Blue Skies Turned Grey

I’m not down, not anymore
Thinking I know now, that I’ve always known it all
I’ve spent hours on this street
Effortlessly dreaming and glancing away
Wasting hours of my time
Reliving the past
Regretting what’s lost
Wanting what I don’t have

Moving along now
But I go nowhere
By the stop sign I turned and remembered
This was where we stood
As I recall replaying the words
As if you’ve gone so far away
But I can't be too sure, so
I continued walking,
Walking the way, while

Blue skies turned grey
Sweet songs of sadness humming in my head
Foolishly playing pitying myself
Secretly I laughed
I’ve spent hours on this street
Reminiscing every moments
Living in the past
Doubting what I’ll lose
Waiting for what I will never have

So I continued to wait
Maybe you'll come
Hoping things will change
Waiting for someday to always be
The same sweet September again

-September 2007
My first poem.

I am Miss Busy Bee.

This is the final week of class, and I'd love to get all sentimental about it.....
But I am so bad at time management, so I better not.

I think I've lost my head...
I mean, I'm blogging about it, right now.
And I'm thinking about silly dorky things to say to Mr. llama because I miss him much.

Okay, list of things to do:

• FYSM presentation
• Philosophy readings + paper
• PACK for Sauga & Port Stanley...BRING BOOKS.
• PAY MY PHONE BILL!!!
• Law, Human Rights & Women's Studies exam notes (this will take forever)
• ****Adrita's Birthday (For date, google Vimy Ridge...yes, I'm a terrible best friend).
• Mail rent check, landlady update on laundry machines
• CUSA application & $2-plunge
• Find a summer job.
• Top up my stash of junk food

One day at a time.
Oh, I can handle it.
I'm thinking about going for a long walk. But that might be a bad idea, right?

So, I solemnly swear, to log on facebook only twice a day starting tomorrow.
And I will blog twice a week.
I'll keep this up until I finish exams, because I'm a very disciplined young lady. I want a 90% on all my exams.

So, sayonara!

Word.

It’s a simple line.
An answer without a question.
Sometimes, that is all I need.

To think nothing’s wrong could be a problem.

To think it be right, is wrong.

So I don’t think.

& I am irrational.

Picture of imperfection

A road nowhere.
I drive to hit the curb.
With greener grass and trees,
Away from what is known.

A yellow lemon wall,
I chipped the paint away
Regretted what I'd lost
Wanted what was already there.

A heart shaped candy,
Broken to three pieces,
It tastes just as sweet
As was it when was whole.

It's a simple mess.
But some things stay the same.
Underneath it all
Are beautiful.
Unbreakable to stay

Be not nobody

I want to do anything
There’s nothing else to be.
You can be
Whatever you think you’ll never see.

This is what my heart tells me.

Lights out.

I have a throbbing on the right side of my brain, right behind my eye that has partially subsided. I refuse to believe it’s a migraine. Because secretly, if I acknowledge that it is migraine, I have to submit myself to be in a ‘sickly-state’. I don’t like that state. It makes me feel pathetic.

I just read a blog post about people denouncing earth hour to be a ridiculous plan. I am equally as disappointed. I believe this event is a milestone and sets precedent for bigger initiatives in the future. Although I’d love to see these people who complain initiate something better.

So, people…lights out at 8:30-9:30pm okay?
Be part of this collective campaign to cut down energy consumption.

Save the world!

P.S. the post below this one makes me sound like a nutcase. Please ignore.

Hello person.

So, I notice you've been checking out my blog frequently from googling the names of two students who passed away during my high school year. Well, hello Mister/Miss.
I'd like to know why you're changing your location each time you enter my blog?
I can only hope you find me to be a prolific writer is main reason why you frequently visit, and find my blog interesting.

Please leave a comment.

Unrequited love of a flute....

I was on the bus last night, and a girl walked across of me lugging with her a case of what looked like a French Horn. She was nearly seated when the bus driver called on to her, "Excuse me! Come back here!", because she hadn't shown her bus pass. The bus was still in stop, and she lumbered with her huge case back to the front of the bus and showed her bus pass. Then she passed by me again. I smiled at her. She returned me with a shy smile back.

