I’m back. I’m sorry I’ve been absent for so long. I’ll try to be better about posting on this blog. I’ve been thinking a lot about the plans people make. Everyone has their career choice in mind, or at least an idea. I’m graduating in the spring and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. I think the issue isn’t what I’m going to do though. I think the issues lies within the planning. I have friends that work non-stop, striving for the chance to become what they’ve always dreamt about becoming. A lot of them, however, don’t think about the cost of what they’re chasing after. They only see the education they need to acquire and then assume they will fall into that profession. However, they don’t see the cost of things. Do they think about the cost of school up to that point? Do they think about the cost of all the supplies they will need, or insurance for what they are doing? Of course not, because to them, the dream is to just become rich or famous. They don’t factor in the amount of their lives they are giving up to be able to be rich or be famous. I think that one should give up only as much of their life as necessary and nothing more. Instead, that person or people should spend their life, living. What’s the point of living when you’re young if you spend the entire time caught up in studying or staying at a temporary job before you enter into your career? Why put so much effort into staying young when you yourself aren’t willing to live your life when you’re young. Our days are numbered on this earth, so we need to spend them well. Stop worrying about the nonsense of being super wealthy so you can afford five houses. Instead, focus on spending time with loved ones and traveling; making memories. When we look back on life and we stare into the video of our lives, do we really want to watch ourselves breaking our backs for a career, or cramming our heads with useless information? I’m not saying knowledge is pointless, because it’s not. We should acquire as much as we can, but some knowledge isn’t found in books. Some knowledge is found out in the world and if we spend our lives stuck in books, we may miss out on some of the most vital information. Don’t waste your life. Live your life.
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Sometimes I feel like my opinion isn't noticed. It's like I'm the one that says something and then people chuckle and move from it. I feel like I can't truly express myself because of the people I surround myself with. Whether it be about music or television or food. I just wish I would be heard more rather than pushed aside as nothing. People have gotten really good at nodding and saying yes or yeah around me. I need it to stop. Like I've said before, I need something big, something moving to happen soon, or I might just explode.
Have you ever felt like you were running in water; swimming upstream? Has it ever been exhausting living your day to day? Sometimes, to me, it feels like I have no escape, like I'm running along the side of a ring, forced to chase the end of the circle forever. I wake up and go to a job that I hate to get me through school for a degree I'm unsure about. It's like each person is to present an incredible talent to a high ruler and when I arrive, my talent is just being able to be a mediocre musician, writer, speaker, and person in general.
Not only does it feel endless for no cause, but I'm trapped in a blindly racist bubble that isn't even aware of its own racism because society has implanted standards and ideals of how life should play out. When people imagine a perfect wedding on a perfect day in the perfect place to the perfect person, people don't have an image of someone like me. The issue is, we live in this place where the dominating religion, education system, and business latter all have made a point that perfection is a rich, handsome/beautiful, talented, charismatic person. There are many of those things I don't fall under as well as many others. People don't see an Asian guy and think "man of my dreams". They see a strange guy from a strange land that most likely doesn't speak English. Well, I'll set the record straight. I was born in Korea, but I grew up here, I study English and am currently pursuing a degree in English. I am as much an American as anyone else, so quit your racism --blatant or not! The same thing applies to other cultures. A black man is just a black man. Just because someone is Hispanic doesn't mean they are necessarily poor, dirty, or Spanish-only speakers. Overall, I just wish this place that I'm attempting to be comfortable in would recognize me as its own. Unfortunately, I can't stand this place for the very reasons I described. I need to get out. I need an escape. Rejection is never easy. Rejection is one that is full of excuses.
