Progress

4:26 am. Got out of bed.

Feeling really low again. Envy at my sister's good fortune and new friends. She is getting ahead, she is in a good place- but we are not and I am definitely not. Everything in her life presently makes her happy except me. She never trusted me because I dated G. Now I don't trust her either. I don't want anything from her. I finished the story. She didn't edit. She hasn't offered me anything from her end. "Jotted down some notes" is all she said. She did that in college with all her professors, and got As. It isn't fair. See, she does things whenever she feels like it and IF. And she doesn't trust me? I stopped asking her to do anything. If she wants to she can. I did my part.

I don't know where my life is taking me. I am working ******* little ropes that come at my direction-- but I am not even sure if they are worthwhile endeavors and if they will turn into anything. I just know I have nothing else.

I consider contacting my ex, F. Why him? He's the only one messed up like me. L is married with a beautiful baby and that woman he left me for, G is probably already married by now to that other stunning girl. But F will always be alone.

He doesn't want me. Why should I contact him? I had told myself I won't contact him until I at least got a full time job. He's an Ivy League P.H.D scientist at Penn researching the brain, traveling, making intelligent beautiful friends, and doing triathlons successfully (of course the smart ones are successful at many things). However, he still has trouble finding the "one". He's ******* 37. No one is ever good enough for him. I wasn't good enough for him. *******. He's broken like me. No, he ignored me. I won't contact him. ******* can contact me if he wants to.

I realized I have no friends. None at all. I used to think I had so many friends. Mostly men that just follow me around for a while and then leave me when they realize they aint getting this *****.

There's K, but he's J's ex's friend- so our friendship is limited. There's my sis S, who I meet once every other month, but she doesn't always respond to messages (and I rarely text her anyway). There's Je- she and I meet twice a year and we don't really connect anyway. She has other best friends and I am not really in that circle.

Cas- she is academically successful(valedictorian) and has a job, but frankly she is a bit slow. Can't explain it. Plus she bailed at me about the apartment thing and strangely she doesn't like me to meet her other friends in intimate settings, she just likes meeting people one by one. Like she's met my friends and got some of their numbers, but for some reason has never provided me an opportunity to meet hers. Maybe she feels awkward introducing me since she and I met online? Since she's not philosophical or an intellectual, I don't understand the point of meeting more than once a month if it's just me and her. I like her, but she always seems high without actually being high. I feel like I have to go out of the to meet her, but she doesn't have any energy at all.

Ro- the verbally abusive drunk? Let's face it. It's a mutually beneficial- two lonely people who have no friendship compatibility uplift each other relationship- but he's actually of the the more interesting to talk to people . Then there is Chr who just flirts all the time and fights. I swear his ex wife drilled some holes into his brain. He's just rude. He acts nice, but he's ******* nuts inside. Then there are those occasional people that text you Happy New Year. When I was in a relationship, I was so consumed by it that not having friends didn't matter. I have no friends. I am completely alone. Always have been. In law school, in elementary school, in middle school- I was always the only one who sat alone.

I like sad music. I just listened to the Hollywood version of Les Miserables- one of my favorite all time literary pieces and the beautiful Selena Gomez' new single Heart Wants What it Wants. I love to hear singing melodically, softly, simply of their pain. Every single singer in that musical has a painful story. The innkeepers in their desperation, Javert, of course Fantine, Jean Valjean, and the most relatable Eponine. And the sound of the violin. And the harp.

5:13 am. Let's talk progress.

Today I finally had the trial tutoring session. It was Algebra 2. The girl who is my tutee, she is sweet and extremely hard working. As and Bs in Algebra 2 weren't enough for her. I prepared extensively. My own Algebra 2 teacher was terrible in high school. He flirted with the pretty girls and bragged about himself. I got As for nothing. We spent most of the semesters on the same one or two chapters. I've always wanted to good at everything, to redo and master everything. Maybe this is my chance to become good at everything I **** at.

I am teaching myself before I teach her. I am supposed to be proficient. I had to begin on a surface level pace today. She and her mother both seemed happy. I touched on all her first semester topics. Next week is the second trial session. I will learn more and teach her in depth. If all goes well, she will end up being my client and I will be assigned more tutees. If only I could make a full time job out of this- I totally would. Each session pays well. Of course, the first two sessions I give are complimentary. After that.

This is a gamble. If I don't get enough clients- I will still have to manage the ones I have, invest a lot of time into studying for assignments, and then still make enough money to qualify as full time- then I will be scrambling. I can't imagine possibly getting between 6-8 hours of tutoring every day, since most people get out of work after 5pm and I have to travel around for sessions. I hope it's possible. I would work very hard.

My plan is to ace this Algebra 2 tutee preparation. I have a week to make myself more of an expert.

I have to go to more networking events. Sign up for Asian Film Festival & World Affairs. Meet people. Get connected. Make friends.

Keep reading current events, legal issues, technological advancements, and foreign news.

Re-reading my previously written Step 1- Embodying Positively helped me by reminding me to trudge forward and remain strong and positive, for both my own sake and the sake of the people in the world.

6:02 am.

I am going to do a second 5k this December. My first one ever was last month. Second one in December will be progress. I've got to start practicing again.

I gave up sugar instead of meat for Advent. I felt it was much harder, but more rewarding. Today is my third day of the no sweets diet. I did have sweet iced tea and a pretzel with sweet cream cheese, but I will stop those too. I might allow myself to have just one iced tea a week- moderation is more effective than going cold turkey and messing up. This is a huge accomplishment as I am a sugar addict. I look pretty fit, except a little tummy that goes up and down and only noticed by closest family members and friends.