I thought to myself then, that the instrument must have been heavy. A flute would have been much lighter to carry around. Then a memory of being in middle school orchestra band conjured.

I used to played the flute. And I loved my flute and the sound that came out of it. I remember in grade 6, the first time I opened the case, my attempt at assembling it, and the awkward feel of placing my fingers to cover the holes. I remember Ms. Essex reassuring me, to "smile-and-go-toooooooo" because I kept "smiling-and-going-FOOOOOO" when blowing into the flute. So what came out were a series of klutzy sounds, as my cheeks becoming numb and I'd start to feel a little faint from such a challenging breathing exercise.

I loved the jitters before a concert. I loved how each instrument contributes to such a harmonious and beautiful sound. I loved how I contributed to the music.

I remember the feeling of victory, after struggling through to play 'I saw three ships' for a Christmas concert. Ms Essex always told us to sit straight with our flutes 180 degrees. I probably sat straighter than anyone of the flutist in the band, because she always made me sit up front. I performed in the talent show consecutively for three years, too. I remember playing the Titanic theme, Colours of the Wind from the movie Pocahontas, and Somewhere Out There from An American Tail. I remember I used to perform with the concert band wonderland every year, too.

I played my heart out.

Then somehow, my interest in the flute died down. Maybe because in grade 9, drama always conflicted with band rehearsals. Maybe I lost interest and decided to try something different. I did buy myself an acoustic guitar after. So I decided to stop playing the flute completely. One thing for sure, I realized that I never stop loving my flute. I caught myself playing with it on several occasion, longingly wishing to be in a band again.

That is exactly how I feel right now. As I'm sitting here, I wish I had brought the flute, that is probably collecting rust under my bed somewhere in Mississauga. I miss how the gentle sounds, and breathing would calm me down.

I suppose this is my consequence, for replacing Mr. Flute with Plankton the guitar & drama.

The Cherry on top of my First Year Ice Cream Cone

I am just about ready to spit words out about my amazing day. Day 1 of The Global Advocacy Conference was as eye-opening as I anticipated it to be, but I have to say, today was pretty much the icing (or cherry)to my first-year university experience. I am filled with inspiration, optimism, and very much motivated. I have faith. I believe that is all I need for me to move ahead and pursue my ambition.

About a month ago, I came to know about this conference from none other than my buddy who initiated Efforts United. Last week, I contacted my Law Prof about this event, who directed me to the Assistant Dean's office. Little did I know the short meeting with him would grant me with such an opportunity I had today. He generously sponsored the costs of registering for this conference and on top of that invited me for a lunch with the founder of Not For Sale, a non-profit organization established with the goal to eradicate Human Trafficking.

The founder is David Batstone, filled with wisdom, charisma and creativity. The morning session of the conference at the Bronson Centre was informative. Joy Smith, a member of parliament introduced to us her Bill C-268 with regards to legislative action on prosecuting those who are involved with this massive exploit.

At the lunch, I had to rush back to campus. I was slightly intidmidated to be seated among professors, deans, faculty members but then at the same time, I felt special! This was pretty much a once in a lifetime opportunity! I mean, hey, you don't get to sit with these high rank university people and feel important everyday! Above all, I was sitting diagonally across the founder of an NGO. The man listened to me as I voiced my opinion and thoughts...big deal (I know!). My Human Rights Prof drove Inaz, Batstone and I back to the Bronson Centre after lunch. Random fact, Batstone sneezed three times in the car on the way....yes, I'm a dork.

Back at the conference after, he even directly pointed me and Inaz out during his speech.. He joked that we are both in charge of making this conference larger next year, inviting 50 people from Carleton each. So, I pretty much felt my face turned red and the dork in me visited his booth after the talk and gave him my email address and wrote
"I promise to bring you 50 students next year...remember me!!"

Awesome Batstone gave me a warm hug as he signed my book and promised to help me with Efforts United and initiate a human trafficking group on campus!

Batstone is down to earth, and passionate about what he does, more than anything, he is just an average human being. I am truly inspired.
Okay, I'll rant more about the social-political stuff I learn in a bit. Kinda tired. But just had to share my awesome experience.

