Saturday, December 21, 2013

"Dying Inside"-Cherry Sunsets Excerpt

(spoiler warning...for those who care about being spoiled...=P)
Our feet land in the miniature dunes with a barely detectable thumping sound. The little grains cling to the water droplets on Mat’s brown ankles. I glance down to see sand collecting between my ten wet toes and sticking to the damp hair on my legs. I look back ahead to Matias. His shoulders relaxed, his gait slow and even, each step he takes draws us further down the shoreline.  His feet kick up the white dust, sparkling with an ethereal splendor in the light of the setting sun. I observe how his ankles bend and the muscles of his legs flex as he treads the pathway by the seaside, seemingly not caring about the minutes passing, the crabs skittering about just in front of him, or myself, his silent shadow.
I think about the nicotine, the alcohol, the caffeine, and the cannabis in his blood and I wonder if the foreign chemicals ever leave his system.  But walking behind him, on the surface of his skin, he looks and feels so natural, so human, that the line between his humanity and mine feels all the more a starck contrast of reality versus fabrication. To live like that appears to me as utter self destruction, but at my core I know he has more freedom than I ever did. And furthermore, the price he pays to be free doesn’t  come as a consequence to this idiot spirit walking before me; instead, it is all part of the process of life. I don’t know what it is that makes him so outwardly tranquil; how does he mask  his pain so well? The voice of logic says the drugs in his head makes him this way, but how I long for a deeper explanation. I cannot think of any answer, so now I long to have a reason for my lack thereof. 
Why is it that he appears as if his entire body could dissolve into the sea and sand, as if he could become part of this ancient shore while I must dissolve into nothingness? Why am I so disconnected from everything in this universe, but he seems at harmony with all around him? Gosh, I just want to see him lose his temper once without a smile on his face. I want to see him get truly upset for once; I want to believe you can achieve this peaceful demeanor and still care something about the world around you.
That’s not possible, my voice of reason cries, he might look like he’s in it for the ride, but you know that he’s not okay at all on the inside. You understand that the only way he feels any peace at all is by cutting everyone else out of his life. His heart hurts so much that he’s hit the off-button, not to be bothered with it anymore. Yet he knows something is missing, so he hides the hole in his chest by filling it with things that lower his awareness of it. He’s a wreck; a horrible tragedy waiting to happen. Don’t wish you could be like him. His frail excuse for peace will all be over someday. Better to walk the highroad and climb the rocks than to close your eyes and pretend none of it exists.
“But he knows it all exists,” I mutter. Mat halts his walking and turns to face me. The sun, having already slipped out of view behind the dunes, casts the entire beach in a rainbow of sherbet orange, blood red, and rosy pink. The deep breath of the sea, exhaled from the farthest reaches of the earth, plays with the black waves adorning his forehead; the sun brings out the darkest copper tones of his flawless complexion.
But his eyes.  
His eyes, so brown I cannot tell iris from pupil, look like they are being tortured.
Fear. Loneliness. Anger. Doubt. Worthlessness. The darkest emotions known to man, burning to black ashes the heart of this nineteen-year-old little boy in front of me. Just beneath his skin, Mat is dying. He is terrified and alone. The climb doesn’t seem like the highroad, it seems like an eternal maze of dead ends. Broken dreams, failed new beginnings. Lost time, lost hearts, lost everything.
He can’t see the point in his birth anymore. He’s no good, he’s no future, he’s no love. He’s nothing.
Quite abruptly, I feel a pang in my heart; one I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s a sour but sweet feeling; so intense it makes me want to clutch my chest and drop to my knees, not simply out of pain but something between it and glorious happiness.
I feel love.


Wooooooaaaaah, some dark stuff tonight. Okay, maybe not by all definitions dark, but I tried. Well...lately, I've been pouring a lot into Mat and Jens, so maybe it's coming naturally. I sure hope this doesn't mean that Ryan is going to become a cardboard posterchild with no character. O_O Anyway, enjoy my little scrooge finally being a man about it and dealing with Mat's problems maturely. He hasn't been looking forward to burdensome Matias throwing off all of his issues on him, yet he knew early on that he wouldn't be able to resist caring about Mat in the future. XD
At any rate, sorry if the excerpt is comes from a point pretty far along in the two-week journey of these five housemates. :)

-Argentia Krystofel

Friday, December 20, 2013

Spaceship Lullaby

Close your blinking eyes and sleep
Dream the childish dreams of youth
The morning will be bright and hopeful
I promise, I pray, I plead, no evil will come