I need to be fit for my health, to be the best I can be, to be fit, for a future potential job in the FBI or PO.  I only get up once a night to *** now. Some nights I used to *** 6 times a day. Is that an indicator of future diabetes or what? Consuming a lot of sugar can lead to a lot of internal diseases including infertility and cancer. If I can give up sugar for one month, I may try to keep doing it. Wow.

6:27 am. Go to sleep, T. Good night moon. Good night stars. Good night Mercury. Good night everyone.

.........

12/16/2014

Went to an Asian Law Society event last week. Made a couple friends, excited to be a member and get involved. Also met a guy, hope he's Catholic so my parents will accept the relationship if I decide to go out with him. He's emotional, Korean American, and verbal- a Gemini. Interesting but probably just as crazy as me. I am looking forward to getting to know him.

Just finished my weekly career discussion group, this is my second week in attendance. I was about to give up on the group, but John one of the members, who is a runner (and I think out of work firefighter), reached out to help me by emailing my resume around to different people he knows. He's the reason I decided to keep coming until I find a job. We shall see what happens. I have a tendency to jump around to things and not see them to fruition, but I am working on developing strong skills.

Today, I am feeling grateful. I live in a generation in which globalization is both a positive and negative thing. However, today I feel positive despite all the problems. There are so many opportunities, and I just have to figure out to unlock the how.

His lips moved closer to hers. His eyes begged, "I need you."

She backed away cautiously. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him. He never said a word but looked at her as if with tenderness. With his chest against her body, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her slowly. She stood frozen for the longest minute, before surrendering. She kissed him back, longing flooding her. He told her he had been hurt, and she took him into her embrace and cradled him.

He had arrived one night as she was walking by herself on the beach. She had almost stopped searching. He seemed to be just like her: agitated, sad, pathetic. She hid her own loneliness well, but his was written all over his face.

When she found him, broken and washed upon the shore, she did not realize he would leech onto to her foot. She felt herself drifting into the water, water almost up to her neck - his hand leading the way, but she did not realize that he would leave her there. Suddenly, the water filled her nostrils and her lungs and she was drowning. He was nowhere to be seen.

She looked for him, desperation flooding her stomach, her chest overflowing with sorrow- more so than the water filling her lungs. She searched for him frantically. She could not understand that he was gone.

She felt sadness overcoming her, and she struggled to keep her head up. It engulfed her as she collapsed into the abyss. She sunk to the very bottom, sea creatures passing by her as she sunk. She lay on the bottom of the ocean, but she could not stand up, nor could she breathe, nor could she die.

She stayed their for the longest time, clutching her heart and her stomach, as if she would throw up her insides if she didn't hold them in. She cried, but no one noticed in the deep waters of the ocean. She wanted someone to save her, but no one noticed as she put up her hand. She wanted to die, but even death did not pity her.

After a long time, the water parted and dried up slowly. The animals left, following the tide into the deep ocean and so did the plants. She lay there on sand, her hand cradling her stomach, while the moon watched over her. Soon the moon also left her, and she was alone.

There was no sun, no moon, no stars. Nothing shone. In the darkness, she still lay, unable to get up. All of her strength and stubbornness willed her to keep trying to stand, but it was as if she had polio: she could not move.

At last one day, she slowly sat up. She looked ahead and saw the water which had once engulfed her at a distance. It left her alive, as if she was not even worth killing. She stared at it for a long time, her eyes sadly missing him. One day she found the strength to stand up. She stood there, naked, her clothes ripped from her body, as if emotionally ***** and ******* over and again in her life.

She had not planned to trust again, but when she found him she thought she had found another side of herself. Little did she know that he used her and left when he realized that she was not what he wanted. He wanted to master her, to win her-- and when she finally succomed, he realized that he wanted something better-- which she could not provide.
                                       _________

I close my eyes, the heavy comforter draped around me  so securely I might as well be in your embrace. You hold me tight, gather your arms around my waist. You apologize for making the mistake of ending what we had. You tell me you realized that you are madly in love with me, that we must find a way to be together.  You squeeze me so tight, and I wrap my arms around you and we lay there.

This dream can only last a minute, each time shorter and shorter as reality floods through me. Slowly, you slip out of my arms. You're laughing in the night air, kissing new girls. They are laying in your bed, cradling you as you tell them you need them. You lay against the warmth of their *******, while they nurture you. They take you inside them as you lie there like a small, whimpering child that needs to be taken care of. Night after night, there is new laughter in the air- each woman you meet becomes your shield, your protector, your mother. You **** them with your small *****. You tell them ***** thoughts and they respond with the ones you want to hear. You are no longer mine- you never were. You just needed to be taken care of for a night when you were lonely, you needed to be cradled and I- like a fool, found the motherly side in me and took you to my breast. When morning came, you awoke in another bed, on another breast, and you no longer needed me. Confused and abandoned, I searched for you and found you laughing in the night air, another Scarlet Johansson or Marilyn Monroe taking you in for the evening.

What do we all look for in life? Lau once posted this by Chitrabanu:

"We need love. It is the food of the soul, we cannot live without it. Love is not planning, it is not remembering. It exists only in the present moment. In love, there is no desire to hold, possess, or bind. To hold on to someone or something else is to disconnect from oneself. In disconnecting from yourself, you disconnect from the present moment, because your energy is used on the future. In this way, the experience of life, of love is slipping through your fingers. When you begin to see this very subtle point, you come to know that love has nothing to do with the past or the future.