"I see you as a friend." "You're more like a brother to me." "I'm in love with your best friend." "My parents don't like you." "I just want to be single for a while." Why does time or location get to decide the fate of two people. If I could fall in love with a country on the opposite side of the world that I knew nothing about and didn't even know existed just five years ago, why is it that something so simple as a religious mission or a job or even the oceans divide two people from each other? The way I see it, we are two separate people who are from opposite ends of the earth and by some chance happened to meet in a certain place at the correct time and were both able to say the right things. Only one day of interaction, yet years later, fate brought us back to each other. Of all the places on this side of the earth, this is the place that is found. No matter what anyone tells me, I believe that to be the stars lining up or something. We only get few chances to see the plan of God so clear. First off, I know what everyone is thinking. The typical reaction is either, "oh I love that book..." or "GAAYYY!!" Well, I will say, I was forced to read this book, the first time around. The second time, I read it to clarify things for a paper I was reading and because, honestly, I enjoyed it. I'm now on my third read through and it's a good book. I meant to read it the third time before the movie, but only got half-way through. Second off, I don't see movies. I'm not a movie-goer and when I have time to sit and hang out, I typically don't enjoy staring into a digital representation of moving images, especially with friends. I can stare at screens on my own time, but when I give time to friends, I want to interact. Okay, so the initial thought about this movie is "total chick flick" or "uber depressing". However, I like this book because it's not a "chick flick". Yes, it has romantic stuff girls like, but it's not a happily ever after movie. It's very sad and depressing. Still, while the movie and book are both incredibly sad and tear-jerky, I think the main purpose is that "pain demands to be felt". ***SPOILER ALERT*** I guess I'll put that there. The movie is about a girl named Hazel Grace that has cancer. She meets Augustus who has had No Evidence of Cancer for over a year. He invites her over to his house to watch a movie, but then they trade favorite books. Hazel's favorite book is called "An Imperial Affliction" by Peter Van Houten. The book is about a girl named Anna that has cancer and when the story is getting heated, it ends midsentence. Augustus uses his wish to take Hazel to Amsterdam to meet the author and ask about the missing bits of the end of the story. The man turns out to be a drunk with no manners. When they get back to Indiana, Augustus confesses to Hazel he has cancer again and he is dying. At his funeral, Van Houten shows up and tries to communicate with Hazel about the book, but she doesn't care. Then she finds out that Augustus had written some stuff for Hazel. She finds the papers and finds out it is his Eulogy for her. The end is "You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers." Then her silent reply, "I do, Augustus. I do". The movie, incredibly enough, followed the storyline almost exactly. Of course, a couple minor characters, lines, etc were left out, but the main purpose and emotion and power of the novel was beautifully conveyed in the film. The actors were awesome, the music was perfect. My only problems in the movie were simple lines that I loved in the book. "I fear oblivion like the proverbial man who is afraid of the dark." "My thoughts are stars that I cannot fathom into constellations" "Pain is like fabric, the more of it there is, the more it is worth it." Overall the movie was awesome. A lot of these YA books become really good movies. Sometimes, we can't comprehend the purpose that God intends for us. Once, a long time ago, I was that awkward kid that sat in the back of class, doodled and attempted to write poetry for the songs that danced in my thoughts. Once, I stood at the gate entrance to an open field and walked slowly, hoping that time would slow down and the warm wind would embrace me. I felt the tickling grass on my ankles, the beating sun from above, rushing winds spin about in a chaotic dance. I stood and stared at the other side and imagined how, I was looking at a place that when I would arrive, I would be a different person than the one standing and staring. Even that gaze, so quick, so fleeting, so unnoticed, took a part of my strange life. I once followed the path and then another time, I strayed. The words on each page, in every conversation, taken in in one way or another has been another passing moment and the phrases that became sentences that became stories and adventures all became another year in my life. The years passed and each new year I look back at the person that just sat and stared, looking forward to a different time. I look back at that person each year and think how pathetic he is. I think about the time I didn't understand, or the time I felt alone, or scared. I remember the guilt I bore and the success I achieved. I look back and hope that next time I look back, I'll feel better about that shadow staring at a new future. Even now, I look to a new future, where new people may enter my life and I will learn to take the strange and awkward emotions I have and discard them because the now is always changing. Regardless if I make a fool of myself or cry or stumble, the next moment will change and if I make a fool of myself for a good cause, then the outcome will hopefully be good as well. My life along with music, creativity, playing, jamming, doodling, laughing, chatting, eating, deciding, and moving forward will remain with me forever. Life is an adventure, meant to be explored with no regrets. Take action and enjoy every moment.
