gets in the way: a math test, X-raying, poetry project, decoding, whatever. But now I have a bit of free time, and am unsure how to use it. So I sit down, take the computer and start to type what you are reading now.
Yesterday, my parents dragged me to see a Telegu movie, "Namo Venkatesha." Having plans to finish a chunk of homework/project then, I was upset that my schedule was ruined and went to the movie sulking. It was by far one of the stupidest movies I've ever seen. I was the only one not looking at the screen.
I felt moody then, restless and grumpy. I'd start crying for no apparent reason and would then try to sleep, but fail as the movie blared on.
In one of those random dances, they showed a waterfall, and for the rest of the movie I was thinking about them. For the record, I love water. I love swimming, wading in creeks, standing under the rushing water of a waterfall, diving for shells in a lake. Water calms me. It soothes me. Once I'm in the water, it's hard to get out.
I started crying "happy tears" when thinking about waterfalls. I could close my eyes and flash back to the scene, about six months ago.
For the July 4th weekend, my family had a 4 day sleepover [weird, huh?] at friend's house in Modesto. We went to Yosemite, to Pinecrest lake, and to Raging Waters [I had some weird allergic reaction those 4 days, and kept getting these weird bumps on my arms... ANYWAYS XD]. The highlight was Yosemite, though.
We left the house at maybe 8-9 AM, packed in my dad's blue-gray SUV and went down the road to Yosemite. Windy roads, farms, and a Bachelor's Inn (which was met with 8 pairs of skeptical eyebrows) flashed through the slightly dusty windows. With my dad's fast driving [we egged him on to pass cars in front us], we reached Yosemite.
After some more driving, we stopped at a river bank to have lunch. It was lemon rice and some rice with yogurt, I remember. We ate from ziploc bags, then went to wade around in the shallow parts of the river. Canoes lazily drifted by, completing the peaceful theme.
My dad wanted to take us to Half Dome by car. The majority decided to go to a waterfall. There was Bridal Falls, which required some hiking, and some others which my mom couldn't walk to. Then we saw the sign for Yosemite Falls, a short distance away.
After some casual walking, we could see the waterfall from afar. It was a beauty, trickling down and softly falling on the rocks like milk. It looked gentle from a distance, but once we got closer, we were told a different story.
The base of the lower falls was surrounded by rocks, so we had to do a bit of climbing, which I loved. I had always liked to scramble around on the rocks of a creek, and this was quite similar. Wiggling my toes in my black flip flops, I set out with my dad, uncle, and brother to reach the bottom of the falls. My mom was too chicken to come at first, but followed later.
After a minor scrape on my knee and some other minor injuries, we stood directly at the bottom of the falls. I stood on the rock protruding just above the rushing water. And I stood there, relishing the wind, the mist on my face, the exhilaration of being a part of the waterfall. And for the while I stood there, I felt I belonged. For once, I knew where I could take refuge and escape from my confusions and doubts [and kim tests xP]. The waterfall.
My dad had to drag me back, and I followed unwillingly only after we got to sit on a rock, feet dangling into the water. The current was strong, yet strangely gentle. The water was raging, yet comforting. I'll never get the paradox of waterfalls.
I drank some water from the falls, and it tasted weird. It was tangy. And then I remembered something I read from my 7th grade science book about getting zoo-flagellates in your stomach [which causes hiker's disease. you're supposed to boil the water from a river before you drink it...]. But I was okie-dokie. We scrambled back, and had to leave. I looked back at the falls, and told my uncle that I didn't want to leave. I just wanted my waterfall.
But as with all good things, they just never seem to last. I had to leave my waterfall and come back to the friend's house.
Haha, but before that, we were waiting for my dad to get the car which he parked somewhere. Me, my bro, and his friend were bored and started waving at cars going by. We noticed three things:
1. Indians never waved
2. Whites were the ones who were waving
3. TRUCK DRIVERS ARE AWESOME. we waved to this dude in a truck, and he honked loudly at us. it was awesome.
And then my dad came. We were in a non pickup zone, and we even asked the lady there if it was. So what we did was run to the car, get in, and drive off. The lady yelled at us. When jumping into the backseat, I peeled some skin on a seat belt buckler thing. No blood though!
Gee, that was a big ramble. Anyways, I dream of going to Stevens Creek and just doing my homework there. I could dip my feet in the water, while sitting on a rock with my math homework. I love nature.
