in your periphery

who could have foretold
the friendship we have made
the paths we trod are so different
at times we walk in the same shadows
i don't know if you saw me there,
next to you--you thought you were alone
i saw you fall--you wouldn't take my hand
as you shook of the dust and pressed on
i confess to you, but i think you know
the streaks on my face were not from the rain
i saw you run when you had nothing left
i saw you laugh in the light for them
don't think i didn't see the sadness in your eyes
your strength is your only weakness
let your weakness be your strength
i saw you heal their wounds
with the beauty of your soul
as you gave all your love
then shuddered, shivered in the cold
hoping to one day be loved
you poured yourself out
and took nothing in
let me fill your shoes for awhile
and carry the burden you think i can't see
my heart is heavy from bearing it with you
i'd do anything to steal your pain
don't wither away
don't let the ghosts of your past haunt you
don't forget who you are
don't give up on love
stop
let yourself be filled
so that you can dance again
upon hope without pain

January 20, 2006

Where to start with this blog? It has been a long time since I last wrote one. I'm feeling a little brave tonight so forget the whole poem thing--the old stream-of-consciousness writing ensues.

I was thinking the other day why I started putting only poems or retarded "metaphorical" stories on here. I think I started on a path of a broader difference between the outside and within--to be even less serious and joke around more and yet write more introspective things on here. As if I was going to reveal some other hidden part of me, or even the real me or something, I do not even know what the real me is. Somehow I thought that I would get people's attention through what I wrote. Humph, silly idea that was. I guess in order to do that you have to write about relevant things or in a way that makes sense to people. So then I found myself in such a conflict, is it better to write in a way that is true to yourself and what you are trying to express? Or better to write less vaguely so people can more easily identify?

I just read a friend's blog and I feel so broken for him, what can I do? So much pain in the lives of people I know and regretting not saying the words to let them know of the vicarious hurt I feel for them, even if I never had the words. You, my friends that bear the scars of troubles, that come out stronger--are my heroes. You who mourn your losses and take on life with even more courage.

I did not set any New Year's resolutions this year. No, it was not that I resolved not to make resolutions or anything clever like that. I only hope that it was not a manifestation of my apathy. I had never been real big on it but I would try and change things I guess. Sheesh, talk of resolutions is so trite. Ok, moving on...

A struggle recently has been belonging. I always thought I would belong at home in that humid paradise of sweat and splendid food. Bangkok I will always love you. Thailand you are always my home. Then I met with my classmates and friends and I felt very out of place, which I was perplexed at initially because we had come from all over--none of us had seen each other in a while. But as I thought about it I realized that we were living such different lives, headed in different directions and that saddened me so. The decisions they make, the lifestyle that they live contrasted with mine. At times I felt as if maybe I was not really living life in this institution we call Simpson University, in an artificial atmosphere. Truly, being surrounded by Christians 24/7 is amazing in the fellowship I get, but it is so ersatz. I say this because when we are finished with our time here, we are in the real world again of nonbelievers. I'm not sure how to tie my several thoughts in here into one paragraph. Anyway, all this to say that I felt like it was difficult for me to identify with my friends and relate with their experiences because my life is so different. Not that I am jealous of their lives, I just felt empty. Especially because I felt like I would always have that closeness with them. Even more so because I felt between two worlds, not belonging to either. Because I am not a super-Christian, or as vibrantly expressive in my faith in this place of deep spirituality. Because I grew up overseas, I can get close to but not never quite relate with people here. [Do not get me wrong, people here are amazing, just the belonging is not quite there.] Home is where the heart is, but if the heart is reluctantly extirpated where is home? [I know I know, my family is still there. Duh, home is always with them but...you get what I mean.] 'Sigh, the human need to sense belonging.

I noticed that in the times I am feeling the most melancholy is sometimes when people laugh most at what I say. Kind of counter-intuitive I guess. But I guess humor makes it easier to hide.

Sometimes I wish I were like those people that write inspiring things or revelations from life that move people to live life differently or to think about stuff. Or to at least write about relevant things that matter, based on the constant outcry of pain and suffering in the world exacerbated by apathy and inaction.

Going back to living different lives than my friends...a difficult thought was, would I have lived any differently had I been in their situation? What foolish decisions would I have made, or even if I were put in them now would I fall?

Well that concludes for now. I thought I had much more to write when I started but this is what managed to leak out of my fumbled mind.