I apologize for my absence from this blog. I will try my best to continue updating it regardless if my schedule gets a little hectic.
Thank you! Matthew After the domination by the Seattle Seahawks in Superbowl 48, I felt like I had to say some things. First off, this was my first year following the NFL closely. Before Preseason, my buddy and I decided to follow football this year and more clearly, we chose teams we would follow. He chose the San Francisco 49ers. I chose the Seattle Seahawks. Now, I don't know why I chose them. It may be because I love the city of Seattle. It may be because I feel some connection there considering I spent around a year there in an adoption agency. Either way, I chose the Seahawks. All season long, I followed the Seahawks, learned about them and considered myself a 12, but I never was able to see a game. I had work, or church or homework. Finally, they played in the Divisionals against New Orleans Saints. My friends and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the event. In the NFC Championship Game they played against the 49ers and won. Learning their history, I understood that Quarterback, Russell Wilson was only second year in and the Hawks had only made it to the Superbowl one other time with Shaun Alexander back in 2005. When Eli the Orangutan predicted Seahawks to win the Superbowl, I got excited. Now that they take home the Lombardi Trophy, I am happy for them and all the other 12's that have followed them a lot longer than I have. Russell Wilson, second year Quarterback, Marshawn Lynch, Derrick Coleman, Richard Sherman, Golden Tate, Jermaine Kearse, Malcolm Smith, Percy Harvin, and other Hawks deserved the win. Congratulations!
My friend and I were discussing gay rights which was sparked by a News Feed on Facebook stating that Disney Channel was introducing their first gay couple. My friend's responses mostly had to do with how gays are incredibly judgmental about anyone except another gay. Although, I agree with him to a degree, I don't see a reason to assume all gays are exactly like the two or three my friend had met. It's hard to be something different. I know growing up in America as a Korean-born, I felt a lot of the same feelings. People don't see you as a human being, but rather something foreign that should be avoided. Especially since my friend is the most advantageous of people. He is a white male living in America. I believe in rights for people regardless if it's a fad or if they're rude. I believe the human race should treat members of its own kind as human beings not viruses or plagues out to harm. I believe in black rights, white rights, Asian and Mexican rights, gay and lesbo rights, women rights, men rights. As far as you are a legal citizen, why should you be treated as if you have invaded. It's much like World War 2 when Hawaii was attacked by the Japanese, suddenly the citizens that lived within the United States were enemies to the country. We need to rethink the way we treat people.
Part One: Arrival
I can feel something; something pulling at me, something invisible, like a ghost. I cannot see, only blackness can I grasp, barely within reach. I cannot feel, only the tugging sensation on my heart; my soul. What does this apparition; this fiend, want with me and how am I to stop it? I feel so helpless. My heart throbs like the running of a race and then it stops, or so I think. The sudden plummet of all sense misguides me. The air, trees, shimmering flecks of light, everything is blurring around me. I am lost. The dragging continues, like a biting or gnawing at my innards. In a quick moment, all nonsense and chaotic thrash stops. In what felt like a century of torment and suffering, sense returned to my mind. Lunacy melted away with a sort of calm drifting slowly about me. My eyes struggle to open, but finally do, only to see darkness once again. It’s unending. However, this darkness is not nearly as black as the shadow that hung over my eyes prior to waking. I know I am here, whereas before it felt as if I ceased to exist, hung among the voids of darkness. It was thick like a heavy fog. It’s gone now, and I guess that’s all that matters. I sit up, using my tired hands to assist me. The ground beneath me is soft and slightly moist. My hands sink into the material like it’s a sponge. Where am I? This place I don’t recognize as a place I’ve visited before. It doesn’t feel like I am intoxicated and I just hope I didn’t get in trouble with people I shouldn’t have. Streams of pain stretch along my spine. Maybe I was abducted and dumped here. My mind was beginning to wander. One question produces new questions which all lead to me arguing with myself in my head. Whatever the reason, I have to figure out