And surprisingly Michael Jackson did too. In choir, we were watching a video about his world tour. We saw a bunch of rehearsals and etc. There was thriller, beat it, and bad. It was awesome. But there was another song. about NATURE!
This was a twist I really didn't see coming. Mikey himself said that he adored nature, and respected it. It just goes to tell you that the mind is quick to judge people. ;[
Everyone can be kind and compassionate inside. You just have to open your eyes for a second and stop seeing their faults. There is a lot of love in this world. All you need to do is find it.
Things I'm grateful for:
-clouds (i was in the car, and i saw these beautiful clouds. some popped out and some were distant. it was 3D looking, instead of the flat blue sky. after a while blue gets boring...)
-rain (WATER!)
-waterfalls (durr)
-myself
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T'en fais pas.
Don't worry. Life can be tough at times, but with strength and faith we can pull through.
Was talking with my bro yesterday, and he wanted a blog. He can't even type really well, and I realized that if I did let him blog, he'd stay up all night at it. I love my bro. We don't fight much, it's just lazy wars [you get me a cup of water. why should i?]. But when we're not lazy warring we're chill.
It's weird that I can relate to my parents in parenting. When it's just me and my bro, it's like I'm the parent scolding him, giving him advice, telling him to go to bed, ignoring him when he bothered me during my homework and giving a crabby response. It's so weird.
Being a teen, I wish for two things: 1. to become younger. 2. to just get out of adolescence quickly. I do not like being a teen. You are depicted as moody, stubborn, and always questioning authority. I don't get it. Why do teens do that? Why can't we just be silent and listen to our parents? Why do we always need to rebel?
I don't know what I plan to do after high school. Or what college to go to. I think doing extracurriculars for college is overrated. It's not really going to do you any good later on. People should do an activity because they like it. I guess I've been doing that with my extracurriculars: music and debate.
I really don't like spreading myself out in many places at once. I like to take one thing at a time. Multitasking prevents you from doing both jobs well. And what's the rush? What will you do afterwards anyways?
I need to manage my time better. I've been staying off the computer as much as I can though! xD If there's one thing everyone should rebel against, it should be technology, except for maybe in hospitals. Computers, car, etc make us so lazy. I can't ever remember exerting myself over transportation.
Speaking of exertion, my mile time has gone from a 7:58 to a 8:30. I don't get why I can't run fast anymore! I want to, but once I start running, I feel like walking. I also do not want to take Dance next year. Dance is not what I do. I'd like to take Elect, but I don't know if I'm up to the runs they have. Ah well, I still have time to decide...
I'm off to Snoopy's house for w4p documentarying!
[Edit: Adding a blurb 'cause I feel like it.]
Guess what I'm describing. It's something that I love very much and also personifies me. This poem is what's been going through my mind for these past few years. Tell me what you think it is!
My life is renewed with water,
I am given new life by its soft touch.
All the days, I long for the crash of water upon myself.
Day and night are dull without water to revive me.
I throw a fit, a tantrum when being suppressed by iron,
yet I gradually change back to myself back.
Some may think me ugly,
some may tell me to change.
Some may tell me to be normal,
some may tell me to give in.
None can stop me from being myself;
I bow down to no other will than His own.
I am seen as a happy, bouncy individual
yet deep inside me,
I am hollow.
I know not any other feeling but emptiness.
I await some element to complete me,
to fill in my hollow inside.
I wait for water.
Things I'm grateful for:
-music
-wind
-rain
-bisibelebath YUM.
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After I saw this, I felt the need to post. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/8534040.stm
I am amazed at how much life a picture can capture. Half an hour ago, I went outside to mail a letter. I looked at a streak in the sky left by a plane, above a tree with some flies buzzing around it. I have never felt the need to take a picture so badly.
I walked to the mailbox at the end of my driveway, and I stared out into the lot in front of me. It was beautiful, green weeds closer to me were clear, but beyond the "No Trespassing" sign, there was a goldish-green field of fuzzy looking weeds. It was selective focus of nature. The world is just too perfect. There are so many details that I see that scream at me. And I look at my empty hands. I have no camera.
People tend to realize the value of something they don't have. When you have water, you take it for granted. When you don't, you know you're screwed. When you're deprived every cell in your being cries out for that thing. Right now, I am pining for a camera.
Everywhere I go I see things that I want to preserve. I was waiting for my mom to pick me up from debate today, and I found a tree stump, cleanly shaven, surrounded by fuzzy plants. I saw a big lampost with a rusty sign saying "Do not go over 15mph."