Love is to just be. It means to be in communion. You can be in communion with any being that communicates and builds some kind of feeling and harmony with you. You can be in love with a plant, a child, an animal, a grandmother, a villager, a simpleton. It is possessing nothing, only being present in that moment, feeling and communicating with life in different forms.

In the same way, you experience this unconditional love with your own Self. You are in tune with yourself. When a person is in love, he does not hold anything back. He pours all his treasure without reserve. He does not say, "If I keep it, it will be useful one day." No, he says, "Here is the day, let me live it." You create this experience each day and turn it into your life style. In this way, you will no longer sadden your day with future thoughts and worries. Your living will be here and now with love."

Here is another by Tom Robbins, "When we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we're still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. This can go on and on--series polygamy--until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter.”

All true, wise words. When I went through what I went through as a child, I always hoped for better things in life. In college, my girlfriends and I comforted each other by saying that one day we will be this or that. We never realized that hope- is just that. Nothing more. While you have have a great inner strength that is capable of challenging even gravity, while you can push your limits and change and adapt yourself in ways you never thought possible-- some things are just given to you sheer luck, or some may even say God's blessing. No matter if you can change the air the wind blows and the tide-- there are still some things which must be granted to you by the mercy and grace of the universe- and if you are not in the lucky 20% of the world, you will not get it. We all have a quest. We seek to fulfill ourselves through the spark and comfort of a special stranger. We long for that understanding person to finally enter our lives and to endure the world with us together.

I wanted him to understand me. I thought because he was broken like me- he would understand me. First he told me that I was not like him, that I was not philosophical enough- that I was too simple. I quickly attempted to show him the deeper recesses of myself. He was not a camel that could be led. What he saw frightened him, he refused to see. He left.

We all think we want someone that understands us. Then I realized that no one could understand me, if I did not first understand myself. Perhaps it is not understanding that we need-- perhaps we need someone that we are mutually attracted to, to consider us important enough to be patient with us. Once during an interview, Justin Timberlake said to Ellen about Jessica Biel, "Sometimes I stare at her when she is unaware. This is when she is the most beautiful-- when she is unguarded, un-noticing, just carrying about her day and I observe small things about her."

I don't need someone to understand me. It's not possible. I don't want someone to come to conclusions about what I am-- even I don't know myself fully and I am constantly being shaped by situations that I encounter. What I want is a person who is awesome enough to be gentle- to watch without making observations-- without needing to relate opinions, instead simply to care enough to just watch. And if we don't agree upon something-- to love me enough to compromise. To be gentle enough to pull me into his warmth and keep me secure. To be man enough to bring out the woman in me.

As an independant strong victim of the scars of life, I tend to combat everything myself. It would be wonderful to fall into the embrace of a man who can take care of me. I want someone who never gives up on me-- who finds me worthy enough to teach me and reconsider me. I want a man who doesn't need me-- but wants me more for what good he has learned about me. I want a man who is so secure in himself, that once he has loved me, he doesn't question greener-seeming pastures. My heart aches, and I am lonely. As easy as it is to fall into the arms of the wrong guy, my heart is worth enough and I am deserving enough to face the quest alone until the prize is won.

Many times I have met men who seem so much like the right key-- who fit into lock, but these keys have never turned and opened. I want the one who is meant for me. For him I will wait.

I remember being a hormonal teenager, screaming at my mother, "I HATE YOU!"

The first time she let it go. Man, how that woman infuriated me. She was stubborn for no logical reason.

The next time I screamed it, she screamed back at me, "NO YOU DON'T!"

"YES I DO!"

"No you don't, you just think you do," she looked smug.

" I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!!!," I ran up the stairs fearing what she would do next.

"T- COME BACK DOWN HERE! TELL ME YOU DON'T HATE ME!"

"I HATE YOU!" Slam.

It is a rather funny story. The only girl raised among three boys, I was subject to torture from my three brothers and my mother. Nothing was fair. There were bad times in my childhood, and good times. Even though I was very talkative as a young person, I never would express my deepest feelings or pains to anyone. I kept silent about the things I had gone through, not even my own mother did I trust with my valuable information. They took me for granted, a bit. Once, when I couldn't take it any more I woke up in the middle of the night, and I stood on a roof, and seriously contemplated suicide for 20 minutes before heading back to sleep. I didn't have anything or anyone then, but I knew there was a world out there that was amazing. I had never experienced happiness from the outside world, and I was determined to experience it first.

I didn't know why I didn't have anyone to confide in. Why things had happened to me that I couldn't tell anyone. For the most part, I was known for speaking before thinking, and speaking a lot. But when it came to painful things, I never told a soul. I thought about it often, and still think about it today-- why don't I get it off my chest. But I still know why. No good can come from it. Only selfish temporary gain.

There were times as a teenager I cut my wrists or took speed or did stupid things to fit in. I wanted change, and I wanted it immediately. I wanted my life to be perfect. I never once doubted that something good wouldn't happen to me worth living for. I guess that is why I didn't cut deep enough, and why I never jumped off that roof. Although I was alone, I knew one day I wouldn't be.

It is strange to think almost ten years later, loved by many-- I still feel alone. I guess that is what they refer to as that complex we have as humans- partly that existentialist theory.

