Rainy Day

爱总是让人哭, 让人觉得不满足
天空很大却看不清楚, 好孤独...

~ st*rcr*ss*d ~

Putting things into Perspective

I've been really blessed lately; mostly getting the things that I want and need - the NW duty, USPOH, and of course the Waseda DDP. Not to mention IHG and U21 were both rewarding as well; and well IVP, IVP is just... as it is haha. Recess week has been quite nice - nice (and too much) food almost every night, meeting up with old old beloved friend, kelong trip with the surprisingly fun fishing and friendly uncle who drives like... whoa haha, oh and the amazing 2 hour spontaneous guitar lesson!

All I can say is, I've been really... really blessed. Thank you.

But now I also understand, that I cannot simply sit back and wait for all these to drop into my lap and turn out well. Some of them have ended, some have just begun and some have yet to start; but all are/were within my grasp and in my hands, so it's up to me to make sure I see them through. See them through such that it's worthy and not a waste that they have come my way. I guess I'm reaffirming my belief that we each make our own luck, because how can luck help us if we don't help ourselves part of the way first?

Thank you once more, and babe, please remember, to keep working hard at it: make it blossom, make it bloom. (Haha sounds like I'm trying to release my zanpakutou... too much Bleach -.-'')

I read somewhere recently that pride is a woman's greatest sin, and I think that's certainly my biggest issue sometimes - I'm quite a snob in some ways, intellectual snob especially. So I gotta work at it and not let it get in the way. Because sometimes the obstacles that stop people in their pursuit for dreams and the bigger things, are just silly trivialities and a desire to stay blind to the bigger picture.

~ st*rcr*ss*d ~

How the Face grows Old

How the Face grows Old,

with jaded thoughts of the mind;

from weary depths of one's soul.

But oh, the heart, the heart remains

unconscious,

of the etchings numerous grown;

of the burden daily multiplied;

of

the passing Time.

And the concsciousness moves on

nary a hindrance or a thought

to the loss of Youth.

Until a face reflected,

a light that shining back -

a passing window to show

How the Face has grown Old.

~ st*rcr*ss*d ~