Martin Luther King Jr. says "The moral arc of the universe bends at the elbow of justice."
This is it. I am so motivated now to seek justice. I have the resources I need. If King had the courage to abolish inequality in American history, then abolishing human trafficking on a global scale is possible.

Pardon my crappy grammar and spelling error...I'm currently in the state of euphoria.

Human Trafficking

• The 3rd most profitable criminal activity.
• 3.2 Billions of dollars as an annual revenue is generated from this industry.
• 50% of them are children.

I read an article for my human rights course with a profound statement by Walter Landor.

"Products are made in the factory but brands are made in the minds."

There is a 'knowledge-economy' in place to stimulate consumerism as a form of lifestyle. There is an ethical egoist attitude in place to put our self-interests ahead. Capitalism preaches for competition. Globalization extends for multinational corporations to seek cheaper resources beyond what is local. Yet, beneath the threads and fabric of each product, is a pair of hands belonging to someone who earns less than a dollar a day. The hands of women and children, trafficked, bought and sold for forced labour and sexual exploits. Out of sight, out of mind.

I have been told, buying products made from sweat shops at least grants those in poverty-stricken nations some income. I seek to question what makes us any different from them? We express our anger simply because minimum wage is not 10 bucks and hour, when these people are silenced. Why are we depriving them for privileges we have? Simple to say, we live in a nation preaching freedom, rights and security. Therefore we have a much stable system in place here and not where they are at. But mind you, the factories are owned by corporations here. We are a part of this system of exploit.

Perhaps I am sounding redundant to you. This could be my naivete voice speaking. I may sound ambitious, I may seem unrealistic.

But I believe it has to end.

I come off as a hypocrite when I say that. I like brand names. Chances are, my closet is filled with clothes sewn by little hands, of children deprived of simplest basic necessities. Of awareness? I believe I am informed. But I am frustrated because I am not making any changes. While I pursue my lifelong dreams and enter an institution to become educated. I consciously enslave women and children in another side of this world. They harvest the coffee beans I drink every morning, sew the threads of my t-shirts and dye my jeans.

It's inevitable.
I can't hide from it.

There is a legal dilemma in place with regards to prosecuting the multinational corporations. It would be a great accomplishment for me to one day reach the international jurisdiction and advocate against these injustices. For now, I promise to dedicate myself to Efforts United. Look them up on Facebook.

I look forward to attending tomorrow's Global Advocacy Day: Not For Sale conference on Human Slavery. I hope this will not be another one of those awareness campaign, preaching for change ambiguously....like this blog post.

We are PRIVILEGED.
PRIVILEGE is unearned power.

Another leaf, rooting me to reality.

I am impressed at life's wonderful occasions.

Between catastrophe and victory. Surrounded by people and faces, I realize that I constantly overlook who lies right in front of me. Goodbye is the word that grounds us to reality. The truth and certainty that people come and go, puzzles me. I have met the most extraordinary human beings. Some, within just a month of acknowledging their existence, I find myself somewhat attached to them.

This is beauty. There is a reason.

Like the season, our life changes upon meeting these people.

I want time to slow down. But secretly I understand there's a reason why these people have to go. There is something that lies ahead for them to do, more wonderful experiences for them. They leave behind their memories and friendship with me. While they continue to pursue their ambitions in life, as I do with mine, but there is no denying that we once met.

Years from now, I may be sipping my cup of French vanilla one Monday morning, perhaps driving my way to work. An announcement about a ballet performance on a radio might conjure the thought of you. I may recall our conversation about the Swan Lake performance you saw. And the memory of us, skating at Dow's Lake will make me miss you.

But for now, as I lie in bed with a tissue up my leaky nose, I promise to remember you. I pray for your happiness, and hope you never lose your sense of wonder.

Until we meet again.

It's like a secret.

I love the feeling you get after an interview. That ultimate rush of relief, draining away the superficial positive front created to over-enlarge a personality you believe you possess.

It sounds freakishly narcississtic.

Truthfully, I believe there is a system or a continuum that exists between you and the employer. You, commercializing yourself, to be displayed and examined, while proving competence. They, portray themselves with curiosity, superiority and hidden desperation.