One day, I made a list of things I want to do before I die. I know I will never have guts to jump off a bridge no matter how many times I think about it-- because I always feel like there there is some hope left out there. I told myself, I am going to make this crazy list of things to do, and only after doing all these crazy things will I **** myself- if I determine that it is worth doing. I can always add new things to the list, or cross things off the list once I completed them-- but I can't take anything off the list until I've done it. What a fun game. I am deathly afraid of heights. I hate roller coasters. I am afraid of the dark, and I believe in ghosts. I am claustrophobic and afraid of being buried alive. On my list I have written among other things-- kiss a guy under the stars, make out in a graveyard, have pre-marital ***, try ****, smoke a cigar, get crazy drunk, go sky diving, learn to surf, learn belly dancing, get a black belt, ride the world's craziest roller coaster, learn a tribal dance in Africa, fast for a month with Jain monks, visit three countries from every continent, eat snake soup, eat crocodile meat (because I am scared of anything that can eat me!), visit the wall of China, graffiti, have a three some with two very hot guys, completely learn to let go for 24 hours and do anything I think about with no inhibitions, learn 2 new languages. I've already crossed off some of the things on this list!

It is a very fun list of things to do-- and some of these things I don't know if I could ever do-- like a three some, or eating snake soup! But, until I do everything on this list, I won't think about suicide. I figure if any of the above kills me-- that is up to fate, but at least I determined my own fate and took a risk before I died. Maybe I am a coward. Maybe I am pathetic and too scared to **** myself. You are right! It might be my Christian upbringing that says suicide is a mortal sin that will banish my soul forever. As I got older, I decided that the soul never dies-- so even if I end my body-- what if my soul passes off into another life with more suffering? It is better to use this body I have in this world and make the best use of it. No one else loves me the way I love myself. Not even my own mother can. I think that is why we are all self-centered and even think of committing suicide. We can't live inside our own head, and we want someone else to take our pain away. But we just have to learn to face life!

I sometimes wish I was more like J. The whole world helps support her, feels sorry for her. She can cry. She can convince people to think what she wants them to think. She holds an enormous amount of power. She convinces people that she is delicate and they do things for her- like D helping her with the FBI job and her professor practically re-writing her Fulbright essay in an intellectual way. Her writing just isn't as organized, but she seeks help and people want to help her.

Me on the other hand-- I do more for people. When I ask them for help, they aren't really useful. I don't know how to talk to the right type of people or how to get ahead. I always knew that J would thrive with just the right opportunities- because she is highly capable.

I just don't do things well enough. Grades ******. Professors don't know and don't care about me. People think I am intense and pushy and controlling. She is all these things to me, and she sometimes makes me intense, but then to the outside world she is sweet and delicate.

Men are attracted because of the way I look, which is pretty but not stunning or gorgeous. In the end, they always leave me for someone more attractive and more chill.

J's ex however thought she was the ideal woman even after they broke up. He wanted to get back with her but did not. It kind of hurt me to hear that because now I know why he kept emailing her after they broke up- he actually was in love with her. She mattered. She was sweet and cultured and delicate.

The guys who left me, left in a heartbeat. They stayed for a while, chasing my tail. Then suddenly found something better and left. Never returned an email, and I was the one with the broken heart who felt dumb and foolish. If you are not going to be stunning like Angelina Jolie, or really attractive, then it's just not enough to be pretty enough and have a high ****** appeal. You need to be calm, ooze positivity and radiate happiness and good energy. You need to be organized and successful at little things. You need to be calm. For those like me in pain, we gotta work harder.

I hate telling J anything about myself, either positive or negative. When I tell her anything that I am sad about or hurts me, she dismisses it so easily. She also doesn't take criticism well. She immediately points to the fact that I have a lot of flaws too.

C was good to J. An intellectual who wished to impress her, he assisted her with her papers, talked to her professors, visited her at E.

I never meant enough to the men I loved. I thought I was lucky to have experienced love three times, but what does it mean when you make sacrifices repeatedly, where you try to change yourself into the way you think a man wants you to be, to love earnestly and madly- and for it not to be reciprocated at all? J is a very lucky girl. She thinks her life was ruined because G chose me over her for my looks. He left me so easily in the end. If I was prettier and my life was more put together- he'd have stayed.

She easily hurts me with her words, they cut daggers into me. They leave me perplexed. She has an insurmountable amount of power over people.

I have confided in a couple people about her, K and S. I hope it's okay. She drives me crazy. Lo thinks I am a mad-woman. I don't want to be a mad-woman.

I have so much pain and anguish inside me, that it just seeps over. Cup of pain is too much to bear. All the intensity I permeate is because of the pain. I want to become less intense. This is my first week of trying to become less intense.

Step 1: I will not tell anyone about my problems with J.
I will only write about them and talk to R, Ch or a therapist about it.

Step 2: This week, I will work on obtaining a therapist.
I need to apply for medicaid properly with all documentation.

Step 3: Study for Algebra 2!
Test on Wednesday- if you get this tutoring gig, more will open up to you.

Step 4: Wake up early so I can sleep early.

Step 5: Apply for jobs.
I gave up on it because I expected the P.O. job. I did horrible on the interview, so chances for a second interview would be a miracle. Getting a job will help me become happier.

Step 6: Talk to priest at English church for spiritual guidance & for help to control vices and add calmness.

Step 7: Meditate at the gym and stretch for 30 minutes before running.

