the · trickle · of · an · hourglass...

Too many things… and in the span of an MTR stop, 
too little time to explain…
So here I will attempt to serve the question with justice
(as I often do with my words and paper):

I want to backpack through Europe,
to scuba dive with sharks, and to be best friends with a Siberian tiger.
I want to fall asleep to the sounds of waves, 
to the grittiness of sand, and to the sight of the milky way.
I want to share the sunrise with someone I love,
to see wild horses run, and a spider weave its web on a dewy morning. 
I want to go to Greece, Spain, Italy, Greenland, Iceland, Antarctica, Australia, Yukon, Alaska, Africa, Egypt, Israel, Peru, and Cambodia ... 
not just as a tourist, but to experience its culture and become a part of it. 
I want to see the world and to be a part of it…

but I also want to graduate university with, perhaps,
a double major in English and Psychology.
I want to learn and learn and learn and never stop learning,
I want to be able to say, "Hey, that? I hated that thing … but I've experienced it",
to no longer be full of fear, but to fear and have the courage to overcome it.
I want to be full of life, fun and amazing and inspirational …
but I also want to be quiet, thoughtful, contemplative and observant,
serving with humility and learning with an endless curiosity.
I want to cry with those who shed tears, 
to laugh with those who are filled with happiness,
to be there for those who are lonely,
and to love with Love to those who seek it…

but most of all,
I want to create gentle imprints on someone every day,
to touch a life whether I know it or not,
whatever circumstance I may be in,
wherever my footsteps will follow me.
This is what I want to do. 

As a child I desired the things of a child.

I longed for my own pokemon,
to be able to morph into any animal I wanted,
to have telekinetic powers,
to be able to control the four elements.

I longed for powers so extraordinaire that I would be a danger onto myself and those I loved. 
I longed to be someone intriguing enough to be held ransom
only so that people who loved me would show that they did. 

I longed to be loved, 
to be someone special to someone I thought to be cool,
and to know that I was worth protecting.

As a child, I desired the things of a child.
But I am a child no longer,
and my world must root strongly in reality.

For I have become a weaver of worlds.
In my slumber, I slip into unstable fantasies
filled with destruction, fleeing, death, betrayal and abandonment. 
And in my wake when I am alone,
I find my heart tugging to soar through the clouds,
or yearning for a connection with characters, 
fictional or not.
There are times where all I want 
is to live in one of the worlds I have made for myself,
where things are not perfect, but, 
at least, 
I knew I was worth protecting. 

Now I am no longer a child, 
and I desire of things more than that of a child,
but the desires of my past still exist,










what went wrong?

It's the bittersweet feeling of letting go of one thing 
to embrace the newness of another.
It is the understanding and acceptance
that you may never encounter them again.
And it is the melancholy that sets in
after you watch the place disappear from the rear view window.

This is the act 
of saying goodbye;
as the words pass from your lips into the air,
and still silence hangs about the house
as the serenity that has longed to settle in all year
sits. Quietly.

This is my greatest source of comfort:
to know that one goodbye may not mean another.
Even as I wave 
to the ghosts behind me,
I know that they can become just as solid as my 
dark flesh 
ahead.



… farewell. 

It's been four months, Kakashi.
Four, both agonizing and pleasant months.
The skies and the fields are beginning to remember the truth of Spring; 
the pale grass of Winter is filling plentifully with its summer lushness
and the sky is growing bluer by the day.
We are far north, but I can feel the air getting warmer with every step.

I'm coming home soon. 

Are you excited? 
Sometimes I get a little scared that you're used to not having me around,
and that when I come back, 
I'm just going to be a nuisance. 
But then I remember how often, still, I find myself wishing you were here
and I know that no matter how long I'm not around,
you'll never get used to my absence. 
It's comforting, really.

These coming weeks are all I need to push through until I can walk through those red gates again. 
Our group here has grown smaller: Tonto was killed a month ago while we were protecting some villagers from rogue nin, and Syuki and Shuriko decided to stay at one of the villages to help out. So now it's only Junta, a very dispirited Kara and me. 
Junta's becoming quite proficient at his suiton techniques; I'm quite proud of him. 
Our teacher's still the same as ever, though I'm sure he's preparing for the amount of tears and anger that'll be flooding in when we arrive home… 
and, well, Kara … I have tried to be there for her, but she sits in silence most of the day. 
For a while, she was so upset that she stopped eating, but that's loads better now… 

As for me, 
I'm hanging in there.
Loneliness does not come from having no people around you;
but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.
I will be glad when I come home.
I will be glad to see Shikamaru's face, 
to be bowled over by Akamaru, 
to be able to laugh and hang out with all of my friends,
and to be able to wander, sit, and breathe in your presence. 
I really …
can't wait to be home … 

From the time my fingers could hold,
I wanted to hold heroics. 
I wanted to wield a blade
with sharp steel and a bite ice cold.