And even when the employer questions out for your weaknesses, it comes off positive, somehow. It is like that with a random stranger too, isn't it? Both parties eager to decipher the other, but unwilling to really reveal their individual dark side.

A forced relationship. It is imposed by circumstances and environment.

Well not really a relationship, because it is temporary...

Special shout out =)

Happy Birthday Mr. llama Mukhtar!

You're wonderful, and most dorkiest but coolest & awesomest ever.
Have an amazing one.
Miss & love you.
xoxo
:)<3

-Miss Sheep

Take a walk with me

On a beautiful Tuesday afternoon.
We can pass by houses made of stones, houses made of wood, and broken down houses. Imagine sitting on the steps, drinking iced-tea. We could be working the lawn, my hands dirt-filled with soil, planting pretty flowers.

Or walk to Bank St, among the shop houses. Sitting by the patio, maybe. We can have a philosophical discussion or a pointless silly conversation about giant cats and cannibal toads. Over a caramel frappucino for you, and double chocolate frappucino for me.
Endulge in guilty pleasures.

And my favorite part of the evening. Passing by the gorgeous canal, as the sky turns orange. Among cyclists, couples kayak-ing in the summer, and men walking their dogs...
As the warm breeze blow every thoughts away from our minds, settling into simplicity.

Life is wonderful -Jason Mraz.

Post-it note

I have a cup of orange tea, post it-notes, highlighter, pen and honey roasted sunflower seeds. Jason Mraz is singing his life away, motivating me. My window is opened and it is breezy, beautiful, sunny and bright out.

John Stuart Mill says, "It is better to be a human disatisfied than a pig satisfied."

How does Mill know pigs are happy being pigs? Maybe the man speaks to pigs. For what matters, I still love him.

I know I am content, satisfied and happy. :) Just thought I'd share some love because I'm feeling generous, right now.

Okay, so what next?

I am so easily distracted, aren't I? I should be concluding my essay... Swear I'm not on facebook. Honest.

Bye!

Peanut Butter 'n Things

I love how peanut butter sticks to the roof of my mouth. My first attempt at making peanut butter cookies is a success!

Note: size difference between batch one & two is quite distinct. At approximately 3:1 ratio. Yes I do math real well. See middle image for comparison purposes.

Bitter chocolate is still sweet.

This is my sunflower, gone wilted.
And my sour milk, and bread gone bad.
An opened bag of soggy potato chips
Clumped sugar, in my tea-too sweet.
Damp ginger and rottens eggs.

Just like my day,

I still find it perfect.

My political other half

MacDonald's free coffee is kicking in and it is unfortunately the Sunday to 'spring forward'. All in the name if daylight's savings. As of now, I will be losing an hour of sleep. Nonetheless, I feel contented. I have a tummy filled of 2 pancakes, an oatmeal, hashbrown and 2 sunny side up eggs, for dinner. Don't patronize, I have decided to break the meal conformity. Although, I'll admit this wasn't the first time I had breakfast for dinner.

My bestfriend Sarah visited me from Kingston. Her presence feels wonderful. I feel at home. Dinner with 3 others from my high school made me feel at ease.

I have missed Sarah greatly. I missed that we had two consecutive classes together. We were always partners for group assignments. We discussed anything global or political over lunch because politically, we're on the same spectrum. I missed that we'd talk to ourselves before tests together, and so it'd seem like we were explaining to each other our study notes. She was always sleepy in class, and I remember making fun of her biological clock. I remember us both missing classes, the day two students from our grade passed away. The random philosophical rants. The aimless visits at our Middle school for volunteer hours, making fun of the papers we were told to mark for a teacher. I remember her voluntarily agreeing to be a part of the malay dance....after much persuasion from me. I remember we stayed up all night the week before I left for Ottawa, just to see a crappy sunrise. And I'll remember the day I left. She stood early in the morning at my doorstep to wish me goodbye.

As I type, she lies asleep on the foldable mattress beside me.
I have known Sarah for 7 years.

Tonight, I realize she is still the same wonderful Sarah to me. Our friendship is challenged by time and distance. But I know for certain, what we have remains stable despite the little compromises we'd have to make. It is one of those friendship where mutuality is reassured against all odds.