Step 8: Get a mentor, join groups, attend the right kinds of events, make new friends.
Your whole life and issues cannot center around J. She has moved on, she lives with two roommates. She has Lo & the Asians, two close roommates who are a lot of fun and smart, and she has a good relationship with her dad, and she has D and her co-workers.  She has moved out of her house and moving on with her life. She comes back and accuses me of things and hurts me. I on the other hand, have befriended people who are "stuck" like me at home: Ro who is a struggling alcoholic, Ch who repeatedly -after I pleaded with him to stop- asks me what I am wearing and talks to me about us making out, Ka who is smart but a friend of J's ex C. I was formerly also friends with two Indian guys, one who ended up leaving me because he was in love with me, and another who I called the police on for stalking & harassment. I don't judge any of these guys, instead they talk to me because I am pretty-- but I talk to them because deep down they are also intelligent people who are socially or psychologically struggling like me. Still, the right opportunities only come in the right situations- so it's important that I place myself in them.

Step 9: Keep exercising.
Building up your endurance for running is awesome because it will be good for your lifestyle, but also help you train for future jobs like P.O. & F.B.I. Keep doing 5Ks and then build your way up.

Step 10: Dare to show weakness.**
Allow people to see your weakness so they can help you, without being depressed or whiny. Be yourself. Be fierce. Work hard. No man is an island. Even though my pain makes me want to be completely independant, I need a lot of help. Be humble. A lot of people have helped my family. Show gratitude for what you have.

To Begin...
There are things I feel that I need to express. Channeling my emotions this way is something I haven't done in a long time. Sometimes, when you feel that no one else understands or cares enough to understand, this is a good place to start.

I am a young, complex, sophisticated woman at a critical junction in her life. I know inside that everything will be okay, no matter what happens. I know that I have to constantly and consistently strive to be better in everything that I do. I know that no one else can make my dreams come true. I am a strong, proud woman.

I wish, that I didn't have to be so strong.

I've learned that the journey matters more than the destination. My boyfriend first told me this about a semester ago, when things were better between us. He was talking about our exercising goals, but I applied it everywhere. I held fast to his words of wisdom, like golden nuggets shifted and separated from dirt that the tide washed in.

He's right, you know. The journey matters more, especially because most people never reach their attempted destination. Sometimes, we half-assedly try. Most of us are too lazy or preoccupied to become successful quite the way we want, although some of us learn to make a compromised form of success. But that is life, you never know what happens next. The moment you begin to think you have it, you lose it. The moment you realize you have nothing, you find something that is beautiful yet unexpected. That is how it started between me and my guy.

Let me begin with our story. I still remember the moment he walked into that second floor Union building, with a somewhat shy, half naive smirk on his face, clumsily trailing behind his best friend Roney. I might have been wearing a sleeveless black top with small pink flowers, but I am not sure anymore. He was wearing over-washed, light blue jeans, black and white converse sneakers, a yellow shirt depicting a marijuana plant, a brown leather wrist bracelet. He had that amused look on his face, as if he was getting paid to be there. From the moment he walked in that door, I decided not to like him.

That day, I was assigned to handle our first "desi" meeting by myself. We had decided to start this impromptu organization, and they all decided I should be President for the obvious reasons. I was everyone's friend, they respected me, and took my advice. In a way, though they were my peers, they saw me as an elder. Although I made immature decisions in my own life, they saw some sort of leader in me, and I could bring people together. I was well liked, pretty, somewhat popular at one point, talkative, and convincing. I used to have a sparkle in my eyes when I talked, and people easily fell in love with me. Somehow my relationship with my ex-boyfriend had drained me totally. I didn't believe anymore, in anything. For the first time in my life, I was unsure of anything and I felt lost.

I wasn't confident, but that day I had to put on a face and pretend I could command a group of unruly, uncooperative south-Asian desi kids. I felt like I was losing control. He walked into the room, and headed for straight for a group of girls, Pooja and Sweety. No luck. Next, he introduced himself to a group of high school Caucasian girls. Maybe a little bit more hope there. At that time, I was so infuriated that this strange newcomer could frustrate my attempts to control the already unruly group, by flirting in the middle of an info session! "Guys--Quiet!!!!!" I remember trying to get their attention.

He remembers this story somewhat similarly. "You were the diva *****, the queen bee, and all your drones fluttering around to do your ***** work," as soon as he says it his mischievous face breaks into a warm, doting smile, and he quickly kisses my forehead. "I'm kidding, Jaan. Well..." I stare up at him, thinking about getting mad, but I also begin to laugh. Amused, he gathers me into his arms and holds me for a minute.

At first, I tried to dislike him for the mere fact that he was PKI, because one had hurt me before. Then one day, that didn't matter anymore-- G was mine. Just when life had begun to lose its appeal, and I didn't know who I was anymore, he walked into my life and breathed freshness into me. We looked perfect, we were perfect together, and we brought out the best in each other.

A winter flashback, before he left for his studies. "T, I don't ever want to lose you.... You are so perfect." We are sitting in his basement, cuddling in a brown, ethnic shawl. There was snow on the ground, that had fallen on the ground previous nights ago. I had assed my last law school exam of my first semester at W, Hakes Property final, so that I could rush into his comforting arms. He always told me that I can succeed. I knew I was smart, but he told me that I had a great head on my shoulders, and I could do the impossible. And eventually I would learn to believe him.

While we slugged our shots of whiskey and whatever else he managed to dig up, and as his older brother drank alone upstairs, we hugged each other, fearing what would happen to us.

