Irreversible

Wiping away fears with fate
We all had our own expectations
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them away

Let this empty, traveling soul loose
Things that can't be seen won't be released
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them away

Dark azure blue is so brilliantly backlit
Black skies are the last memories
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them away

Warm expressions, oppressive silence
Brilliant summer secrets kept in spring
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them away

Gukkasten twinkles in the eyes,
Colors, dimensions, mirrors, common things
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them away

Chasing the rising and setting of the moon
Long nights spent alone in the midst of wintertime
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them all away

Words are valued like a speck of dirt
As the passing ghosts become the distractions
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them all away

This is a diamond of brilliant youth, these were the stars
This facet of reckless abandon and wonder, reflections
But let's fade them, fade them, fade them all away.



-Argentia

Honorable Mention

This year I have placed in the Chautauqua Creative Writing Contest with Honorable Mention. I'm pretty happy because this is the third year in a row that I've placed in the contest. I wrote this poem on the last night of Summer 2012 at the Outer Banks, North Carolina. I was listening to 'She's Leaving' by Orchestra Maneuvers in the Dark and I typed the last words at a few minutes to midnight. The poem, though somewhat vague, contains many of the memories I have of last summer, one of the best summers I've ever had. Each thing corresponds to a memory, from the imagery of the sea, sand, and stars down to the very face of the man I named 'Summer'. The feelings I had while writing this poem were extremely hard to describe-bittersweet is the closest I can come. 

I hope you enjoy this edited version that I submitted into the contest.

He’s Leaving

Black hair framing a gentle face, skin kissed by the sun

Black eyes that glitter with childish whims

He gives me a bright grin, showing crooked teeth

And I find I must smile softly back at him

I met him on the warm streets in the evening

Beneath the glorious moon, in front of a magical place

His white button-down un-tucked, his black slacks wrinkled

A winning smile plastered on his dreamy young face

In that single moment, I knew there was nothing to be done

I couldn't tell him to leave or to stay

His suitcase hung over his shoulder as he walked alone

The man made his way into my heart that day

Tonight, that heart feels like it will shatter, each piece a memory

The warm pavement, afternoon ice cream, evening walks

Each moment of freedom, each whisper of romance he brought me

All of them to disappear with his absence

He takes my hand and leads me out onto the still, quiet beach

'Let's take a walk?' he entreats with puppy-eyes

'I can't, it's cold,' but without a word, across my shoulders his arms reach

His warmth is like the fiery sun; boldly passionate, gently reassuring

He hums a sweetly sad tune under his breath

I inch a little closer to him and catch the faint thumping of his heart

As the waves beat against the shore in a choppy rhythm like our thoughts

I clutch the slightly weathered fingers of his brown hand tighter

'Ouch, you're squeezing', but I don't care, the thoughts of his leaving cloud my good judgment

He continues to ignore my silence, chatting about the sea, the skittering creatures, the winds

The stars are a parade of celestial wonders, marching to God's alignment

My lonesome heart replays the song of life in it's fullest bloom

He stops, his feet buried in the sandy ground, and he sighs, like he's afraid of it himself

He takes his arm from my shoulders and bows his head of black, windswept hair

'I've got to go now,' he explains in his painfully quiet voice, barely above a whisper

I try my hardest to look at him and nod, but I feel angry and upset inside

'For how long?' I ask, but before I receive an answer, his lips touch mine

A brief peck of a kiss, rushing pulse, scattered emotions, overwhelmed in the sensation

Summer lets my hand slip from his

And turns away.

-Argentia

Tamaki Suoh+Thoughts on Love

Haruhi's mom...I like Haruhi. 
I love that she goes at her own pace, that she's a bit apathetic. I love when she smiles. When she is so angry that it becomes scary, I love that, too. She is stubborn, but kind, more than any other person I've ever met. She's honest and always trying her best. She seems to be able to look into one person's heart and see what's the most important thing. I love every side of her. I'm still an immature person, but...from now on, I want to be by her side and keep on supporting her. That's why, please mother, look after her, even if in order to pursue her dreams, she were to go somewhere very far from here.
-Tamaki Suoh, Ouran High School Host Club, Chapter 82