where I am and how to escape. Maybe this is one of those torture chambers with no end; an enclosed abyss with a prisoner left to wander aimlessly forever. The chamber must be like a fish tank, with each end becoming a dead end, but without me ever knowing. I shake the though from my mind. I notice trees towering over me in all directions; trees as tall as the reach of the sky, it seems. Only flickers of dim light glow my surroundings, much like a dying firefly. They dance gracefully in a swaying pattern, breaking through the canopy of leaves, moving all in unison. As I lift myself from my intended grave, or maybe landing strip from a chaotic night, the soles of both of my feet cringe in a stinging pain like needles penetrating my bones. I notice a small wall, probably shin-high, a few meters behind me. Aged dirt slightly discolors the cold-colored stone. It looks much like the wall is meant to create a mini bridge over a small flow of water. It’s the dry season, so only trickles of water survive the scorching heat. Perpendicular to the stream is a path, which crosses over the bridge and crawls wildly through the maze of trees and vanishes. Although the path doesn’t appear to have been used recently, it still shows signs of civilization. The air, I notice has brightened up a bit. More light is better than no light. Wherever that path leads, it must be going somewhere. If the path was used even in the past decade, it should mean that people are coming from somewhere or going to another place. Either way, I know I need to find one or the other. I decide to follow it follow the direction the shadows point. That way, if the sun does rise, it’s not burning my eyes out. Part Two: Visitor I head out and snake my way along with the guiding trail. My shadow stretches far ahead of myself like a tall shadowy character. He seems to be slithering across the ground preparing the way. However, with each passing moment, the shadow shrinks until it’s almost nonexistent. As the sun peaks in the sky, I am forced to tighten my eyes. Even with the overhead blanket of leaves and plant life, plenty of light breaks through and makes it difficult to focus. The constant flickering due to canopy acts almost as strobe lights flashing right over my eyes. In a short break, I sit up against a large rock and stare up towards the high noon sun. The canopy is silhouetted into a kaleidoscope of monochrome. Black and whites flash in my pupils even after looking away. I realized staring at the sun was a bad idea, so I decide to just stare into the dirt in front of me. That’s when I saw him, or her, or it. Whatever it is, I think it may be my way back. With that, I got to my feet and followed the direction of the figure I had seen. It had passed by so quickly, I wasn’t sure what it was. I recall it looking like a shadow, but anything was hard to see after staring at sunlight long enough. It moved like a human, with paced strides, carefully placed footsteps. However, it wasn’t walking at a normal pace, it was at least power walking, but more like a jog. It was jogging in a walking manner. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone jog-walk. In pursuit of the shadowy figure, I found it again, but it seemed to notice my presence. The jog-walk continues, almost too smoothly. I don’t believe what I’m seeing. Now, my curiosity has increased immensely. What is this thing that seems to be running from me? Why won’t it turn around, and what’s it doing here? The ground slowly becomes an incline and the once nice dirt path seemed to sprout large, awkward, rocks. I stumble up the incline, chasing a shadow like an idiot. Is this really happening? I feel myself losing purpose. Climbing through the mess of stones, I watch the shadow suddenly vanish. Where did it go? It must be playing games with me. I finally reach the peak, but fall into a sudden drop-off where loose sand slides down in a slippery descent. The smooth sand drags me downward. I feel captive to its shifting grasp. I fall to the edge of an old highway, littered with leaves like a natural blanket. Standing on my side of the road, my eyes notice a woman, still quite young; her skin like delicate fabrics, so soft and smooth. Golden caramel locks of hair sway down covering the majority of her face. She taunts me, I can see it. I don’t know why, but my uncontrollable body is being urged in her direction. The skin near her waist peeks from a tight shirt, slightly lifted up from her body’s edifice. The closer I get, the more attractive she becomes. She dances in a way that begs me to fall before her feet. There were small cuts and tears in the cloth of her pants, revealing small patches of exposed flesh. I’ll ask her where a city or town is, although, it