The time he first told me he was leaving replayed over and again in my mind. It was earlier that morning when we first woke up. He didn't want to tell me the first night. "Did you cheat on me?" I had asked him, knowing he didn't. "No, T, never to you I would do that. You mean too much to me." "Well, do you have cancer?" "I wish, that would be easier to deal with." "Are you leaving the country-- flying to Pakistan and living there?," I laughed as I asked that last question, because it was impossible. "Nooo," he laughed with me, looking down. We had this same conversation on the phone every night he called me. "Well?" I waited for an answer. "Jaan, I will tell you in the morning. Tonight, you are all mine, just have faith in me."

The next morning he kissed me awake and held on to me as the sun rose. "Tell me." Fifteen minutes later, I burst into tears. As water endlessly gushed from my eyes and I blew my nose into his shirt, he quietly held me tight. It was that moment, I realized how much he really meant to me, and I to him. My feelings shocked me, but it pleased and pleasantly surprised him. For a few minutes, he teared up too before regaining his manly composure. "Jaan, we can get through this. We are strong. Nothing can come between us, and definatley not this. Just think of it as study abroad." I nodded and blinked back tears as he held me tightly to his chest. We laid there for most of the day, before going downstairs to dramatically drown our cute sorrows in the empty calories of alcohol.

Sometimes I replay these moments in my head, wondering what happened between us. Doesn't he like me anymore the way he used to? What happened to my G, the one who made me feel so happy and free. I wonder why he doesn't call. I wonder why he doesn't respond to my texts, or think about me. I wonder why he doesn't want to know how my week went, and how he doesn't listen to me anymore.

I think about asking him. Then I remember my futile attempts over the past summer, and him telling me I care too much about the semantics of our relationship, and that I am being too dramatic. I know for a fact that I am not being dramatic, but I stay quiet because I don't want to chase him away. I know I am not like other women. I am strong. No other women can put up with my man, because they could never be as strong minded and confident as me. Sometimes, I wish I wasn't so strong.

...The beautiful dream I once saw, etched in silver, on a quiet beach fades away the faster I walk towards it. As I finally catch up to it and open my hand, I realize I am holding only to plain, brown sand. I wish I could just know. I wish I could ask him what he wanted, why he quietly slips away like sand slips through the cracks in one's fingers. What happened to the glittering silver dreams, that danced and teased me on the shoreline? I wonder if I had imagined it all along, but I know better. I know somehow, somewhere in the distance, in a parallel dimension, it exists-- my beautiful silver dream. I can almost reach my hand out, and just grab it-- but I can't see it.

I still care about him, more than he would ever know. I would do anything for him, and always be there for him. I want to know why he is emotionally distant, whether he still has feelings for me, or if he is trying to force feelings for me. He knows I am strong. He knows no matter how badly I hurt inside, I won't ever show it. I will hold my head up high, and smile as confidently as the day he met me. I wish he could know that he means the world to me. I wish he could tell me how he felt- even if it hurt me, I would prefer the truth. I wish he would have enough courage to talk to me.

I am afraid that if things go unsaid, one day we will never talk again. I want to grab him, shake him, and ask him, "Has everything changed for you, or should I leave?" I want him to know that I would never judge him, after all he will always be mine in a way. I want him to know that I can handle it, and whether as a good friend or an enchanting mystery that exists in a parallel dimension, I will always be in his life, if he wants me there.

I want him to know that if he doesn't want me in his life, I will quietly leave forever- like a dream once dreamt that never came true. Because I care about him -  for him I will be strong. I want to ask. But I am afraid to speak.

All my problems can not revolve around my issues with J or Lucifer or G. They may make me sad sometimes, as I placed a lot of expectations within these people. However, they are their own people. They live for themselves, not for me. They have their own hopes (even Lucifer's biggest dream of having light skinned children), and who am I to judge or interfere?

No, I shall live for myself. During the weekends, I get so caught up in helping my little brother or mother that I don't take enough time to catch up on my ****. My little brother doesn't pay attention. He just talks and talks and requires a lot of attention just to keep him focused. He drains my energy at the end.

Why do I help people? Why don't I just run away? When I was little, only thing keeping me here was the occasional kind smiles my father gave me on the rare occasions he said hello to me at home.

Now, it is my youngest brother. If I go, he will not be successful, because they aren't good at looking after him.

2 weeks ago, J's friend D texted me about class and etcetera. I responded with an enthusiastic and funny response- something about cleaning with baking soda and vinegar. Eventually, he amicably manipulated me into re-visiting the notion of having a group dinner along with J.

I texted to let her know, and she ignored it for a week. I don't know what is wrong with her. Why doesn't she let it go, the fact that G liked me and not her? Who the heck cares that someone thinks I am prettier? That's subjective anyway.

What a strained friendship it is. When I tried to address it, she deflected by saying she was mad at something else. She said she didn't want to have dinner. When I told her I was in the same painting class as him, she coldly responded that it doesn't matter, she didn't ask, and she doesn't want to know. Obviously, she's outraged. She's thought about this so much, that she has started to hate me. It's her own insecurities. I can't blame myself. Maybe my critical behavior post graduation contributed to her hating me, I don't even remember what I may have said. I remember I had been extremely frustrated with her around that time, and I was terribly insecure. Is this going to be some vicious cycle?

12:15 am

Let's forget about J. Let's talk progress, if any.

I did meet with the State Rep a couple weeks back, and recently asked him for a recommendation letter. He agreed. I applied for one job as well. It is a job I want, but may not meet the average qualifications for. However, I would have made a strong candidate. The position is a counselor at CCP. As someone who has been through the college and graduate school process, and as someone who struggled-- I know how to approach these students. I also know how to help them. I really hope I get an opportunity for an interview at that college. It would be a great first job.