When I first read Ouran High School Host Club, I became convinced after finishing that Tamaki was the most loving, spectacular, mind-blowingly attractive guy in the whole manga world. I wished he could come out of that paper and walk into my life because the love he developed was so comprehensive, so captivating, so moving. He accepted Haruhi as the quiet, deadpan, dependable person she was, and she in turn grew to accept his talkativeness, hair-brained ideas, and highly emotional way of relating to others and attaching himself to them with super-sticky glue and lots of squeel-y hugs.
Now, almost two years later, I came across this quote and I realized that the experience of reading Ouran helped to shape some of my expectations for a boyfriend at a time in my life when I felt rather directionless (yeah, I'm getting all Sociology here-wait for it, the Conservative Christian is coming out now! hahaha). However, I have also come to realize that Tamaki's love is not perfect. It is a totally human love. An insufficient love. Tamaki is great, yeah. He's a great character to daydream about becoming real, and if a real one does eventually walk into my life, he's going to have a fighting chance of becoming very special to me. But he'll still be insufficient.
I probably seem pretty hard to satisfy at this moment, don't I? That's because I know of a sufficient love, a love more amazing than all others, a love that blows away all expectations, from those for parents to those for future husbands. God's love. Reading this comic, this secular Japanese comic, I was still brought to think about how Christ is perfect and yet, with all of our imperfections and frustrations, He loves us. And so many of us, in searching for that kind of perfect love in an imperfect person forget the love of the only truly perfect Person. We forget about the most sufficient, forgiving, understanding, deep love EVER.


So...that's my rant for the day. Love Tamaki, people. He's an epic guy. XD

 

-Argentia

Of Boys and Making People Hate Me!

So...

I've been working at Wendy's. We covered that. The thing we didn't cover, past my fscination with my co-workers, is the fact that quite suddenly, and without much warning, my co-workers have started to talk to me. Perhaps they were fascinated by me for a little while, too? I like to entertain that thought...
At any rate, I have talked with one older lady, who looks to be in her 40s or 50s (I'm a horrible judge of age), and an 18-year-old boy. I am frequently teased by two 20-something boys who seem to compete over the right to drive me crazy during lunchtime (and longer if I stick around). It's relatively comical and makes the workday pass more quickly, though a few times it gets a little awkward. Not quite as awkward as being asked for your number on the first day of college classes, though. *grin*
However, I enjoy studying the different personalities of my coworkers, and not surprisingly, I get along with the boys best. Almost every girl there seems to always be angry, as if everything I do is not sufficient, according to her expectations of me. I really want to be a good worker, and them being so tense makes me extremely nervous around them, whereas the boys tend to forgive my mistakes easily (they're bad multitaskers, too!). Two in particular even manage to laugh at their own and other's mistakes during rushes. Honestly, it's really the only way to keep your sanity and your good mood intact.
 I don't want to paint all of the girls in bad colors (or all the boys in good ones). There are a few who are genuinely interested in teaching me things and talking with me, and there are some very tense dudes working there. However, girls can not only be stressful to be around, but they can be really exasperating in their choices of conversation topics. Take for instance my conversation with a girl and my workfriend, the 18-year-old boy.
Him: "I only have one minute of break left! What should we do?!"
Me: "The clock is ticking...tick, tock, tick, tock. Think of something to talk about fast!!!"
Both of us laugh at each other. We're funny folks, you know (that is like the least funny thing I've ever done)! :P
Girl: "You know, you two would make a super-cute couple.
Me: *chuckles softly and turns away out of extreme awkward*
Him: *awkward half-smile*

I can't remember what he said. He very well may like me. But she really must have had nothing more going on in her brain or was told by him to say that. Grrr. Girls. People. Augh. It's remarkable, honestly. The only time I would ever do that is when I really really feel like the two people are absolutely perfect together and just seem oblivious to it (aka, know eachother really well, unlike myself and this guy), or when I want to make them hate me.

I must confess something horrible- I've never felt the need to make someone hate me.

Lastly, I realize I am a girl. Perhaps this means I dislike myself?

:P
-Argentia-

Accomplishments

I just made my first international call...ever.
I tried dialing the number given and it didn't work, so I dialed 0, which in my country is the operator (also a first time for me).She asked a few questions. I gave a few answers. I felt like I was thrust back in time, using  the power of the telephone as if this sort of calling had just been invented, like I was one of the first to use it. I can tell you by the voice of this operator that she hasn't had a call like this in a while, and she directs me to an international office.
In a few moments, I am connected at the astounding rate of $8 operator fee (to pay her for her efforts behind the desk all day) and $3.42 a minute.
I just want to record this feeling-speaking across thousands of miles via a phoneline. An electrical phoneline. Speaking to someone that far away-it's like communicating with someone far out in the galaxy.

Yes, I've made international Skype calls with other people-that's nothing compared to this, because this time, I experienced a completely different feeling from ever before. A feeling of awe, of complete wonder, at the simple idea that I was speaking to someone an entire ocean away. 

That alone was enough to make me feel...different.





Note: My mom says that nowadays they of course use satellite to do international phone calls. I think my meaning remains the same?

-Argentia