feels like I’m getting nearer. With only a few steps before I reach this goddess, my mind runs wild. I can imagine making this woman my bride and a beautiful life with her. I don’t necessarily love her, but there’s some tug on my heart. The craziest thing is I recognize her face. It’s a thing so familiar, yet I cannot identify it. My hand reaches out to stroke her arm; to feel her, but with a smooth motion, it passes straight through her skin. I am left with a cold shivering feeling in my hand. I am taken aback. How can this be? She is clearly human being standing directly in front of me. This can’t be; I must be having some sort of hallucination. I step backwards in confusion. Having better view of this gorgeous woman, scanning her figure from her feet and steadily upward towards her head, she changes. Slowly, her image, smiling slightly at me, fades away like the stars at dawn. I stare desperately at where her eyes were just a few seconds earlier. Standing in the distance, behind where she had been, there almost mocking me, stands that shadow I had somehow managed to forget. It lifts its head, but a cloth hood veils the face and then it runs recklessly to the far side of the road. I, also, dart across the road and run continually toward the silhouette; the faceless figure. Part Three: The Devil’s Playground The opposite side of the road declines into a cement gulley used normally to regulate water transportation. However, the time of season lacks in water supply. A tiny stream littered with nature’s trash; leaves and such, leads straight into a dark endless-looking tunnel. Just beyond the tunnel is a small cave. Unsure of the whereabouts of the figure, I decide to crawl into the cave, feeling like a child playing games. The cave walls shrink inward and the ceiling falls heavy towards me, as if the cave were alive and trying to crush me with each moment. Thin light beams shine through the crevasses and natural holes that time and moisture have not yet filled. Humidity and the chemical toxins of the cave burn my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. At this point, I’m army crawling through the puddles of ancient mud, closing in on the source of the light. A thin hole in the wall forces me to hold my breath while I pull desperately through. A large cavern chapel of stalactites and stalagmites create the vision of a large church, designed with natural pillars lining every wall. This is the end of the cave. Near the front of the room, the formations of the cave made a structure, much like an altar. Sitting on the altar is the emanation of light. As if a gift or offering, displayed so coincidentally is a large golden sculpture of an angel. The wings reach far out to either side of its body and a halo looms down over its head. The angel is kneeling, with both hands clasped together in prayer. I inch closer to feel it, but when my hand touches one of the wings, the angel cries. It’s not normal tears, but instead blood begins to flow from its closed eyes. What the hell? This must be devised of the devil. Without any more thought of taking it, I turn and in quick motion, force my way through the tiny hole and crawl as quickly as possible out of the cave. The walls expand again and I stand in a crouch, still running. The cave opens up and I trip and fall into the drying river just outside of the rocky gate to hell. I look back to see if this devil is chasing after me, but there’s no cave. No sign of a cave. Had I imagined all that? No. I know I saw that angel…or that devil. The cave had squeezed me inward, towards the damned Devil himself, disguising himself as a golden angel. Damn fiend. I stand up and fearfully walk away from the location of the cave; the hellish torment which entered into the presence of the banished one. I look skeptically at the tunnel before me. Is this another trap; another gate of hell, drawing me in? Is that shadow the devil or a spawn of the devil? Why the hell am I so ignorantly chasing a vision; an image of something much more evil than I could even know? As I enter the black, I can feel a moist wall build around me in the air. My lungs start heaving with the feeling of giving in and collapsing, much like in the cave. I don’t know if I should continue, but it’s not nearly as crammed in here. Stumbling about, I come upon a gradual incline of rocks, again using both hands to crawl up this mess of earth until reaching the edge where I can once again see peeks of light. There it is; silhouetted so conveniently. The shadow perches neatly on a bridge-like structure. I can see the outline of its face turn to me and as if beckoning me to follow, falls; falls into an abyss. Senseless and unaware of my actions, I willingly join it, leaping into