The citizenship interview was last week, and this week will be the oath ceremony.

I tried to apply for a few teaching positions, but they all required some level of certifications and a minimum 3.0 GPA which I don't have. You know what ***** is that I want a second chance. I messed up and did not get the 3.0- and I don't have money to get a teacher's certification. Yet, I know I can do these jobs better than many other teachers.

I did miss last week's career group, I think I had something else going on at the time, but I don't remember what.

I decided to start a professional blog about different topics that I am interested in. Ask my friend To to help, but I don't think he will be that committed. I have to study different professional blogs and see how detailed they are, and how they cite.

Maddison's mother texted me to tutor her daughter pre-midterms this week. I had to reschedule on my friend to another Friday. However, I am still not prepared to teach Maddison. Last week, she didn't contact me at all. And this week, I had planned on getting a lot of job applications done. Ugh.

I haven't accomplished a lot lately. After the issue with D & J dinner, I was anxious, and once the anxiousness left I became this extremely negative and sad ball. It consumed me. I decided not to let her ****** up brain affect me.

I don't think I can really be friends with Chr. Maybe he flirts with everyone, but it bugs me so ******* much. I had asked him to give me some space for a while.

To do his week: return shoes, make 12 copies of career tracking packet, call glasses place, call invisalign place, buy camera film, art supplies, and lip liner, register for race, write cover letters, and study for math.

In times gone by, there have existed people
who have made us churtle with laughter.
who drew us out of our shyness, from behind
the curtain and surreptitiously stole our smile.
we didn't love them for any purpose or conceit,
but we gave them significance.
we made Them
important,
while they were nothing before.
they lay in our arms, ate from our hands,
and when their stomachs were filled,
they left for more bountiful bosoms.

"Sometimes I wish you were dead. All of you. I like you, but these conflicts are getting to me. Your needless, never ending, merciless complaints. My shortcomings. Exaggerated, overrated, pus filled pimples you are. You are annoying and one by one, as major and minor as you may be I feel like shooting each one of you down. Angry? Boom. You are dead. Yelling, crying, laughing, screeching, droning on and on and on like a black and yellow bumblebee under the harsh sweltering summer sun. SPLAT! Off with your head and your neck and your arms too. Black and grimy and disgusting on the fly swatter. Look at me! Whatever. Don’t look at me. Your eyes should be poked out. All of you should die. I want to be alone in this world without you. I love each of you ever much, but you no longer affect me. You walk around me, about me, over my head, under my feet, and through me but I will not hear you. I can not feel you. You walk like corpses, dead and mute, and I do not see you. I keep on walking, ignoring you. Forgetting your existence. I am in this alone and I will stay Alone. Devils eyes. Stop staring at me. Devils eyes. Rotting pig nostrils. Stop staring at me. Lifeless you, rotting in your grave, surrounded by worms and earthen colored bugs. Flirty, Flimsy, *****, Red Dress, Flaunting, Flapping, Backless, Strapless. Stop prostituting yourself, you filthy *****. Get off me. Cold, alone, hungry, unsatisfied. Alone only I can sustain myself. I need myself and myself only."

(A rant, more than a poem. Written at age 20- when things got too intense, and I was angry. Thought it couldn't get any worse, but today is proof that I was wrong. At least then, there was hope).

The storm that washes through my body should take me with it, carry me through my second story window and into the pitter patter of the streets; only my shadow should follow in passing to join the souls at night. My blood should mingle with the rain, seep through the alleys, and my body return to the dirt. I should become one with nature and understand it all from within- become a part of the intricate simplicity, that mystical earth which gives and takes away. I shall watch the world and my people, and be at peace. Perhaps my life would be taken away too soon, but I shall not return to walk the paths and haunt it's inhabitants. I shall know that I am in a better place, and that it will not get better.

A premature lamb lay in the pool of red,
her intestines and stomach spewn about, sputtering,
quivering, left on the ground as a sacrifice,
unworthy to be displayed on an alter.

At night she was *****, torn apart by
a Jackel, a Tiger, and a Snake
who chewed
but regurgitated her remains.

Believing death would soon come,
she lay, like a whisper
neither living nor dying,
only her brain left beating inside her.

Three days passed and she survived.
The gods refused to take her soul,
she was not worthy They said, hardly
notable and lacking in value for sacrifice.

she was from Cain's livestock, They said
she wasn't the fattest nor the healthiest.
Spotted, sickly, and skinny, unfortunatley born,
neither a blessing, nor a curse- insignificant to be either.

Abandoned, abused, and neglected in her first life
bullied everywhere she went, a mockery, except
as she glanced at her reflection in the stream, She saw
beauty and magic, and expected to blossom like an evening primrose.

she acquired religion, the only gift she received from her birth mother
she clutched the ideals and smiled despite her cross because of it
All of her ailments, her deformities, she bore
in Christ's name

In her next life, she tried to live forgetting the past, but it
pursued her like wild fire drawn to a black locust tree
she could not hide who she was, for she bore
the mark of Cain on her forehead, through no fault of her own.

A new chapter, she fell in love and was betrayed thrice.
The Jackel, the Tiger, and the Snake came,
upturning her life ferociously, mindlessly, recklessly, carelessly
but gone with the gust of wind.

she had nothing, but her will
until she lost that too.
she looked around the world and saw happiness
but none of it was hers, because she was nothing.

she dared not dream,
since Loki would, for sport,
create more illusions til she
could no longer discern the salt of reality.

after the storm, she opened her eyes and saw
her own blood splattered on the brown patch of a muddy forest.
The Jackel, the Tiger, and the Snake liked her smell. They chewed her flesh but could not digest it. They regurgitated her remains and left.