Today was the Course Info Fair. I went to math, science didn't learn anything I didn't know. But then I went to Photography. I fell in love with that room. Black and white stills were all over the wall, some framed, some not. There was a backdrop and that light bulb thing and a dark room! with swivel doors. They also had awesome foamy black computer chairs. The room was filled with people; I guess I'm not alone. I was there with DK and ED, and ED was hyperventilating over the prospect of taking the class. I went and asked the probablity of me getting into the class if I put it as 7th choice. The teacher said it wasn't very likely for me to get in, unless I put it as my 6th.
I trudged over to French to find out that if I put that as 7th then I probably wouldn't get it either. GREAT. Now I have to give up photo for an elective that I know I have to take. :[
My dad says I can take a DeAnza course, but that's not going to be the same. I just wanted to take the course as an elective in school. I just want to take pictures of the world I see.
In a book I read, the author was saying how a photographer tried to capture the image of a saint. Every time the picture was developed, the saint would be replaced with a bright white. I didn't really know what the author was trying to say about photography...I don't really want to take pictures of people. I just want to take pictures of the minute things I see. I just want a camera. That's it. That's it.
Things I'm grateful for:
-logs [yes, logs]
-photography
-plants
-airplanes
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une photo
It's been a while since I've been able to sit down and write, so here I am! xD
Last Thursday, in math we had to watch a chick flick, 500 days of summer. NEVER WATCH THAT MOVIE, YOU WILL BE SCARRED FOR LIFE. But no matter how bad a movie is, once I start, I need to know the ending. So I imdbed it and didn't like the ending either.
Coming out from that class, I felt super weird. I felt like my brain was replaced with a camera. I felt like a photographer, holding a video camera, recording everything in sight. I felt like I was out of the scene, sort of like a person who was invisible to all, yet watching, silently.
Ever since then, I found myself to be obsessed with photography. Everywhere I go, I can't help but try to notice the details that no one else does. On Friday, I went to a bowling party. Since no one of my age was there, I ended up silently watching everyone else. Call me a stalker if you like, but I noticed some interesting things.
There were 2 bowlers in a lane to our left: one girl, one guy. The girl had sweatpants from WHI high school. The guy wore a light blue t-shirt and when he bowled, it seemed like he dropped the ball on the lane, instead of rolling it. Maybe we're actually supposed to bowl like that... He did get a lot of strikes.
I saw that on the ground, there were alternating black, gray and white tiles. On the ceiling, fire sprinklers formed 2 lines which seemed to get closer and closer together, yet never meet. Like a hyperbola trying to touch the x-axis.
The ceiling was also spotted with purple rectangles, UV light. All white stuff glowed. The bleu on my shirt, my shoelaces, my socks, they all turned a bright white color.
I put my bright red, blue, and white shoe on a black tile and admired it. At the time, I found minute details that I felt would be perfect in a photo. I was thinking like a photographer, and when my eyelids blinked, a shot would be taken. I made a hand frame and took a few pictures of a silver tray and pretzels.
Photography has always interested me, now more than ever. Photography is a way to bring back memories, to capture the beauty of the world, to see what is hidden in what we always see.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kDQY_oHN1s watch it
Check it out. It's so true, we always miss what we're not looking for. Just think of how many details you've missed while reading this post alone. Have you ever noticed that random black spot a bit below the parachute picture? [it's hidden by the picture. keep looking when i post later on] Did you ever try to scratch it off, thinking it was a smudge on your screen? Did you ever notice how the shade of the binder paper picture my post is on gets darker and darker as you go more to the right?
See what I mean?
Nowadays, I'm scared to let go of the most minute detail. I want to see it all! I want to examine it all, to smile at its singularity. Each detail is different as a snowflake. You'll never come across the same detail again!
I went to Blackberry Farm yesterday with my bro. I took my handy dandy cell phone along. And with my photographic brain, I found the perfect shots ever. Walking down these steps, I found a cement pathway, lined with lush and inviting weeds. Who said all weeds were ugly? And on our way back, walking up the steps, I saw my own shadow, against the ridges of the steps. Click. An original moment was preserved.
Some pictures that I see in my mind that I like include a path that looks rough, yet is lined by inviting blades of grass, a single person sitting on a rock staring out into a creek, and my foot on the ground: on a rock, a tiled floor, grass. These are all situations I find myself in that I want to capture, so they don't fade away in a second. I know that details are so temporary, but maybe that's why I like photography: I can extend the life of something that would be forgotten in a second. The shape of a dead frond on the tambark of a playstructure, the moss rippling on a rock in the creek where my foot laid, a highlighter lying outside of its green pouch.
