Reflections I

The search for truth is something undertaken by all of us. Yet some push the boundaries of this search further than others, not just pleasing themselves with what is needed to get around through life but rather what comprises life, what's our purpose here, and so on. The answers to these questions lead to a sense of nihilism in certain cases...moreover when dealing with more pertinent questions as to the meaning of it all, what makes right, and whether there is salvation. More often than not, these questions have NO answer, at least none perceivable to us humans, leading to ...even more frustration. However, it is the same pursuit of knowledge that is necessary to reach the most pragmatic solutions to things,to advance society, and so on. One is then taken to a choice: Whether to seek truth and progress society, usually at the expense of one's comfort and contentment, or to remain, in a sense, blissfully ignorant. Here comes the rub: Do we sacrifice some of our own comfort, our own happiness, for the greater good, or do we wait around waiting for what may or may not be, but capable of being more content?

10 Observations on Princeton:

1. Why are there SOOO MANY ballet dancers at Princeton!?!
2. So I bought all this nice, chic clothes for Princeton and it turns out that, contrary to Ivy League Stereotypes, no one cares about what you wear and almost everyone wears T-shirts and shorts... All this money and closet space taken up for nothing?
3. I get sick every time I'm at Princeton????? :(
4. There's like NOOOO hispanic groups here. The only performing Hispanic group I've seen is like Mexican folk dancing, which is...interesting...But we definitely need more variety. I wish I could start one if only I had the skills and technique to do it.
5. Why is it that people here are supposedly on financial aid and yet they spend money on every little thing?
6. Apparently I have a Rower's body...This team's either desperate or blind, or I have suddenly gotten very athletic or am going to get stuck in a crappy position.
7. People here are party animals at the start. Watching the world's intellectuals become stumbling barbaric buffoons on the lawns of the Eating Clubs is highly amusing... Especially since a lot of them are Freshmen who are all like "OMG I HAVE FREEDOM!" and then don't know how to control themselves.
8. My room is tiny and I really have to organize it. Good thing we have air conditioner, which seems to be quite a luxury in the college overall...
9. Speaking of organization, it has finally hit me that I am in the Ivy Leagues! All these people are like seeking out professors individually, going to EVERY open house available, and doing a whole bunch of other Ivy-ish stuff... I am a big fish in a big pond, which leads me to realize...
10. I HAVE TO step up my game, which is ok because I CAN step up my game, and I WILL step up my game.

College

Wow... in six days I became a comedian, the glue of a group, and a good dancer. This goes to show that what makes a person is not their innate talent but their confidence, their personality, and their attitude. College is looking great... However I am worried about all that there is left to do and there is always that fear of falling behind...

A Light In the Darkness

Part I:

The sun falls
The tinder's set
The apples are passed
The honey on top

Rosh Hashanah begins
A symbol of a New Year
The End of the Old
The start of the New

The fire glistens
Burning the life now gone
The roots of the old are ashes
Never to be the same again

Shadows dance in the wind
Dancing ghosts of the past
I sit with my scout troop
Eating a forgotten repast

And in the warmth I feel her
Tender as before
I close my eyes and pray
Yearning for the nights of yore

The fire burns and burns away
Smoke on my face breaks my trance
The ashes of the past crumple
But the fire burns on,
And hope shines on



Part II:

The fire in the night
Consuming all the old
Darkness enshrouds
A near-lost soul

In search of something

The fire is the light
The friends are nearby
There is hope in the shadows
And laughter in the crackles

And yet there's something

Could it be the Singulair;
A depression artificial,
As the path from whence it came?
Or could it be me;
Missing the ashes of the old,
Or fearing that which devours them?

But there is something

I come down to the shore
With those that I call friends
The sun has gone down by now
But the river holds a shine

And it holds something

I shall leave
To quit the thinking,
To find some refuge;
Join the laughter,
Join the cheers,
And in THAT, find true light...

In hopes of something...
Hoping for something...

Nature Poem

So I've decided to post a new piece of article I've written or write in the moment every day or two from now on. I will start by posting one of the first poems I wrote, inspired by sitting on a bench during a debate tournament 3 years ago.

Today I listened to the birds' shrill ring
I listened to them laugh
I listened to them sing
Today I watched the grass glisten green
Under the rain, so clear and serene
Today I saw the blossom of flowers
As I sat there a good number of hours
Purple, red, white, and yellow
I felt nature so calm and so mellow
Nature, so coherent and pristine
Works beauty in everything that’s seen
I heard this quickly come and go
With the footsteps of people to and fro
Nature, together in harmony
And us humans, in a cacophony
If nature can do it, then why can't we?

Here's to The Tears We Knew We'd Cry

Another poem I wrote about the same girl I just remembered:

I am spellbound
I wonder if you think of me as much as I do of you
I hear your laughter amidst the dins
I see your smile when I am down
I want your company and comfort
I am your friend
I pretend you are with me
I feel your heart beat against me
I touch your warm, slender body
I worry when you are alone
I cry when I am alone
I am your lover
I understand that this will not last
I say let’s make the moment last
I dream of more time with you
I try to make you happy
I hope I haven’t failed, and in spirit
I am forever yours

Tomorrow Came Too Soon

Two Poems I wrote inspired by my recent breakup with my girlfriend and one of the truly greatest girls in the world:

I'm experimenting with structure so they might not be that good.