The gods did not accept her as a sacrifice,
they spat on her with water from the sky and closed their eyes.
her soul wished to part, water from her eyes wished to escape,
but she was not gifted enough to cry, nor blessed enough to die.

Not even the earth was willing to take her in.
her body did not decompose, but stayed there- not quite dead.
Passerbys poked at her with a long stick, but did not touch,
nor partake of the flesh, nor bury her.

Some simply walked around her, others walked on top,
A few deficated on her, but no one saw the life in her eyes,
nor the tears unable to be released, nor the hope
still daring to survive in the cells of her blood on the ground

Do not think, for the mind is careless;
thoughtlessly inflicting drugged streams
of half consciousness. memories
on the carousel, wheeling rainy dreams.

Lose all touch with sanity,
there's no love for you,
Roaches fancy a flesh of vanity,
but scorpions ****** dry the blood.

She is perfect just the way she is,
but I will never be.
She has birthed a baby, his
green eyed, sweet chinned little girl.

You could say, Mind, do not be this way,
but you can not stop those thoughts-
Your own womb is barren and grey,
a weeded, thorny, fruitless void.

I miss something about you. Perhaps it is a special sparkle, and a smile that was only mine.

Lying naked under the covers of my bed, you reminisced a few months ago, that we had grown up together, from children into adulthood. But I had recognized the ambition in you from the beginning, that ruthless ambition that would one day take you away from me.

I feel a distance, as cold as the December air, but I am still not sure why your heart has chilled toward me.

One day, you will find a beautiful girl, and I will force the jealousy far away from my heart or hide it in some corner.

Since that crazy night I finally sent you 8 texts expressing my feelings, you've tried to do things right, but I must accept that I have lost you and your love. It's not you, my darling. It's not us. It's just fate works a little differently than we wished.

I know I shouldn't hate you, nor God, nor The Fates for ******* with me. I don't know why we were given each other, to be taken away from each other. I've always known I loved you as a person, there as never a doubt in my mind. I am not sure about this, but I think I fell in love with you, also. I'm not sure. I don't know what I am saying.

I know as well as you do that a marriage would never work out between us. I've always known it, but I hate you for saying it, as we both have different reasons for it.

I wish you weren't a man *****- a **** addict, and a super hot guy who considers first and foremost the external beauty of a woman. I fell for you because you used to like me for who I was inside.  I wish your life was harder, like mine, so you could value me as much as I value you. I wish you didn't have *** with those other girls or love anyone else. Part of me wants to lose my virginity, part of me doesn't. Part of me wants to lose it to you, part of me doesn't want to give you the pleasure of knowing that you were my first and only- when you don't love me anymore. You'd have my body for a night, but I'd lose my heart.

I was strongly attached to my ex, although I never loved him. I didn't trust him, and in the end he left me for the green eyed beauty I always knew he would leave me for. I didn't care about him, but I felt  betrayed because he was my best friend. Sometimes, I think he was a better man than you- because at least he recognized that I had a reason to be angry with him. When you hurt me, you treat me like I don't even matter unless you choose to let me matter.

I love you, I miss you already, and will always regrettably save a piece of my heart for you, and hope that some way, some how, my soul will be re-united with yours in a meaningful way. Maybe its because I am a lawyer and your a finance guy that makes us connected in an odd sort of way- even though we both don't quite get each other completely, we really liked each other.

I think its more than timing. I don't think we would be right for each other for other reasons. In my personal opinion, I am not good enough for you,and I never will be. My life isn't good enough for you, my family isn't as cool as yours, my friends aren't a fun as yours, and I am not as beautiful as you are. I wish I could keep up, but I can't. I hope we can enjoy the countdown of moments that we have with each other.

Goodbye, my love. I love you. I miss you. I will remember you.

My Prayer,

On you I could compose a thousand

songs,

Unique.

My mind has captured the

Patterns,

And beatings of your heart.

Dawn,

The dancing of the drums awakens me.

Dusk,

Quiet strings lull me to sleep.

O you-

Jubilation of my soul!

Desired water, unquenched thirst,

Seas unrested; sailing on open waters,

Waiting.
- (written at age 16)

The sweet autumn that orange Octobers bring,
faint smell of gold
leaves crisping under
the slight thread of sneakers.
Cold breaths mingling
under the same yellow stars,
and when your eyes have captured mine,
they are forced to surrender.
Blink quickly and look away, sweet smile
playing on the corner of your lips.

(Written at age 18 one night, upon arriving home after walking in the woods with my first bf)

Just feel like flowing like a breeze
Just feel like falling as rain

I asked for a flower, and you gave me
just one: that was enough for my heart.

If you are not here, then neither am I
Stay by my side forever.

First time I saw you, I wanted
to see you a million times over

Desires wanted to escape my head
Secrets flowed out of my mouth.

I opened my ears and listened:
All of my dreams shone brightly in your eyes

How rich is the night sky?
How comfortable this wind,
My heart, my flower
When you come near, the sunset is colorful

On the brick road, where I first met you full of mischief
Adorned in black bracelets, I turned away frowning
That moment, that precious moment
How beautiful, I miss our memories

All your secrets, I wish to slowly figure out
I want your heart, come to me
With wings, we can fly
Let's bathe in love's waterfall

b