I am in like with your mind.
I could read your words and listen to you speak for hours.
(Source: gimpersneverquit)
I could read your words and listen to you speak for hours.
(Source: gimpersneverquit)
There’s something comforting about the dark. Tear up, smile, dream all you want - and all those thoughts running through your mind won’t have to be laid bare for the world to see. That’s what I find myself in right now. I don’t really see the need for this post but I guess that is what this is, my thoughts spilling in the dark.
It feels good to finally have my night hours back to me again. The Reality Effect is like a huge breath I’m puffing out of my system. Saw my friend Sosie today, established we miss everyone in the cast and crew… but strangely enough, I’m good with that.
Peru was life-changing. I mean, that’s the only word that I think can best encompass everything that happened there. Even up to now, I’m still processing things. It was the most in touch I’ve ever been with God. I had such a close encounter with Him and have been ever since and I feel that my faith is in another level. But I also feel that the warfare is worse, much worse. Challenges are in a different wavelength; new tactics are in place, requiring reconfiguration of defense and offense. I’m probably not making sense. But that’s fine. It makes sense in the dark.
I’ve nursed my wounds for the past days. I feel that it’s about time to just let them be exposed to the air so they can heal. It’s about time that I move on from this phase I’m in. There are a lot of things I want to change about myself, to make myself better, not necessarily to other people’s eyes, but my own… which is tougher. Everyday you look in the mirror and see yourself, and it’s only you who know you exactly for who you are, strengths and flaws and all - and sometimes, or if you were me, most of the time, you’re not even sure.
This is getting long. And to be honest, I don’t understand how you can still be reading at this point - if you even exist. But thanks. Lie in the dark with me. Hear my heart. Maybe you can figure out what it’s saying?
It’s an illusion, Peter.
He was drawn into her blue eyes, those which reminded him of the ocean. And every time he looked, he wished she wouldn’t look away. He wished that the trance he’d always fall into would never end.
He fell in love with her voice. Her sweet melodies resonating through the core of his being. How he wished that her voice was for him to keep, that every time it would resound, its sole purpose would be to reach him… because, well, that’s what’d always happen. It would always feel like her voice tried to squeeze his heart, draining, exhausting him, as he focused all his energy on keeping himself together.
He fell in love with her hand, how firm they were, soft, cold, warm at the same time. He fell in love with the works of her hand, her commitment and willingness to exert effort, to get down to business and not care about herself. She was gracious, enveloping her character and turning her into this all-in-one lottery prize. She was rare.
But most importantly, he fell in love with her heart. She was so lost in God, so passionately seeking God’s will, which makes him think that perhaps he’d have to look for her inside God’s heart before he could find her. The exact faith made him want to step up his. He looked up to her. She was the figure that he wanted not only to have, but to be.
That was the conflict. The reason why he felt inadequate, the reason why all he was able to do was look, then look at himself and say, No chance. There was no way she could look at him and feel the exact same things. There was no way she could look at his eyes and want to stay in that trance forever. There was no way he could fall asleep to her voice every night. There was no way he could hold her hand and never let go. There was no way he could capture her heart the way she had captured his.
That was the conflict. He fell in love.
(Source: gimpersneverquit)
We’re now connected
only with laughters and videos and memories which
remain alive in my side.
Couldn’t even touch
couldn’t hug
couldn’t acknowledge right off the bat that
it’s been long since we’d last seen each other.
Promises of forgetting are broken
So now we suffer
the wall
thick
built between us,
like we can’t see,
like we don’t exist,
like we hadn’t once been family.
I missed you
and wished to pull you up
in a tight hug and a kiss
in the cheek
like when the day I first realized
you mean
/meant
something more.
This is a different story.
So maybe,
it will end here.
Saw a montage of you, and I had to look away. My heart is still palpitating, like I just saw someone I’m trying to get over. Those few seconds of exposure felt like I was prematurely peeling a scab, and the needles of pain shot to the surface of the wound saying I’m not ready. I am not healed fully. At least not yet.
That’s one of the reasons why I need to go back… one of the reasons why I won’t mind braving the snowy ground. I am hopeful that somehow, the thirty-degree chill will fire my heart again, and the uphills will bring me once again to my element. I can’t wait to displace you, like the rest of the phases I’ve been through. Give you a rest. Not let you make me worry about anything else but the present.
One more day.
My, how far you’ve come. You have no idea how proud of you I am. Right now you’re wondering where you’ll be and what you’ll be doing, but trust me: you’re gonna be fine. People told you that a couple of times, and probably some of them you didn’t believe. But you should know that you have an internal compass that has never failed you thus far. In fact, that compass is what led you to be me.