The Final Countdown

T Minus Ten
Ten Dollars for that dinner I just bought you
Ten Minutes from Dewey’s to my House
Date of June that marked the beginning of the end

Nine
Nine months that I’ve had feelings for you
Nine times I’ve made you cry
Hour of night when the end’s in sight

Eight
Eight pieces of sushi on the plate
Eight Days to learn your favorite song
Roses that sit on your desk

Seven
Seven days left, more or less
Seven Hours to hike Pilot Mountain
Minutes taken to change a future

Six
Six photographs of us on my cell phone
Six poems of mine dedicated to you
Months that I will never forget

Five
Five sticky notes hang on my mirror frame
Five more minutes to last us all night
Fingers interlocking with mine

Four
Four songs that remind me of you
Four times you’ve given me faith
Forehead kisses to lighten the pain

Three
Three times we’ve shared everything
Three times you’ve helped me cry
Three words:
I want you
I miss you
I love you


Two
Two beautiful eyes, ears, hands, and lips
Two to tango, to salsa and swing
Two to laugh, to share, to love
Too late to get it all out
Too late to make it last longer
Too many times the wrong choice made

One
One person whom I love
One person who I’ll never forget
One night to make or break a relationship
One night to change the course of a life
One night to determine the future
The loneliest number that you’ll ever do

Zero
Zero hour has arrived
Zero days left to love
Zero days left to give
Zero days left to talk
Zero days left to show
Zero people to fill the hole

Blast-off
To our stars in the sky.





Here’s to the Wanderers

Here’s to the wanderers, the seekers of the light,
Who only lay with stars when they go to sleep at night.
Here’s to the businessmen, the sailors, and the like,
Military brats, their fathers who leave to fight.

Here’s to El Che, riding ceaselessly on his bike,
Here’s to Siddhartha, on his never-ending hike.
Curtains hide their souls, and on their mind’s door a lock,
Driven by need or waiting for fortune to strike.

Coming and going, without a haven or dock,
There’s little time to make friends, we live by the clock.
Transience we have become too accepting of,
And over our hearts there forms a thick shield of rock.

This self-defense system is hard to get rid of,
Keeps others out, care they think we’re devoid of.
This becomes a prison that one cannot let go of.
Something maybe meant to protect those that we love.

An Ekphrasis

Based on the sculpture of the great thinker:

A silent man hunches over,
His eyes and gaze betray turmoil.
Hand on chin, his brows are knit,
Yet so still does he sit.
Not a single muscle stirs.
Not a single sound is heard.

His mind at work, he closely ponders
All the hidden, unknown wonders:
Philosophy, religion, science, math,
The meaning of life, the human path.
Every answer brings new questions,
Every question stirs new thoughts.

Maybe he recalls a long-lost love,
Pictures the beauty of a flying dove,
And with nostalgia, a childhood lost,
He imagines, but at what cost?
He sees the earth, the sky serene;
The past, the present, and the unforeseen.

Or maybe, there is nothing at all;
Society's empty shell sits tall.
The ignorant fool just pretends,
A pose to cover up loose ends.
He worries about what others see.
He worries that he may never be.

Philosopher, wonderer, artist, deceiver,
We'll never know, as none's the wiser.
The true thoughts lost to the universe,
Such is the torture of the human curse.
What others think, feel, and know
Are lost to us...what a blow.

The man stirs, and with a start
His gaze heightens and his lips part,
"Now what did I have for lunch today?"

A Moment in Time

Another Saturday passes by. The sun shines bright, the birds sing, the grass is green, the sky is clear. Thus, I sit within the confines of yellow; that sickly sea of yellowish peach that envelops the house. The computer screen flickers in rhythm with the monotonous drone of the tower. The clock ticks away at each passing, wasted moment of my life. More IB homework lays on the counter. "The more I do, the more that appears," I mutter to myself, "when will this ever end?" Like a robot without soul, like a slave without hope, I type on. I know my halfhearted efforts are futile, but the emptiness of white continues being filled by voids of black and on I type. I stop again and look around. The cell phone looks tempting, but who can I call that I can really talk to as myself? All it is is masks, I think. Of geek, of caring friend, of good person... I look at my neighbor's house in hope but my heart falters as I realize he's gone... Probably off with his girlfriend or crackhead friends. My car is gone, taken by my parents. Trapped I sit... I look around at my pocketknife in anger and despair. "No, not that again," I think as I look at my arm. I turn to the screen again. It stares back, beesichingly, wanting another bite at my soul. A storm of turmoil enshrouds my mind, but I push that all back as I launch the game, "Battlefield 2"; better called "Battlefield of the lost." I shoot at the terrorists with glee, each kill pushing back a problem in my mind, if just for a moment. But just as the soldiers respawn all the time, so do my unresolved issues, nipping at my mind, at my soul. I play on, with hopes of finding serenity. But the enemies keep appearing. The problems keep growing... Another lost game, despite my grandiose fighting. Typical... A horn honks. My parents have arrived. I close the game quickly. Alt, F4. As the door creaks open, I wipe my face, putting up my mask of happiness. Again a diligent student, I bring up teh essay window, and thus I type away at my life...Happy parents, happy kid, right? And no one knows, no one suspects a thing. All is "well."

The Journey of Life

Can we ever really fully know who we are? We are a collection of all that we have been and are to be, and all our experiences. Life is a journey in which one is constantly evolving physically, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually.