i ain't gonna say that.

stupid cat.

what do you mean, domesticated feline- can you really call a cat domesticated when it comes up behind one of your birds that lives in the backyard and attacks it?

there are feathers all over the yard, and the wind isn't helping.

i wanted to save a feather- just one feather!- to remind me of the bird that lived in our yard for at least 3 years. so long that it wasn't even afraid of me.
but before i could take a feather my mom swept most of them up and dumped them in the trash. right before my eyes.

and what was i supposed to say? "No! don't do it, i want to save a feather to remember the birds!" yea right. i'm not a little kid. i'm not little miss kimmy. i'm not 3' 5" anymore. i'm 5' 3". i don't need to save something to remember them, i'm too big for that.
but i was sitting at the computer for the entire afternoon, and there was only one feather left, right in the middle of the patio, ready to blow away if there was a stonger gust of wind, and almost every 1/2 hour i would remember the birds- no, i would try to imagine the struggle between the cat and that poor, poor bird, like a little kid, like i was little miss kimmy, 3' 5" and not likely to grow taller than 5 feet.

i couldn't take it anymore. i jumped up, threw open the sliding door, grabbed the puny feather and shoved it in my pocket like a worthless relic- prized, and yet not cared for at the same time- grabbed the shoes outside, and explained to mom the cause for running outside into the cold and bringing the shoes back in: "the shoes are going to be soaked if there's a lot of humidity tonight."

i ran into my room and put my prized relic onto one of my bookcases, and later, my mom came in with a very weird face, asking me why there were 3 pairs of shoes and sandals on my bed. i just can't trust my own memory, to put the shoes by the hallway. and what was i supposed to say: "um...well...the reason for going outside was to actually pick up a feather so i can remember the birds that lived in our house for so long, because if you really want to know the truth, i loved those birds, and i will miss them, i'll miss their chirping and their inseperableness, and the love they had for each other, becuase, really, if you think about it, you barely ever see that in people."

forget it. i ain't gonna say that.

Innoncence

remember the time when people were just good or bad
but mostly good?

you trusted everyone; until DARE told you not to accept candy from strangers, and then you wondered, "Why?"

people were one faced; what you saw in public was what you would expect to see at home, at school, they would have the same personality everywhere.

remember the time when you didn't understand why your parents would go to a party and come back annoyed because of some of the people there- and you thought they were perfectly wonderful because they had a jumping house for you and all the other little kids?

and you couldn't understand why your mom didn't like those certain people in your family and you couldn't understand why- they always gave really nice Christmas presents!

those times- i cherish. the world was just one big piece, so simple, so easy to understand, every question was easy to answer, no thinking involved.

and now- i see people so much differently, i try to look for the second face before i see their first face.

as we get older, we try to see the whole picture of everyone, their entire personality, we try to guess what they're like when they're not in public. we look for the secret part of everyone.

it's just not like it used to be.

and in some ways, that's okay.

we can't live our life feeling cheated, in the end, because as it turns out-

those people in the party were all stuck up and conceited,

and it turns out that those certain people in my family that my mother doesn't like

are unemployed and are asking for money and to stay at our house-

and now, i ask- why doesn't he have a job? what happened to him? is he lazy? i don't want a lazy person in our house. did he ever do something bad?

and to think that i used to like him, just because of a nice christmas present he bought me, years and years ago.

------------------

i'm posting at 7 in the morning. don't know why. so please don't ask, because it is truly a little embarassing.

mixed up like jambalaya

i thought i knew what i was going to write about
but then i read everyone's posts and my
feelings- and ideas -of what to write about are
mixed up like jambalaya.

right now i guess i'm pretty sad because of what Sabrina wrote...- that feeling of hollowness and being able to cry and not wanting to- and then wanting to and not being able to.

so what i'll write about...
the way i spent my thanksgiving.

my dad came back from Louisiana
so it was a REAL thanksgiving this year. Well- as real as my family's traditional thanksgivings can get, which is.... not your generic type of big turkeys with mounds of cranberries and mashed potatoes.
no, it was- normal. for my family.

we went to a Thai restaurant in the heart of Los Angeles.
Palm's Thai Food takes up half a block and is always teeming with people. The LA hotspot? Palm's is the place to be.
Very chic.
upscale.
hot.
They even have this Thai man in his 40s singing Elvis hits. Dressed exactly like Elvis, of course.
Didn't I tell you this place was hot?