So spread your wings and soar alone
Your head rested against the cool pillows
Shut out the noise, calm your soul
Wrapped up in your blankets, just be

Child, child, don't be afraid, don't cry
This little game isn't so hard to win
Just open your eyes to the sun, moon, and stars
And you'll become a spaceship fueled by your heart

-Argentia Krystofel

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Why Lorde's Asian Boyfriend Matters

James and Ella

So, a number of my friends may have noticed I've been posting a lot about James Lowe, Lorde's Asian photographer boyfriend, on my Facebook recently. I'm sure more than a few of you wonder why the racist tweets and 'anti-Asian-male' talk bothers me.
First off, I might be a little biting in this post. Just a warning. 
Okay, to begin!
This racist tweeting was reported a few days ago, but I knew about James Lowe for several weeks beforehand. My mom also happens to really like Lorde, so she was the one to first discover James. I remember her telling me about him and showing me pictures. I thought nothing of it.
The rage online in November, although quiet, was that he is twenty-four. The universe gets uncomfortable with a seven year age gap these days, so of course I got angry about that. I am eighteen, but I tend to find conversation easier with men who are at least twenty. I don't know why. I think it's a fascination with people who are highly intelligent but mature to go with it (so they are responsible with their intellect). But anyway, I wanted to first write the blog post about that. Until I found the comments on Lorde's instagram uploads of pictures with him.
I don't want to go into great detail. If you want to know what folks have said about James, you can get on her instagram yourself or look it up in the news. Anyway, there were some ignorant comments at first-things that I would expect from those who aren't educated or are very young.
Around the first week of December, I think, things got nasty on Twitter. One Direction and Justin Bieber fans came under the impression that Lorde called their men 'ugly'. They lashed out. Like truly stupid racist little jerks.

I don't think this is really neccesary, since I hope most everyone who knows me has figured this out already, but I find Asian men attractive.
I'd prefer if you don't think 'yellow fever'. Or Sixteen Candles.

At any rate, because I like Asian men, I've received a mild amount of criticism from people I know who grew up in this area. No one has ever walked up to me and said, "why on earth do you like him? He's ugly," but wouldn't saying, "ewwww, he looks like a girl! So gay!" be almost exactly the same thing?
The last time I told my grandfather I found an Asian attractive he thought I was kidding. I've been asked by folks "how do you know which one you like, since gosh, they all look the same, you know?!"
And of course, the people that have asked, "Isn't he, like, 4 feet tall, since all of those Asian people are really short and stuff?
This is the extent of the bizzare and unwarranted stereotypes I've been on the receiving end of in my lifetime. Not much, in short. I thought that due to ignorance, clannish living habits, and kinist religious practices, the people of Appalachia were just born this way, and I never felt like it was a crisis or a problem. I felt strange, that's for sure, but I never felt like it was a huge problem. I would grow up, move away, and the fact that I like Asian men would be a simple side feature that wouldn't make me a ridiculous alien with six arms anymore. Yep.

They all look like women. That's what I was told concerning this image.

That was what I thought until I started reading the comments on Lorde's instagram. Then something clicked on in my head. Maybe it wasn't just my area where people could be biased and rude. Maybe it could be elsewhere, too. And so I was mildly surprised by the age complaints with no mention of his race. Then the storm began. Of course someone would have to decide to be immature for their age and start this mess. As can be seen below.
When this became such a big deal, an article on LA times titled 'Dear Internet: Lorde is dating an Asian guy-Get over it' was published, and contained this choice piece of info that made me shake my head and wonder what the world is coming to.

For C.N. Le, a sociology professor at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, “this is due to pervasive cultural stereotypes” about Asian American men -- that they are “nerdy ... or not masculine enough.” As Le explained during a WBEZ interview in 2012, these biases create a “cultural penalty” in the dating world, one with quantifiable costs.
“In crunching the numbers,” Le said, “[researchers] found on an aggregate level, Latino men have to make something like $70,000 more than a comparable white man for a white women to be open to dating them.” With African American men, that figure shoots up to $120,000, and for Asian men, it’s even higher: $250,000.