So broken branches became my sword,
and the forest, my home. 
The cracks on the sidewalk opened into gorges,
and the trees echoed my enemy's roar.

Spells sprung from the air around me
at only a sound of my voice.
Among the woods I was my own,
A spirit; not bound, but free.

My knowledge came from the best:
Deyna Taggerung taught me of the dagger,
Martin the Warrior drilled me in swordsmanship,
And Grath Longfletch yielded me the knowledge of the bow.

It has been years since I have left the Abbey past.
Wandering now, I travel with nought but my cloak, my staffblade, my longbow, and a quiver 
full of arrows, 
shadows 
and wits.

But I have not forgotten.
For in the midst of battle, my blade still shines bright
and my lungs bellow the cry of my beloved Abbey. 

"REDWAAAAAAAAALL!" will forever be my song
until I breath

my last.

Photographs 
where faces are obscured are the best kind.
It leaves for little explanation,
and much for imagination.

There's something
about the backs of people that tell of their being:
The way their hair falls, 
the curvature of their spine,
the shadows they cast...

The silence of their form speaks more words
than a pretty face. 

Faces lie.

This I have learned well: 
Faces lie.

Speak with me and you will find:
a borderline unhealthy interest in weaponry,
fascination with serial killers and Death,
Harry Potter, Pokemon, and Avatar mentionings,
strange spelling errors,
bursts of spontaneous role-play,
questions,
long, uncommon words,
an obsession with the sky,
random acts of kindness,
writing that imitates printed font,
Love,
laughter during the most inappropriate times,
quiet, unexplained smiles,
relentless giving,
more questions,
a thirst for endless singspiration and the whereabouts of wisdom,
unmentioned fear,
buried requests,
abstract ink sketches,
and an almost childlike personhood 
coupled with the attention span covered by the sole appearance and disappearance of a squirrel.

I like that. 

Today's just one of those days
where all I can think of is you;
your pain
and our silence. 

Papa,
fill the empty spaces of my mind.

I have learned to laugh at the quirks of this farmland;
at the Asian jokes,
at the snow pummeled into my face,
at the burnt broccoli. 
I have learned to laugh at myself,
at all the humiliation,
at all the times where I asked for toilet paper,
nutella, 
and screwdrivers,
from our male neighbours.
I have learned to laugh at my mistakes,
for there is where success is birthed.

I have learned to laugh at the knife kills in CoD,
at the redemption games we played because you 
couldn't bear to lose,
and at the fact that it is 15 degrees one day,
and snowing beautifully the next. 
I have learned to laugh,
whatever the circumstance,
for laughter is remedial for the soul.

I have learned to love the Christmas lights by my bedside,
at the still photographs on my wall,
at the memories that come alive in my mind.
I have learned to love the female presence,
and the excitement of Christ-talks 
over hot tea 
and doughnuts. 
I have learned to love the three hour train rides,
the three bus and half an hour train ride to the guy's,
and the wonders of a clean kitchen. 
I have learned to love companionship,
and how one must be a friend
to make one.

I have learned to love the bitter cold,
because that's when the pretty flakes of Winter fall.
And I have learned to love the silence of the piano,
and the old scent of books in the library. 
For to love
opens up an awfully big adventure.

Like leaves on a sapling,
I too have grown. 
I have grown to keep growing. 
To love the Word, 
to savour and chew on it all day. 
To be bold and unafraid, 
to stand strong in who I was made to be
and what I believe. 
I have grown through my seasons of thirst,
confusion,
and hunger.
And still,
I am growing. 

I have become convinced 
that wherever we are placed,
we have to laugh much
(for a day without laughter
is a day wasted),
love much 
(to pour out what was poured into you),
and grow much
(for a sapling is not forever meant to be 
a sapling,
but a tree that blossoms
and bears fruit). 

So friend:
laugh,
love,
and grow. 

I sat on a rock out by the sea
to watch the waters fall. 
And fall they did
upon the sandy shores of the beach,
singing the most soothing song,
untangling the chaos in my mind. 

I smiled at the strength of the wind as it kissed my face
and when my feet touched the ground,
I exhaled at the softness 
of the sand and the grass together,
tickling my calloused soles. 

Then I was in the wood,
where the smell of pine was heavy in the air,
where every step brought rustling of a leaf, 
and the songbirds' song 
filled the empty spaces 
of my mind.
And I followed the winding path
that intertwined with a bubbling brook
until its water finally enticed me.

Under the shadows of trees
and breaths of sunlight,
cool water churning at my ankles
and breeze 
speaking of a million and one things,
running through my hair,

I drowned 
in my sensations. 

But once again the land before me
changed
and I lay on lush grass 
that sprouted from the top of a pointed rock. 
And though the rich blue sky was 
framed by a jagged circle,
I had to take deep breaths as I felt myself being swallowed 
by the vast stratosphere above;
the engulfing of the clouds,
the endless waves of blue …

But the wind found me,
and it told of tales 
that extended to the heavens.

I only followed the words 
and I found 
my heart at ease.