Sitting in the table next to me were a group of Pilgrims. Yes, "adults" in their 30s, men in their Quaker hats and suits looking a lot like Abraham Lincoln, and women with their scarves and modest black dresses. And looking at the "fashion" nowadays, they could have passed as regulars.

So there I was, with mom and dad, eating pad thai and fried rice, fried quail in pepper sauce, fried trout in mango sauce, beef sa-tae in spicy peanut sauce, and chicken and pork stuffed with what i like to call "mystery stuffing", which of course came with what i would also like to call "mystery sauce". That Thai food is really big on exotic sauce. We had everything to eat but the turkey. Which was fine with us.

AND SO THERE WE WERE, at Palm's Thai Food for Thanksgiving dinner. Stuffing ourselves with exotic food tingling and burning our tongues, listening to an Elvis impersonater churn out "hound dog" and "fools in love", with Pilgrims dancing next to me.

all this fun without a turkey and some formal dinner with white tablecloths and cranberry sauce and carbonated apple juice in a fancy look alike champagne bottle so it's kid friendly.

Who knew?

So what AM i really thankful for?
Well, that i'm not a turkey.

hold up, i'll do it tomorrow

i'm a bad procrastinator.
no- scratch that- i'm not bad at procrastinating...i'm actually very good at it.what i'm bad at is finishing the work i've procrastinated on.

because i know i have work to do- i just don't do it. <-- that part is normal
and then it comes to the last minute work- when i have to finish it- and i say,nah. i'll do it at lunch <-- that's the sad part.like right now.

i have a HUGE essay- well not huge, but...
big-due on Wednesday-
and i know i'll have lots and lots of homework due wednesday already-
and i'm choosing to do the essay...
tomorrow.

smart, right?
right.

Dear Reader of this letter...

I've been sitting here for 10 min. already. Thinking of what to write... And i still have no idea.
So I'll just go with "default" and paste a very interesting homework assignment my Spanish teacher Mr. Yarnton gave my class to do. And get this. The assignment is written in English.
I guess Mr. Yarnton is the guy that sets up "every 15 min." at our school. We were all agreeing with him when he said that we never really get to say "goodbye" to someone before they die, and so he said... for homework, i want you to write a goodbye note. What you would say to your family and friends, how you're not ever going to see them again, and all the things you wish you could have said.
And I guess I was feeling a little pessimistic when I wrote it...
------------
The photo album, the Barbie Dolls, the letters, the phone calls at 2 a.m., the sleepovers, the laughter, the inside jokes. Disneyland, Sea World, San Diego Zoo, ice cream, soda, crushes. School, lunch, secret clubs- password? girl power; pretty please, hand games, tag, handball. With time, they fade. An old photograph, yellowing with time. With time, my bones will turn to dust, scattered by the wind. Will I miss anyone? With time, they fade. My family, my friends, get blurred with time. Show me a picture of them. Tomorrow, I’ll forget the necklace, that they were wearing earrings. With time, their faces fade, the memories fade. Tell me you showed me a picture of them in a year. I won’t remember that you did. They’ll see me soon, no regrets that I’m leaving too soon, didn’t even get to college yet, but- I’ll see them soon, maybe, maybe. I don’t miss anyone, no, it’s okay, whatever, no biggie.
But- the sun on my back, the cool rain on my face, the breeze, sitting in the shade, the grass, the dew, the flowers- the roses- the sun on my back- the warmth, the happiness, the security.
I won’t get that again.
I’ll miss that.
That’s what matters to me in my life, that’s what I regret, having the things that will be here forever- taken away from me.
No, not family, not friends- they fade, they come and go, they’re never the same, always change.
But nature- the birds, the lizard on the stairway, the sun.