That is a hefty sum. I wouldn't want to look at those odds on any day of my life, especially if I happened to be an Asian guy and had the utter misfortune of being attracted to a white girl somewhere.
There are two groups of people that seem pretty happy about Ella and James, though-Asian guys and the white/black/Hispanic girls that think they are right on par with any other guys out there.
In fact, there is this video and the follow-up comments to prove at least a few people could look at it humorously and/or take something beneficial away from it-

What I took away from this event really changed the way I look at things; I used to think this kind of bias was restricted to my area. Now I'm discovering this is everywhere. I used to think that maybe (forgive me, please) Asian guys on the internet who were complaining about this issue were just doing it because they wanted to complain, but the stats say differently.
In the end, I have to say, for this white girl, it will never be about money. I don't like a man just because he's popular, rich, or others think he's 'hot'. I like him because he is perfectly handsome to me, even if I'm the only person who thinks he is. I like him because he's a gentleman, and loves me for who I am, despite all of my faults. I like him because no matter how much money he makes, he works his very hardest in whatever he endeavors to do. If an Asian guy falls into that category, I date an Asian guy. If he doesn't, he can keep walking like all the rest.

So Lorde dates an Asian guy, maybe because she genuinely just likes him. There's not a law somewhere which says she can't.

-Argentia Krystofel. 

Sunday, December 15, 2013


It starts deep down, I'm not sure where,
And it fills up the stomach with warmth
Like a fountain, it springs into the chest
And lastly seeps into the cheeks

We want to hide while we smile
If we could only cry, but we laugh
Instead, as if our very beings are
Confused by this sudden reaction

Pink, brilliant rose, I know it
We are glad no one can see it
We hope someone might notice
Yet we hide behind our crimson faces

It's a feeling, it's a word, or a sudden revelation
A forgetful last minute, a mistake in conversation
Sensations, your hand in mine, a rush
It's quite simply just another blush.

Monday, December 9, 2013


Like the kiss
Of a butterfly's wings against my lips is
This moment

I can't look around
I have spent too long watching the fake people
To gaze upon reality

Perhaps I can't change it
Perhaps I am just rewinding, notes of the past,
Trepidacious memories

But the warmth, so simplistic
The butterflies hatch from their cocoon inside of me
Oh, they are so red and blue

The butterfly dream
So soft and frail, inexplainable, forgotten words
I am lost once again

Why does the butterfly prince
Seek out this princess, despite her greatest faults
Her fluttering courage

Everything in her is insufficient
With everything tallied, she cannot compare
To you, precious one

Butterfly wings, open and close
The sunlight, the velvet, the dark colors, filled with life
Can I stay here forever?

-Argentia Krystofel

Saturday, December 7, 2013

2013 Collection of Poetry {Coworkers}

These are very short poems I wrote on my phone notebook after work some afternoons this summer and a few evenings this fall. Just some thoughts and feelings. Learning to work with other people, see from their perspectives, and listen to them talk about their own lives, has changed my life drastically. :)

Listed in order of those written most recently to those written most long ago (at the end of the post).


Oh, may the rain come back soon
Lovely expressions of lostness
Comfortable, not concerned, not anything, really
Not lost, not warmed, your fingertips no longer electric

Come back, give me the chance for quiet
Let us be drenched in this history
Let us forget the future and the past,
Becoming one in this gray present tense life


Permanent feelings of you, who I cannot forget
You with the shining light sticks
You who will never let me escape
Sparkles of wonder in your dying eyes

I return to that time of green rains
The bloodstains, washed out in blue and white
But my heart is elsewhere now
I can forget you, but I can't forget my dream


My red dress, white shirt
Dotted yellow sunflowers
Your reluctant eyes, don't leave me now
Your soft embrace, things to be missed


People coming and going
Like a gentle wind
Like a quiet bell toll, the end
My feelings of permanence dwindle

I wander through the memories
Set of dreams in my hands
A cure for my hurting heart
The ache in my soul for this sad place

Strike up some empathy in us
Because my eyes are dry again,
This strong feeling of absence
Separates me from you again


Pensive cleaning of the soul
Dedication shows your true nature
Opportunities you've missed,
Don't skip off your tongue but dance in your eyes


Don't choose the right words, don't ask
Missing you will not be mandatory
But it will happen, dearest one
Our hellos and goodbyes exchanged, we part again


They put you in red.
It doesn't do me any good; it never will
If contrasting colors are good for the eyes
Then which designer created your scheme?

Skin-deep, clothed in gradient darks that discretely hide
Your complex soul and forgotten life

We don't choose when stars fall
In the same way, we can't predict when they fly


Giant butterflies and the voice
Cats and vanilla smoking pipes, summer nights
I hold in my hands whisps of the warm air
Who is to say I dislike my empty palms?

Your expressive eyes of clear green
Like the May rains, they sparkle with life
If chocolate ice cream cones became human,
they would be sweet and rich with wisdom

I wonder how we, in this way, came to be here together?