We’re silly fools
with our petty fights
We have petty dreams
and sleepless nights
We lie awake
and think up things
New lives and loves
of queens and kings
We dream and wish
of things above
And get lost in
what never was
The years, they pass
the time grows thin
Our lives have flown
and we don’t know when
We spent true time
thinking up a throne:
That our own has fallen?
how we should have known
The plan so far
is to not grow up
But to grow grey
wrinkled and old
The difference
between the two
Is there
But you must find it
for yourself
His name is Pee Sai.
He is 23-years-old.
He is my friend.
Pee Sai speaks very little English, and I speak absolutely no Burmese, but the language barrier is not detrimental towards our friendship. I don’t need to speak his language to know that Pee Sai is hilarious, kind, and worrysome. He does not need to speak my language to know how well we get along.
When I first met Pee Sai, I had just crossed the Burmese-Thai border after sitting between the two countries in horrendous heat for an hour. I was sweaty, irritated, and was suffering from one of my headaches; he was shy, not speaking to anyone as we found our way to the bus that would take us throughout Burma.
I officially met Pee Sai outside of a school in the Burmese mountains. I was asked to grab my ukulele from the bus so our group could sing a song for the schoolchildren, and Pee Sai was asked to escort me.
“Hello, I am Pee Sai, what is your name?”
“Hi, I’m Aria!”
When I tried to converse further, I realized how those few words were some of the only English words Pee Sai knew. After we discovered this hurdle, we communicated through outrageous gestures, silly faces, and universal sounds of approval, disapproval, annoyance, and happiness.
Pee Sai would seem to be, to most of anyone, a shy but friendly face; a man who has lived a relatively easy life and recognizes that.
Pee Sai has not lived such a life.Read More »
If all you need is love
Then what is oxygen
And air?
What is food
And shelter
And safety?
What is security
And education
And support?
You do not need love
But crave it
And want it
But maybe that’s what necessity is.
The sound is deep.
It resonates throughout the room,
The chamber of my heart,
And the corners of my fingers.
The sound is gorgeous.
Irresistible.
It sends shivers down my spine,
Raises my skin,
Flutters my heart.
How I long for it to be closer.
Not across a world
Or a room
But behind me.
Heat seeping to my shirt,
A breath behind my ear,
A whisper.
A whisper of anything:
Everything.
Just to hear that deep sound.
Just to send shiver to my spine,
Send bumps to my skin,
Send flutters to my heart,
Send a longing directly through me.
Your sound is deep.
It resonates throughout the room,
And throughout the chamber of my heart.
It must be so boring!
So dull. So bleak.
To live in a mind
No more than obsolete.
Does it drive you mad?
No madder than me.
To breathe in their air,
But see more than they see?
I thought you were different:
Extraordinary! Unique!
But you’re just like them:
Boring, labeled, not me.
So take a leap of faith
Off a hospital roof!
With you still alive,
They’ll not yet know truth.
You fraud! You fake!
You waste of a genius!
They’ll never understand
While drowning under brilliance.
So jump! Leap!
Wait! Here! I’ll go first.
Because, as falls go,
Reichenbach is worst.
If I were brave,
I would straddle the tallest cliff-side,
Waver from low to high pride,
And fall just for the view.
If I were brave,
I would light myself on fire,
Let the flames crawl higher and higher,
Until the heat felt like you.
And if I were a lion
Not a mouse, instead,
I would survive every evening
And not cower in my head.
If I kept my eyes open,
With no fumble or flinch,
I would see every moment
Of I life that I miss.
If I were brave…
If I were brave…
If I were brave…
But I’m not.
So I will cower!
And cringe!
And flee from every shadow!
I will cry out!
And miss
The life that others borrow.
Because I am not brave.
I hide from every cliff.
But what if I were brave?
What if, what if, what if.
They primp you hair.
They give you a glowing tan.
With the help of plastic, your smile has never been bigger.
They make you beautiful.
Well, they tell you you’re beautiful.
But all you feel is trapped.
Imprisoned in your gaudy, sparkly outfit, preparing to dazzle the audience.
All you want to do is scream.
Tear the frill of your dress, smear your makeup, and let out a grotesque growl to prove that you’re not just peachy-keen.
Beneath this facade you’re crying for freedom from the rusted shackles clamped to your free-will.
You have the dream and the wish and the will power to run away from this fabricated life, but you don’t.
You’re scared of the outside world.
Terrified of what is inside of you.
You know that once you tear away at all the cosmetics, all the clothes, the shoes, the glamor, the guilt, the pure rage that has been embedded into you since day one, that you will feel just as ugly as you do now.
That without all of the attention, all of the glamor and fans and trophies and doting mothers affection, you’ll be nothing.
You’ll look in the mirror and you’ll see a pale, skinny, scared and ugly girl gazing back from sunken eyes.
You’re broken. Defined by your reflection.
A stranger stares back at you.
You shatter.
And each shard asks the question: Why?
Broken.
Ashamed.
Frightened.
A worthless little girl.
You and me?
We were never a beauty queen.
Oh my goodness, another Nerd Rant?
I am so nerdy this week!
So, I’ve heard people talk about this “amazing” television show that is borderline a “cult classic” and I finally built up the nerve to watch it.
And ohmygoodness it is utterly fabulous.
The television show is the very amazing and very awesome Doctor Who.
No, originally, the show started back in the fifties. But it was brought back in 2005 and blew up! There have been six new seasons in the 21st century, three different Doctors (the ninth, the tenth, and the eleventh), one TARDIS, and hundreds of science fictiony adventures.
It. Rocks.
I’m totally geeking out because I’m pretty much in love with the idea of a Time Lord running amok in his time and space traveling police call box saving the world again and again and again from Daleks and Cybermen and The Void.
It just seems magnificent.
I’m kind of obsessed.
And it’s the type of show where either you completely love it or completely hate it.
So go nuts.
Watch an episode (or twelve).
I hope you get sucked in.
I did.
Once again, I must delve into my “series” of nerd rants for another TOTALLY AWESOME nerd thing.
As previously stated, I am a Harry Potter nerd. So when I discovered J.K. Rowling was launching a new Harry Potter-based website, I had to apply for early admission right away.
AND I GOT IN.
This website is, nerdily enough, called Pottermore. In Pottermore you follow the basic storyline of the books, but there’s an added character, you. You get your own wand (mine is a 10 inch cyprus, unyielding with a phoenix feather core) and you get sorted into a house (Hufflepuff!)
You learn spells and brew potions for house points and all in all it is a very geeky, nerdy, and fantastic thing.
It’s so lame but so much fun.
I highly suggest you all go and check out Pottermore when it is released to the public on October 1!
Seriously.
Do it.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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