I understand that you have questions, but you should know that I have the same amount of questions as you do. Because honestly, you’ll never come across a time, or at least up to this point, when you won’t be constantly asking what’s next, or what you’re here for, or what you’re supposed to be doing. The only difference, I would think, is that now, you are pursuing something that you love. And sometimes, I get exhausted and frustrated. I have to work through challenges that were pre-set for me because of who I am. But at the same time, those quirks are what brought you, me here.
Promise me that you’re never gonna do less than your best. Overdeliver. Promise me that your heart won’t ever tire in fighting with your brain. Your brain sure knows what’s up, but it’s not the one that has led you to experience the life you have so far. Keep your faith - it’s the only thing that can keep you going. Even though you’ll hurt, don’t give up. Keep on going until these words come out from your mouth.
Look back and see how far you’ve come. You got this.
Do you think it’s still possible for you to know that you’re gonna marry someone the moment you meet her? Do you think it’s possible for you to be that sure that you’d be willing to wait that long, risk everything by not moving on to anyone else and just waiting for her to come to you? Do you think that’s possible?
Giving that expression one more time, smiling - no - flashing, bright eyes, deep eyes, gazing straight threatening to melt your core. Eccentric, full of sense of humor, thinking of ways to poke holes on a straight-wave existence. Shrug, nonchalant, not knowing that everything is working its ploy to capture you, get you thinking, get you feeling your dreams again.
The butterflies are back and they just reminded you that your dreams are scary. You are at odds with everything and your chance is inversely proportional to the amount of space you occupy. This time, you are not as blind. This time, you realize what if this really wasn’t the plan laid out for you… what if what you’re trying to reach is something God never meant for you, what if you’ll be tearing and driving and wishing and begging only to realize that you’re not supposed to go there, be here, be there?
How many years will I waste waiting?
How many rejections will there be before I get there?
You answer with no regrets. Live. You never know until you try.
Dec. 25 and this year’s winding down. I remember January 1 of this year and I was at Disneyland. For some reason, I knew that this was going to be a big year. And yes, it definitely was. 2011 turned out to be one of the biggest years of my life.
Roller coaster.
That feeling when you’re about to ride one. You’re scared and nervous and once you’re in the line with tons of people behind you, you know it’s gonna be hard to just back out and watch the rest of your friends go on the line and ride. Despite the fear nagging in your stomach, you’re excited anyway… and you know you might hate while you’re zooming by and dropping through heights, but the thrill and the rush would make everything worth it.
This year was exactly like that. Prior to this Disneyland trip I’d been so afraid of rides. I was so afraid of falling, the illusion of it or what have you. I was so scared of heights (still am) and it had caused me to back out and just wait until the rest of the folks go through the exit. But I guess this year was when I decided to step onto the seat and buckle up. I might “fall” and be scared to death, but that wouldn’t change the fact that I was caught within the strong steel arms of the ride belt; I was safe.
Graduating high school seems so long ago. And it has been barely six months since that transpired. Brown is amazing - everything I could ask for. I have never grown so much spiritually, emotionally, mentally, relationally - all while witnessing it happen right before my very eyes.
January 1 of this year, I told God it felt like 2011 was gonna be a big year. And yes, it was bigger than I expected it to be. But through all the euphoric celebrations of accomplishments and dreams realized, see-you-later tears, food, frustrations, hunger, rejections, opportunities, lessons learned and people met, He was there, faithful and full of grace as ever.
Five/six more days till this year’s over?
Breathe in Russyan.
The roller coaster is not ending soon.
(Source: gimpersneverquit)
And I can’t help but imagine what the rest of the four years will bring to me. I can’t fathom how much change I will go through - how many places I will visit and have great memories of, how many songs I will listen to, make, how many shows I’m going to see, star in, how much I will learn about Bio, Theater, relationships, talent, people, God, myself.
How many words will I share? And of those words, how many will matter?
How many hearts will I capture? And of those, how many will I keep?
How many times will I be close to the edge? How many times will I feel alive, with all the nerves of my existence throbbing in the idea that what I’m about to do will be significant, beautiful, worth remembering? I’m rambling. I guess this is just a post about how teching Dead City will end in a few hours. And how Alex Keegan really inspired me with her words. She was never an actress, but she was an assistant manager, a stage manager, now a director - I can see her footprints in Brown’s floor. And it makes me wonder where the seven semesters I have left will lead me. Am I delivering a message to actors or to the audience? Am I spending my time slicing rat brain?
Or will I be a completely different person on a completely different track?
I can only imagine.