When we first met, we both thought we hated each other.
But as I lay here. I realize how much I truly love her.

I will miss her when she leaves tomorrow.

Life and lemons

It's easy to say life is simpler when I was three. To be carefree, and endulge in mindless curiosity. The world seemed a bigger place. Colours were pretty, and blue sky was everywhere. All it took was the sun to shine for a single smile.

Was that considered reality?
Everything seemed positive. Practically utopian.
But there were moments of frustration. Of constant confusions and misunderstandings. Moments where my world conflicted the world of the grown-ups. Is reality defined by fragmented moments of frustrations in our lives?
My imaginations did not seem to intersect theirs. They have imaginations too. Funny thing is that they dreamed of similar things. Okay, maybe I dreamed of silly things like a giant cupcake factory for a house and flying on a duck to the moon. But the concept remains similar. We all dream of big houses, travelling, money and many other material things. At whatever age and moments in our lives. But somehow, my imaginations seemed naive. Unrealistic.

They denounce superiority over the fabricated realms over mine, because of growth. The series of experiences sowed to this earth, granted by age.

Growth.
It shapes reality. Some may say growth suppresses imagination. Imagination turns to a mere thing called hope. It is renamed, rebranded, and regarded as a distant ideal far to be accomplished.

Growth made me realize the challenges I had to go through, before laying a brick for my wall of dreams. It questioned the cement of my beliefs, the substance so fluid in the beginning yet easily rigid. Everything becomes complex. A competition for survival.

But the fact still remains, that what we are all still chasing after

despite age,

or experiences,

remains the same.

We are all still chasing the same dreams when we were young.

The root of our reality lies from our imagination.
We will have moments to fall, and break, and cry because of growth.

I have fallen off bikes, gotten tonnes of B's, lost friends and been trapped in situations where I thought it was the end of me.But we learn from those. Although it is much easier to speak of it than go through experiencing it.

Life will always throw lemons at you that hits your head to bruise.
Now you can yell at life for hurting you.
Or you can squeeze the lemon, make lemonade and make a living. Which will of course, advance your pursuit in turning your imagination into reality.

Imagination keeps us youthful.

Okay, I'm ranting.
Bye.

Of nothingness & bliss

It's sweet and sour, like chocolate covered strawberries.
Or pink lemonade with just enough sugar.Warm like a smile. Or chamomile tea.
Freeing feet in open-toed wedge sandals. Blistering heat. Colourful, and bright. Like chocolate cupcake, with white icing and rainbow sprinkles.
And light. Like dandelion seeds parachuting everywhere.

Rags to riches

Dear Walt Disney,
You intrigue me with your brilliance. I thought I've outgrown your fairy tales but last night has proven this notion of mine to be a fallacy.
A misunderstanding.
Truly, your magical realm still exists within me.
I was overflooded with memories of my dad reading to me bedtime stories of kingdoms and evil existing in the medieval.
The overwhelming feeling of a wonder.
And the victory of my ability to read, stuttering to pronounce word after word, from crisp pages while raw imaginations flowed through my mind.

Since young, I secretly and hopelessly waited for a knight to my rescue because of your adaptations and creations.
I am ashamed to admit that I still believe in your quaint world of dames with beautiful dresses, in the arms of a noble, romantic and courageous princes. The feminist in me finds patriarchy existing in your universe. Yet, despite the damsels in distress you've constructed, I am most impressed with Mulan. Defying of phallocentrism and femininity somehow legitimizes and reinforces my belief in you.

I loved Mulan from the moment I first watched her on screen. I remember being 7 again, in the theatre, ironically, with my dad. I remember, laughing away at the silly dragon Mushu. Inspired, at the will of a woman who sought to protect her father, all at once in search of her true identity.

Mr. Disney, you gave me hope in happiness. You nurtured my imagination and above all, you've taught me that good will always overcome the evil.
This has been the root of my philosophy for years. In every act of activism I pursue, I have always believed in the power of good and its multiplicity in effects.

There is a moral lesson in your stories. One that motivates, for dreams to come true. I am a firm believer in dreams. I have witnessed before me the works of my dreams becoming reality.