the unknown. Now, I wonder, while falling about my conclusion soon approaching. Maybe I have been chasing an illusion to only come upon my own demise. Falling; it seems like a slow-motion replay. Over and over, I feel the action of lunging from safety into nothing. Then, without hesitation, my body splashes into deep cold water. I scramble to the surface to catch my breath. What if this goes on endlessly however, like a trap? I shut my eyes and almost give up hope, but the current lifts my limp body up into reality. I gasp like my life depends on it and slowly gather myself again. I spin my soaking head around to adjust to my new surroundings, but catch a drift of the vilest odor. Swimming out toward the shore, I see that damned shadow taunting me. Exiting the black and closing in on the shore, I notice a huge detail. The light gives much new perspective on one’s surroundings. The water I had been stirring about in, was in fact, not water at all. The crimson shore screamed of death and horror. Once free from the chilled and gruesome river, I launch myself at this shadow, but it vanishes. I slide to the edge of the mountain. The loose sand beneath my sore feet suddenly shifts and I tumble through sagebrush and other plant life. I pick myself up slowly and in pain, glancing around. Giant pine trees tower in every direction, standing far above my ability of sight. I think to myself how crazy this is. Why am I chasing a shadow; a figure I do not even recognize? I feel like a pawn in the game of cat and mouse. Where does this image want me to go? What am I supposed to see? It brought me here, so I am going to find out what it wants. There is no specified trail here, so I follow a sort of lining the trees make. Then I see it again, this time sprinting, but in my direction. My mind is now made up; I will stand my ground and will not back down. A large dark hood is shading the face of the figure charging me. I cannot see hands; in fact, I cannot see any flesh on this creature. What the hell is this? I crouch myself in a defense position. It gets closer and closer. Thump! Thump! My heart echoes a sound only I can hear. Thump! Thump! The motion of the beast seems so quick, but slow at the same time. Thump! Thump! The figure is nearly right in front of me and I am close upon success of identifying this vision; this illusion. Silence dominates in this moment, even my heartbeat chokes in anxiety and fear. At its last step, the figure takes a left and in a flash, is a quarter of a mile to my right. I chase it once more and for several moments on the same path of a dirt trail, my fears affix themselves to my every thought. My breath is loud in my ears. I look at the trail, recognizing this strange and bewildering pathway. Why does it feel like a rush of déjà vu? I have never been here. I try to convince myself; persuade my mind to reject this idea. Then, in a swift motion, I spin around and resume my pursuit. Twenty feet from my previous position lay the beginning of a small concrete wall on either side of the path. Examining the opposite of one wall, I find a shoe print. Reaching for my shoe, I slowly remove it, matching the sole to the impression in the dirt. Suddenly, my head begins spinning. I see a shadow; it is approaching me slowly. It lifts its hood to reveal its true identity. I am taken aback at the person standing in front of me. I stand face to face with my own worst enemy; me. I had been chasing myself all this time and for what? There must be a reason. As if understanding my thoughts, the reflection of me steps to the side. I almost cry from fear and regret. Why is she here? What is this supposed to mean? I hurt her. I caused her terrible pain. I was selfish. I cared; I was only scared of you. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” Jennifer’s voice, audible like a distant echo, but so loud in my ears, is so sweet; even to this day. My face is drowned in tears; tears of regret, but tears of joy. “Goodbye. I have to go.” Jennifer steps backward and I shout out for her not to leave, all the light, everything blurs and pulls away from me. I am lying in darkness once again. Sitting up, my body aches. I put my hand out to stand myself up, but gravity spites me and I fall. This time however, I fall maybe one foot off of my bed. Joy fills my entire body to know I escaped. My face is still wet with tears. I only whisper her name in the air, “Jennifer.” |
AuthorMatthew Petrucci characterizes himself as a kind and friendly person. Writing, music, and any sort of artistic hobby suits Matthew as entertainment and enjoyable. He embraces close friendships and remains true and loyal to those who take him in. Archives
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