And try to take it away from me,
close my eyes.

But I can still see the sun, feel the warmth, the raindrops on my face, falling, falling,
the cool grass, green, sitting.

When I go the sun will still shine, the breeze will still blow, nothing will change.

So is this goodbye? Will I go to the next world? I didn’t know there was such thing. I will leave- I’ll be gone-that life- my life- will just…float away.

A life with no major regrets- but not carefree, filled with pain and anger and loss, yes- but beauty that shines from the sun, shows itself in weeping willows, whispers in the breeze. That life.

My life.

Name: Kimberly Renee Ngai Age: FIFTEEN!!!!!!!!! YEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So now I'm 15 years old. *gasp*
thanks everyone for the nice b-day wishes. it was great :)

I got home on Friday and I did exactly nothing until 11 p.m., when I finally decided to use my brain for a little while and I started to talk to my mom... and remind her that it was only going to be my b-day for 1 more hour.

and that's when she said it.
that's when she said that itty bitty little sentence...that got me thinking and gloomy and sooo sad that i almost started to cry. it was that feeling of regret. horrible feeling.

and this is what she said:
"15 already? well, did you ever think about the fact that you're never, EVER going to be 14 again?"

I was pissed when she said that. Really really pissed.
I realize how stupid this must sound...but seriously! I'm never going to be 14 for the rest of my life. obviously. but-

On the day before my birthday i was so excited to be 15, I never even thought for a nanosecond about the 365 days I had lived, being 14 years old...I never even thought about anything that happened to me...not one memory, not one happy one, not one moment that i lived, not one moment that i lived for.

And now that it's gone...

now that it's gone...


there's a poem that someone wrote, i forgot the author... but one of the stanzas stuck with me.

"It seemed to mean so little,
looking back- meant so much...
my fingertips, little strings attached on the ends
drawing me towards my fate.
my fate,
the past."

so now i'm 15 and i'm going to remember this moment,
me, sitting at the computer at 10:01 p.m., October 14, 2007, thinking about tomorrow,
anxious because my homework is half done.

I haven't changed much.

That Small Thing.

Friday-
again.

The week passed by so fast- too fast-
again.

I need time, I need to find time, I need to make time-
to turn around-
calm down-

and think about the days that have flown
by.

Because people say, “What is the point of life?”

To live it with a purpose, surely.

But… what purpose? What am I doing-
everyday-
that I will remember and when I’m 85 years old-
I’ll tell myself that it was worthwhile?

Everyday-
I go to school. Get through my 7 classes. And then-
go home, do my homework,
watch TV.,
play piano (fat chance)
and go to sleep.

You could only say I have a life-
on the weekends. It seems like the world wakes up on
Friday night, the world wakes up from 5 days
in a coma.

2 days of bliss, and then-
the cycle starts all over again.

---------------------------------------

So.
Friday-
again.

The week came and went.
I got time, I found time, I made time-
to turn around-
to calm down-

and think about the days that have flown
by.

Because people say, “What is the point of life?”

To live life with a purpose,
to find that small thing
in each and every single day
that puts a smile on my face-

to find that small moment in that never ending day
that I’ll remember for the rest of my life

that makes me think about who I am-
and how I will be in the future.

It makes all the difference in my day,

It makes all the difference between a vicious cycle
and a circle of life,

It makes all the difference between who I am
and who I could have been.

But-
don’t dwell on the past for too long-

because they are cannibals, these memories,

and they will eat you alive,
they will drown you with overwhelming emotions.

So.
Look forward, too. Look to the future.
And try to make yourself a better person.

Better than yesterday-

and tomorrow- better than
today.

-----------------------------------
that’s it.
I’ve worn myself out.

No more meaningful posts until…

until I find time to calm down,
think about yesterday…

and hopefully my memories won’t eat me up.