I Started (Finished?) Writing a Song

I wrote my first song today, haha. Been planning it for a while but never really felt moved to write it. But I wrote it, and maybe one day I'll share it. I just wanted to let you, whoever it is that reads my blog, that I did it, maybe just to validate to someone other than myself that it really happened. There's no melody to it, just words, but for now that's fine.

Recently I've tried rolling down the windows and blasting music REALLY LOUD while driving. It makes me feel cool, even though it's really not that cool. It's kind of obnoxious isn't it? When I was little and I heard music REALLY LOUD coming from another person's car, I always thought that person was so cool, so daring. I know, it's dumb. But then when you're a kid don't you kind of think everything is cool? Braces? Cool! Pop tarts? Whoa! Shiny new jelly roll pens? Oober double whammy cool (Okay, I admit that's a little much)! I thought all those things were pretty poppin. Over the last week though, typical pop music on the radio can get pretty tiring. The same songs with mostly pointless lyrics that I guess are kind of interesting when you're in the mood. When I'm trying to think though, I don't want to be listening to Kesha's MyFirstKissWentAlittleLikeThis. *cue wet lip sound. AndTwist. Just..ugh. Stop. Other songs just sound like loud hazy annoying noise. So I've started listening to classical. I barely even notice it's there sometimes, but it allows me to think more, and when I pause to stop thinking (because I really can't multitask and think and listen at the same time), there's some nice, non-noisy music playing in the background. Maybe I should take that one step further and play this classical music REALLY LOUD with the windows down. This way I can sound intelligent but lame, still think, and be cool all at the same time. Triple whammy cool. Now that's cool.

I think I like parenthesis a little too much. (They're so friendly though, aren't they? Sorta like a hug, but for words. Ah, a word hug. Also, in this post I've said "double" and "triple whammy". "Quadruple whammy" just doesn't work though. When the sentences within parenthesis get too long it gets annoying. And this is getting to be too long now so must stop.)

EDIT//
Wow I just can't stop talking today can I? Where are all these words coming from, goodness. Sometimes, once in a blue moon (Is the moon really blue?) I like to reread old xanga posts just to relive past memories and look at how I used to write. Gotta say, I seem so much happier back then in my writing. I sound super perky and bubbly. And now...wow now I am such a debbie downer. Seriously, I'm always complaining and grumbling and being so gosh darn emo. If I was me in another body but still me in this one, I would walk up to myself and tell me to just stop making things so much harder than they need to be. I think it's okay to be sad, angry, frustrated, down in the dumps. But at some point you just gotta say oh heck, enough with the grumbling and worrying, and keep going. Stop wallowing. Wallowing stinks and worrying will just shorten your life span anyways. It would stink to be extinct (oh hayyy that rhymes) earlier than I need to be. If God cares about the lillies of the valley then how much more does he care about me, about us humans? A whole lot more! So thank you former, younger xanga self for cheering up present, older blogspot self. I really needed that. If you were another person I would give you a hug right now, but you're my past self and it would be weird to hug myself so..yes. Okay, lets stop. Okay. I am talking to myself now.

later kids.

I have this awful habit of responding, "oh really?" to things that people tell me. I'm waiting for someone to say, "yes, really. I just told you so." I will add this to my list of bad habits to get rid of. Oh really? Yes. Really.

Do you remember, the night we set out
Under the moonlight, the breeze was perfect
We were younger then, and naive for sure
But I made a promise to never leave you.

You spent a long night
We’ve kissed the devil
Though we knew that God was never far away
I tried my best for you, please believe that
Oh did I meet your expectations?

We fell asleep then woke,
Suddenly you’ll find
That we were gray and old
Where do these days go tumbling
Oh they disappear
On us.

There are a thousand words I wanna say
But I’ll save it all for morning
Well now I’m fine just laying here
With you
X2

We fell asleep then woke,
Suddenly you’ll find
That we were gray and old.

You didn’t change much darling
No, you didn’t age
At all.

-Jason Min

My grandmother.

There is something softening about old age. Age can really change a person, I think, and even though my grandma is changed, in a way she also isn't. Look at that picture, that face. There is a gentleness that radiates from her in her moments of awakeness that shines with a clarity I have known all of my life: gentleness. When she was younger she was kind of oblivious but in a funny way. And throughout it all, gentle. She passed that down to my mother (both the oblivion and gentleness), and I'd like to think some of it got passed along to me too. Funny and strange that she doesn't remember who we are but she still knows to smile for the camera. Smile grandma, smile. I hope she knows happiness.

i feel like
i am walking in no direction.

is no direction a direction?

I'm looking for the sunshine after the rain

I'm looking for the sunshine after the rain
I'm searching for the only thing I knew
I'm digging to find myself in you
On my knees
In the dirt
Only to find that you were right beside me
all along.
I reach for you with my muddy paws
With pools of sweat gathering at my chin.
Drip.
Running down my forehead, into my eyes
where it marries my tears.

As I hug you I smear brown on your white robe
My hair drips salt into yours
I am a mess, but you don't care.
You hug me anyways.

I've been thinking quite a bit recently about motherhood. What it means, what it feels like, what it entails, the importance of it all. And oh, what a responsibility and a gift. I'm trying to pay attention more when my parents cook, when they fix something or make the wrongs right. Yesterday I watched my dad carefully put salmon on the grill, using a tool I had seen countless times before but never bothered to ask about.

"Dad, what is that cage-like thing you put the salmon in called?"
"I think it's called a fish basket."

A fish basket. Things like these, I want to be able to have, to use, to know. Something as simple as making fish on a grill. I want to know this for my child. Funny that in the past I never bothered to know this for myself. But I'd like to know if for the unborn future, to tuck it into a pocket and rediscover it later.

I can't wait to be a mom, but it's a scary thing too you know?