I know why the caged bird sings

This is a poem by one of my favorite poets of all times!

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

True Bliss

Willing-ness to take a pen and scribble a bunch of nonsense on tables,chairs,papers and walls. The content never legible enough for the rest of the world to comprehend. That is me. Yes, I am completely immature, child-like and mind blowingly silly. Yet, the pase at which I can shed it all and compose myself is quit impressive.
How can it be that both these aspects of me have desires of their own. As though my fist sized heart is divided into two; a side for the little girl while the other belongs to the young woman. Strange? or is it that all of us share this absurd claim. Does this mean that I am mentally deranged? Oh well, who cares?

Some of my recent choices have caused a few raised eye brows...I laugh at people's reactions. When they ask me "why would you do that?" I reply "I don't know" that is the truth, most of the time I don't know why I do certain things a certain way. For instance I started planning for the courses I will be taking next quarter. I decided that I wanted take up Hebrew as my language, tell me why whomever heard this had a frown and a wtf is wrong with you look on their faces. I had to laugh. Or when I decided I wanted to be a nurse my father almost had a heart attack. The list goes on and on! Maybe I should say I'm shaving my head! Even better, dye it purple! =)

Winter is right round the corner and it gets colder by the week so I realized since I'm going to be operating a vehicle soon, I will need to buy a car! I've been hearing all sorts of stories about driving on ice, I am scared to crash! A tanker is what is best for me. That way no skidding or sliding.

I can't wait till the darn quarter gets over. I can't wait to get on the plane and head to see my grandma! I miss her, I get my shortness from her. =)The true fun will begin then!Don't get me wrong, Columbus is good but I haven't gotten the chance to explore it's true potential yet. No worries, I got 2 years to do that!

In the end, I am tired and need to get a little bit of sleep, big day today! I've been waiting for this moment ever since I got here! Fingers crossed and hopes high.

I need band aid....

A hostage to unsettling emotions. I strived to pretend that everything was wonderful. I was not lying to you when you asked me how I was doing, I really did believe I was doing great. But then I realized that I was wrong. I am messed up! I've become needy and dependent and pathetic like. I wonder, was I always like this? It seems impossible, but my current situation taunts me. I am craving for freedom as well as independence. I know it takes time and I can't rush it, I have to take it slow. I suppose this is what it means stepping put of your comfort zone. For the very first time, I feel like a new born. Yuck!


For the million-th time I was hurt again. Will the monsters stop coming after me? or is this how it's going down? I feel like I can write a book spilling what's going on in my head and it still wouldn't be enough. My big brown eyes will never go without having to pour a gallon of tears. But for a messed up person, I think I handle it pretty well. After all these injuries, you will hardly find things that hurt me. =)

I know that I said that I would discontinue writing, but the truth of the matter is, writing liberates me. Whether I'm good at it or I no better than a Chinese person learning english for the first time, writing is my therapy. I remember when I was a child, whenever I had a bad day,upset about something or I was having a wonderful day, I would write it down on a piece of paper and then throw it away or rip it off. I would spill my heart out before I did that. Afterwards I would feel good! May sound odd but it made sense to me then.

And so I wonder, how does one get over their troubles? How do you beat the blues? And how do you hang on in there when it seems like the monsters are back for more?