Thank you for your beautiful stories and for continously inspiring.

You have given every little girl the hope of achieving a 'happily-ever-after'. I am still waiting for mine.

Although I think I find bits of happiness that exists, already.

Yours truly,

A cardboard box

Seize it.
Tie up with complicated knots.
Suppress it.
Box it in a black cardboard.
Seal it with iron locks.
Then dig a hole.
Bury it.
Bury it so deep.
Deeper than the roots of daisies that spring.
Bury it so it never emerges.
That not a ray of light will shed on it.

Now comes the hardest part.
Try,
Because you just have to.
So try...

...forgetting it.
Because it never happened.

Nothing did.

Self-dignity

I used to think that I belong
At the crossroad that will lead me

Anywhere

But pieces of me won't fit
Like torn up bits of paper

I used to be afraid to tell
So I'd write letters to myself
Then I'd rip them up

To ashes
Like the sky

Of a worn out summer

The truth is, I don't know so much
When the stone crumbles,
I become worthless.

But I'm not afraid to tell you I'm scared
Because you remember all the strange things I say
& I am not hiding anymore,

You can have any part of me
Although
It was never mine to give away.

Like a sheep being herded...

Conformity. n

is the process by which an individual's attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors are influenced by other people. (Wikipedia)

We are self-conscious, that is why we conform subconsciously.
We internalize it, that it becomes a habit.

Try wearing a shirt inside-out. And your undergarments outside your clothes. Wear a toque in the summer and sandals in the winter. Drink a mix of coffee, tea, french vanilla and hot chocolate. Walk backwards up a stairs, and get to class five minutes before it ends. Keep your money in your socks, write your notes on green paper and purple ink. Say goodbye to every person you meet.

Life will be so much more interesting.
Do it.
Join the club of non-conformity!

(Hahaha...paradox/oxymoron, okay lame)

Who cares if people think you're weird.

They're just jealous that they're not as brave.
Honest.

Cookies 'n Cream

Colour my world purple
Make me giggle my tummy to ache
You're my favorite flower
& it's spring everyday.

Catch me making faces
You're cutest when you smile
You're my favorite ice-cream
& my most wonderful sunshine

When it rains and thunder,
Pinky swear with me
Promise you will always be
My sweetest honey bee.

:)

Oh, I'm so corny.
Like a can of cream of corn, or corn flakes. [Lame]

Nightfall

There’s someplace else this silver shining
Shadow casting moon
& someplace else this diamond sky
Stretches to infinity
But it doesn’t reaches you.

Like a ghost I want to live forever
Wearing these dancing shoes
With each wind that blows
Takes me over oceans
To serenade
This winter blues

In solitude, I wander beyond
Seeking a transient soul

To a fleeting moment
To someplace else,
And anywhere tonight.

Before the morning blooms.

Through lines & arrows.

Chase the crown, search the truth
Where we lie, it is the unknown.
Once upon yesterday,
I forgot my name
But you promised me,
I am wonderful.

Lying beneath Mars
& this isn't temporary.
Secret hands underneath tables
There's a universe of certainty
Witness your dreams,
Carve my reality.

Now, it's not a perfect world, my dear
but it is where we live.

& I promise you,
You're wonderful.
Always.

Eighteen.

I was walking home from campus, and for the last time before I officially turn 19, I witnessed the skies turned orange. Like every sunsets I witnessed, my stomache would sink at every second the sun descended.

Eighteen.
The year of many sunsets. I mean that both literally and figuritively.
I have had many memories, beautiful symbolic ones.
It has been a sweet year, of many accomplishments, endings and new beginnings.
It was the year of anxiety. The year I anticipated the path that laid unclear, in front of me.
It was the year of loss friendships.
It was the year I finished high school and started university. The year I made new friends.
The year I embraced the rite of passage, of graduating. It was the year of victory.
It was the year of the greatest romance I've ever had. A year of new commitments I promise I'd fulfill.

It has been a year of transitions.
A roller coaster of emotions.
And the year of maturity.

Goodbye Eighteen. You were my favourite year.
I couldn't have asked for more that what experiences I've had.

I don't know what lies ahead for me.
But I do know, it has been a wonderful year.