Photography helps me escape from my troubles. I get to search for details, keep my brain occupied.
Yesterday and the day before, I was having a bit of a rough day. So me and my bro went to Blackberry, as I said before. We'd play badminton, then have a bite and go to the creek. My favorite rock is one that is slightly pointed. There's nothing unique about the rock except that there's always a line of wetness, in which a little moss is planted. I always sit on the pointy surface of the rock, letting my feet rest on the sloping side of the rock, toes skimming the surface of the creek. The water is cold, but I like it. My bro throws some rocks in the creek and I tell him to stop it. I don't know. It feels like with every rock thrown, nature winces. Every rock thrown at the creek is the equivalent of a paper cut. He didn't listen. He kept throwing it. Then I got crabby and told him to respect the creek.
Before that, a dude with a black cap and long black shorts sat near the rock we were currently on. We waited for him to go as we didn't really want to sit near him. We were eating some samosa that was left over from the bowling party. And we heard some shots being fired. We knew that dude was shooting stuff in the creek.
We never really SAW him shoot anything until he left. He shot some stuff into the creek from a distance away. My bro yelled at him, calling him a sucker. The dude let four more shots into the creek.
It was a scary moment. We didn't know the dude. He didn't know us. I was afraid that we could get followed and stuff. I think the only reason he didn't really do anything to us was that our dad was with us. Luckily he walked over to find us a few minutes ago.
I scolded my bro. Is is right to do something wrong to a wrongdoer? Remember to think before you speak.
He didn't seem sorry though. And now that I think about it, I'm proud of him for standing up to the dude. Yelling may not solve the problem, but I bet he made the dude feel at least a bit ashamed of himself. I'm proud of my bro for caring about the creek. I just wish we could have stopped him a different way.
It's sad to think that people want to destroy the creek. I love it, and so do these two little kids who sat with us. Their dad was yelling at them for getting too close to the water. Cute kids. They left crying. They wanted to stay.
I'm sure that most people, regardless of their appearance or personality are attracted to nature. MJ was. Gah, my foot's bleeding. How does that work? I didn't even cut myself... Okay, going to get a bandaid on this thing... Or not. Whatever, I'll live without a bandaid...
Anyways, nature is so soothing and comforting. I feel like nature is our mother. She can be nurturing, yet also can inflict pain on us when we do something bad. We are nature's children.
Whenever I feel restless and upset, my first instinct is to go to Blackberry. To the creek. I don't know why water helps me so much, but it's the only place where I can be myself. My fears are washed away there. It's just me and the water. Me and the water.
I tried to take a picture with my cell phone camera of the water. It was blurry, hazy. There are some great forces you can never capture. You can't take a picture of love, faith, or God. There are some things that are above details. Details are so limiting. Yet I love them for their triviality.
Things I'm grateful for:
-creeks
-bandaids
-yummy beans curry
-NTR [old telegu actor. only actor that I can tolerate]
-cameras [I don't actually have one. All I have is my cell phone camera, which is running out of storage. I really want to get one soon. xD]
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La plume sur le vent
Finally! Some time to myself!
I felt so happy after finishing Hiroshima. It was a great book; I'd recommend it to anyone interested in reading historical nonfiction. xD It may sound boring, but I love it.
Anyways, I was walking along after school with the Gal with the bleu umbrella. xD And guess what we saw? A feather in the wind!
It was so delicate, white, soft, and cuddly. I don't know how I felt that towards a feather, but I did. The feather was beautifully simple, yet small.
We watched it soar up, then stumble down to return once more to a point of exaltion. And then it fell. It was the only white in a bed of green grass and flowers.
Ever since 8th grade, I could relate my life to any random inanimate object I saw. I'd stand in the window on the second story of my house and just stare out at the street ahead.
The driveway in front of me was my life. I was maybe at the middle of the driveway, after starting out from the front doorstep of my house. I'd changed over the years, become more stubborn and foolish, the stupid teen I am today. But I didn't feel ready to get to the end of the driveway [end of high school]. I'd go to sleep, pressing the same question in my brain: Left or right? Left or right?
Another time for reflection that I usually had was in the switch from 3rd to 4th period. In walking from science to French, I'd always ponder the meaning of life. I'd always seem to settle that my purpose on Earth was to find out who I am.
When asked deep questions, I always had an answer in mind. I still do. But how can I learn when my brain's already full of stuff that I think is right? How will I ever find out what truth is?
