I have always wanted to live near the glass.
Open and cold
Pure and nice.
Crystalline structures formed feet above the surface.
The glass is the only thing that serves a purpose.
Frozen water, a protector from the sub zero abyss.
The sun sets and rises and reflects of the face, until the heat comes then it’s a race.
A race against time
To finish through the line.
I believe that the sound comes from my heart. Wherever I go, whatever I do, it stays with me, always.
“Breakfast 7 am; Art Class 9 am; Lunch 12 pm; Reading time 3 pm; Dinner 6 p.m.” From the moment I open my sulky eyes in the early morning, I view this schedule board on my bedroom door. It changes every single day. It is really helpful, at least for me. It tells me what to do and where to go.
My mother comes in with a delightful smile as usual. I am really grateful that my mother can still spend her precious time taking care of me even though it is not always easy to look after me. I love her smile just like I enjoy the beautiful sunshine. “Good morning, honey” were the words she wrote on the board along with a big smiley face. I laughed. “It seems you are not going to learn the sign language, are you?” I wrote back to her. “Oh,you are right, I am not going to. Cause I prefer this way to communicate with you. I like the moment when you see my words, I like the way that I can make you surprised, the way you can feel your life is colorful and dulcet.”
I know my mom. She is the only person who understands me, the only person who can put herself into my special life.
Suddenly, a beam of dazzling light hurts my sensitive eyes. I woke up. Yes,I dreamed of my mom again.
“I know you love purple. So I call this song Purple Touch.”
I have never had a chance again to think about you since the day you left. But just right now, when I was asked about the memories I treasure, I saw your face. I suddenly realized that you never left from my life.
How can I define you, a friend? a lover? or part of my family?
You know me, I could never remember the details of any weathers. But I do remember, the day was bright and quite, and the air was fresh with the particular smell of snow. It was not really cold even though people all dressed like moles that desired to dig into the deepest and warmest center of the Earth. Everywhere was filled with red and green. Everyone seemed so content and pleasant.
Because it was Christmas.
Because it was December 25th, 2010, the last day we spent together.
You told me before that we would never celebrate Christmas because we are Chinese. I laughed and that was the moment I fell in love with you my friend.
But you chose Christmas because you said, “It’s a happy holiday so we will not have any unhappiness memories left before you leave.”
We went to the piano store – “Golden Piano” as usual.
“I have a present for you before you leave.” You smiled with expectation and I smiled, too.
Well, Saturday marked the first day of the 2012-2013 NHL season, well I guess the 2013 season at least.
It was a long and frustrating lockout, but the teams are back lacing up the skates and getting out on the ice.
I witnessed a moment in history that will only happen once, and that was watching my beloved Los Angeles Kings raise their first Stanley Cup banner up into the rafters at Staples Center.
While watching the captains of the team skate the flag out to center ice I started to feel something.
Last week for our English 11 Honors class, Mrs. Wilson asked us to write a personal essay about the site we wanna live. And all of the sudden San Francisco came out of my mind. I’ve been there only once, but I just couldn’t help myself thinking about it all the time. I want to live there.
Sleepless San Francisco
There is a place that I would love to leave my heart there without hesitation. My sleepless San Francisco would be the dream I want to keep even when I am awake.
Located on a peninsula between the San Francisco Bay and Pacific Ocean, San Francisco has its own definition of city – compact, busy, but scenic and comfortable as well. I would first arrive into San Francisco from the north via the world-famous Golden Gate Bridge, the place for a good start. I would be the first one to watch the born of sun, and enjoy the amazement of the golden sunshine.
Then my journey would start. When there came the noisy bells, the yellow cable cars would be on their way heading to me. I would choose to stand on the edge of the car and hold on to the handrail. “Ding-dong, ding-dong” – as the car drove, my hair would swing with the wind and the views would greet me as I passed by. Built on several hills, the roads are steep but also well-organized in a grid. The most exciting moment would be the downhill part, where I could experience a gentle roller-coaster.
Ever feel like you’ve lost something that you simply can’t ever replace or recover?
Not something really, someone. Losing someone that close that knew so much and wanted a better human being instead of a monster.
One who rather be feared and respected than loved. What kind of animal is this? This maniac never evolved fully. A heart and soul were left undeveloped from the vessel that wreaks havoc on all those who care. Pushing away, more interested in achieving his desired power than achieving relationships with those that wanted to be there.
Denial was never the answer for him. Hiding in the shadows, he tried to hide himself from everyone because he couldn’t stand causing the hurt anymore. The pain he forced upon himself and the world around him was unorthodox. Everything and everyone that he thought he loved was all a lie. He wasn’t capable of love or allowing people to love him. He wanted to learn, but didn’t know how. His power was declining.
Is there more than just raw power? Is there emotion in this cold life he lives? Is there any way to achieve happiness?
What an outrageous concept. He so greatly craves love. But he can’t feel it. He had it.
But she was always his missing piece. She never saw what he did. She was incredible to him and he loved her. But when the missing piece fell to the floor, she dragged his heart with her, never allowing love again.
As much as he wants to hate her, he can’t. He still loves his missing piece.
Knife in the back
Can’t breath.
Fall to my knees crying out
Can’t move.
Cold,
Lifeless,
Motionless.
Motionless, like the sea on a calm day
or the calm before a storm.
Something is coming, but not even I knows when.
Only when the stars align will time begin to move.
The knife will be removed,
and I will be able to breath,
I will be able to move,
I will be able.
There are different types of friends, as many of you probably know. Last year, I was friends with someone who I expected to be close with for years to come. This year, we have barely talked. When I confronted her about this, she said she just didn’t care to.
It was at this point that I realized that some people, even if you might be close to them, aren’t going to stick around through everything. Looking back, I can see how she would cut me down and embarrass me in public, or make me feel bad about something. That’s not a true friend.
This year, I have been lucky to find someone who I know will stick around. Every day at lunch, we have our lunch date, almost without fail. We talk about everything that comes to mind, from boys and friends to food and sports.
She boosts my self-confidence by threatening to no longer talk to me, which of course has changed my thought process tremendously since the beginning of the year finally found my best friend.
Trapped.
Caged like an animal.
Can’t speak out for fear of punishment.
Must speak out for fear of death.
How do you live when you can do nothing?
Either way you are unhappy.
Words stuck behind the glass
Like finger paintings on a frosted window.
Flipped and confusing on the other side,
But leaves a mark in the morning light.
These days my English and US History classes are both learning slavery.
It reminds me of a book called “Ishi” which we read for English10 Honors last year.
Because as learning more and more of them, right now I can feel their loneness for being the only one or the last one.
Here is my poem dedicated to the book “Ishi,” called I am the Last.
Staring around,
the darkness of becoming extinct enveloped me
the loneliness of independence embraced me
the silence of emptiness devoured me
I am the last.
Standing there,
with my eyes indistinct by tears
with my lips sealed by the reality
with my hands tenacious by unfamiliarity
with my heart quivery facing a radically different world
I am the last.
Crying here,
I am trying to explore my own sky
I am attempting to breathe deeply with the bleeding air
I am here
In my new world.
Everything changes on me
But one thing cannot be neglected forevermore is
I am the last.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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