When you have nothing left to give, you let them suck you dry; mind, body, and soul.
My suicide note, if I were ever to commit suicide, that is. But I don't like taking the easy way out. Behold, my poem. Criticism of Life To whom it may concern, and it may not concern anyone, not even you. I am alone in my madness, my thoughts give voice to my trigger finger, my aim is true. A pause before death, my escape from emotion, I have no doubts. I stare down the barrel of my .45, I have no means to go on living. I have no fear, I have no hesitation, I have no want for a memorable speech, I have no tears. This is no more philosophic than history, my life will not live on in books, I wish to not be remembered. My aim is true, it's my time, I am ready. My heart holds no fear, it too is ready. I give my last breath, a click, a shot, a smile, a moment in time. Pity to the one who finds me.
About once every two years, I go to Taiwan (I'm in Taipei right now) and feel like an outsider, but also, at home. I am Chinese American. Here, I look like everyone else. I'm not a minority. It's only when I open my mouth that the jig is up, because I'm American, and although my mandarin is good back in the states, but here, my mandarin is no better than a kindergartners, and that brings me a lot of shame and frustration. I want to be literate in this beautiful culture. Currently, I understand more Chinese than I can speak. The only mandarin I ever speak is to my parents, and their immediate friends, and they always praise my parents for making me speak mandarin at home. Back at home, in the states, people I don't know see me and sometimes speak to me slower because I'm Chinese, and I haven't spoken yet. They always have a look of surprise when I start speaking English. I feel very much like a minority there, but it's home and I understand. Don't get me started when I get a call from my parents, and I immediately speak in mandarin. They think I'm speaking in tongues or something. But I don't mind. It's a form of pride. I mean, I can speak 2 languages! Most people just know one. I grew up in a small town in Columbus Ohio. We moved there in the early 90s, from New Orleans and my family was one of the only Asian people there. It was hard. I felt so out of place and so alone. I hated all the questions of whether I ate dogs or cats (no), and why my eyes were slanted (I don't know). I was called a chink and my language mocked and made fun of. So much so that I hated being Chinese for a bit. But it's okay now. It gave me a thick skin and an understanding that some people are just ignorant to be ignorant and don't want to learn. It's not my problem. I'm sitting here at a cafe drinking my iced latte in this beautiful city. I have a lot of positivity in my heart right now, but I wish I could express it more eloquently in mandarin, but it's okay, because this is who I am. It took a long time to accept the things I cannot change, but I want to change the perspective. One day, I will write a poetry of love in mandarin, and it will be spectacular. I'm ABC and proud. I am American Born Chinese
Elizabeth Taylor
Recently, on June 5th, I turned 40. This is an age I don’t mind, and quite excited about. I thought my 30s was quite exceptional. It made me feel whole and alive that decade. It healed me from my 20’s where I was quite broken and lost. So at age 40 and on, I hope to find more of myself.
Now I know I haven’t updated my tumblr in more than ages, but I’m more of a creeper than a writer that cuts out different letters from magazines and sends it to the lead investigator kind of gal, but I’ve been busy.
I’m married now and have a frickin 4 year old boy! I’m a boy mom! I just want to sit on a bench under the tree for some damn shade!
So, back to my age. When I was 29, I thought I couldn’t possibly make it to 30. I thought I’d cease to exist. I didn’t actually think I’d die or anything, just that some celestial being would just pluck me from existence. So when I hit 30, that morning I felt strange, I was ready for something to happen, only nothing happened.
The only thing that happened was that I got reacquainted with an old friend, who became my boyfriend, who became my fiancé, who became my husband, who became the father of our child.
I used to question why I was so happy. I would subscribe to the saying, “this too shall pass.” Though poetic, was damaging to me.
Now I ask myself, “why not?” Why not be happy? Why not feel love? Why not be hopeful?
Anyway, I’m 40 now, and I’m excited!
Do not go gentle into that good night; Old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. ~ #DylanThomas #DownIsUp #UpIsDown #HilliardOhio #WhileWalking #Home
Red
The Nekromancer’s Daughter
I'm different faces for different people, and at the end of the day my personalities are exhausted.
I get depresso if I don't have my espresso. #Coffee