Every teacher teaches us based on what they know. How do we know it's true? They may have a degree, being taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else, who was taught by someone else. After you go down the list of all the teachers in the world, who is at the top? Can their lessons be accepted as true? Where does their knowledge come from? What is knowledge anyways? Is it science, english, math? What are we supposed to be learning in life?
That's something I don't have an answer for. And if you have an answer, then your brain is funked up 'cause that question is not in the scope of any average human brain. It takes a realized soul to answer that question. I hope to answer it one day.
This entry is all over the place. So let me tell you a story now; it's a story of a kid who didn't want to grow up. Can you guess who it is?
Anyways, me, my bro, and my dad were coming back from a great tabla concert by our family friend's guru, Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri. He was phenomenal! His fingers made magic on the tabla, and although the concert was hours long, we all enjoyed it immensely. [http://www.swapanchaudhuri.com/]It was Hindustani, by the way. Great stuff.
He had a great personality. Playfully asking why his son got the better mike [he was also playing], he made us all laugh. It was worth the wait to see his concert, which was at the Hindu Temple in Sunnyvale. He went so fast, his fingers were a blur. But the sound was amazing.
I'm going off topic now, but before I forget I MUST talk about artists. Artists are wonderful, expressive beings and I love them for what they do. There are some who are just out there, have a nice voice, and that is all well. But there are some who live in their art. Pandit Swapan Chaudhuri is one, as is my own music teacher, Jayashree Aunty. I love their work and enjoy listening to them in their concerts. But my uncle pointed out something; real artists aren't there for the applause, they're there for the art itself. My teacher, in a concert, seemed unconcerned about the applause. She didn't smile or anything; she just kept singing. That's Jayashree Aunty for you. Always dedicated to music, willing to support many budding artists. I should really be practicing more...
BACK TO THE STORY!!!
We came back and were parked at Safeway. My dad and bro went, and I chose to stay back in the car, alone.
At the time, I had turned 13 and was surprisingly feeling more like a kid than ever. I didn't feel responsible or anything. I was a little bouncy ball of fluff.
I sat in silence for a while, looking around. And then I saw, in a car in front of me a scene that changed my outlook of life. It was a little girl, in the front seat with her mother. They would talk for a bit, I saw the girl laugh with her pearly whites showing.
And it hit me then. Why was I pretending to be a child? I could never go back to the infantile pleasures of childhood. I could never relive it. My life was a cassette that was rolling on, but couldn't be rewound. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was a teen and I'd have to accept it.
I did. But I never liked it. I'd be grumpy, have mood swings, be stupid and stubborn. I just want to be that kid again. I'd never question my parents. I'd be happy. I could talk to people without any awkward turtles. I could live that happy life again.
But did we get anything done in that life? Did we move forward at all? What was the point of running around, amusing ourselves? What are we supposed to be doing with our lives?
Okay. Now whatever you're doing, stop. Right now. Well, keep on reading and then stop. What good will that A you're trying to get in Bio do to you 20 years from now? Do you know why you're in school? Do you know that college isn't your life? Do you know that there is a life for you outside of school that isn't reliant on grades?
Think about that. It's really important that we all know that. Education is primarily for ensuring that people can do jobs to support the type of society we have today. That's it. School is not your life. Do not fall into that trap and find yourself overwhelmed. Take breaks and enjoy what you learn. Hakuna Matata. That's how I roll. So that's why I'm going to Pillsbury's concert in half an hour. CLASSICAL MUSIC! YAYAYAYAYY
Things i'm grateful for:
-Latin
-writing
-cooking
-art
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Walking on Sunshine
Haha, I got "Walking on Sunshine" stuck in my head. It's a nice tune though. Just like "We're no Strangers to Love." Rick roll!
I have no idea what to blog about today. Every time I want to blog, something gets in the way: a math test, X-raying, poetry project, decoding, whatever. But now I have a bit of free time, and am unsure how to use it. So I sit down, take the computer and start to type what you are reading now.
Yesterday, my parents dragged me to see a Telegu movie, "Namo Venkatesha." Having plans to finish a chunk of homework/project then, I was upset that my schedule was ruined and went to the movie sulking. It was by far one of the stupidest movies I've ever seen. I was the only one not looking at the screen.
I felt moody then, restless and grumpy. I'd start crying for no apparent reason and would then try to sleep, but fail as the movie blared on.
In one of those random dances, they showed a waterfall, and for the rest of the movie I was thinking about them. For the record, I love water. I love swimming, wading in creeks, standing under the rushing water of a waterfall, diving for shells in a lake. Water calms me. It soothes me. Once I'm in the water, it's hard to get out.
I started crying "happy tears" when thinking about waterfalls. I could close my eyes and flash back to the scene, about six months ago.
For the July 4th weekend, my family had a 4 day sleepover [weird, huh?] at friend's house in Modesto. We went to Yosemite, to Pinecrest lake, and to Raging Waters [I had some weird allergic reaction those 4 days, and kept getting these weird bumps on my arms... ANYWAYS XD]. The highlight was Yosemite, though.
We left the house at maybe 8-9 AM, packed in my dad's blue-gray SUV and went down the road to Yosemite. Windy roads, farms, and a Bachelor's Inn (which was met with 8 pairs of skeptical eyebrows) flashed through the slightly dusty windows. With my dad's fast driving [we egged him on to pass cars in front us], we reached Yosemite.
After some more driving, we stopped at a river bank to have lunch. It was lemon rice and some rice with yogurt, I remember. We ate from ziploc bags, then went to wade around in the shallow parts of the river. Canoes lazily drifted by, completing the peaceful theme.
My dad wanted to take us to Half Dome by car. The majority decided to go to a waterfall. There was Bridal Falls, which required some hiking, and some others which my mom couldn't walk to. Then we saw the sign for Yosemite Falls, a short distance away.
After some casual walking, we could see the waterfall from afar. It was a beauty, trickling down and softly falling on the rocks like milk. It looked gentle from a distance, but once we got closer, we were told a different story.
The base of the lower falls was surrounded by rocks, so we had to do a bit of climbing, which I loved. I had always liked to scramble around on the rocks of a creek, and this was quite similar. Wiggling my toes in my black flip flops, I set out with my dad, uncle, and brother to reach the bottom of the falls. My mom was too chicken to come at first, but followed later.
After a minor scrape on my knee and some other minor injuries, we stood directly at the bottom of the falls. I stood on the rock protruding just above the rushing water. And I stood there, relishing the wind, the mist on my face, the exhilaration of being a part of the waterfall. And for the while I stood there, I felt I belonged. For once, I knew where I could take refuge and escape from my confusions and doubts [and kim tests xP]. The waterfall.
My dad had to drag me back, and I followed unwillingly only after we got to sit on a rock, feet dangling into the water. The current was strong, yet strangely gentle. The water was raging, yet comforting. I'll never get the paradox of waterfalls.
I drank some water from the falls, and it tasted weird. It was tangy. And then I remembered something I read from my 7th grade science book about getting zoo-flagellates in your stomach [which causes hiker's disease. you're supposed to boil the water from a river before you drink it...]. But I was okie-dokie. We scrambled back, and had to leave. I looked back at the falls, and told my uncle that I didn't want to leave. I just wanted my waterfall.
But as with all good things, they just never seem to last. I had to leave my waterfall and come back to the friend's house.
Haha, but before that, we were waiting for my dad to get the car which he parked somewhere. Me, my bro, and his friend were bored and started waving at cars going by. We noticed three things:
1. Indians never waved
2. Whites were the ones who were waving
3. TRUCK DRIVERS ARE AWESOME. we waved to this dude in a truck, and he honked loudly at us. it was awesome.
And then my dad came. We were in a non pickup zone, and we even asked the lady there if it was. So what we did was run to the car, get in, and drive off. The lady yelled at us. When jumping into the backseat, I peeled some skin on a seat belt buckler thing. No blood though!
Gee, that was a big ramble. Anyways, I dream of going to Stevens Creek and just doing my homework there. I could dip my feet in the water, while sitting on a rock with my math homework. I love nature.
And surprisingly Michael Jackson did too. In choir, we were watching a video about his world tour. We saw a bunch of rehearsals and etc. There was thriller, beat it, and bad. It was awesome. But there was another song. about NATURE!
This was a twist I really didn't see coming. Mikey himself said that he adored nature, and respected it. It just goes to tell you that the mind is quick to judge people. ;[
Everyone can be kind and compassionate inside. You just have to open your eyes for a second and stop seeing their faults. There is a lot of love in this world. All you need to do is find it.
Things I'm grateful for:
-clouds (i was in the car, and i saw these beautiful clouds. some popped out and some were distant. it was 3D looking, instead of the flat blue sky. after a while blue gets boring...)
-rain (WATER!)
-waterfalls (durr)
-myself
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