When I’m Dead…

“When I’m dead,

Everyone will say that I was beautiful

That I was special;

And that they loved me

But now that I’m alive,

Everyone says that I am ugly;

That I’m just like everyone else;

And no one really shows that they love me

So maybe I ‘m better off dead;



I didn’t come up with this quote, but I identify with it to some extent. Although, I doubt I will be beautiful in death just like how I know I’m ugly in life. I’m not like everyone else because I don’t feel human. I feel alien and outcasted. Being alive is definitely more tiring than being dead since the commonly held belief is that you enter an eternal slumber.

This quote served as the inspiration to one of my poem’s, The Little Alien. Please check it out if you have time.


My Hope

Once again we meet by the window side. We stare pleasantly across the glass.

As usual you make faces as I laugh along with the beat of my earphones. Our

images connect in comprehension. But once again, it’s time for goodbyes. As

my music fades away, you fade along with it.


They say goodbyes are the start of a new beginning, but I believe we never ended.

I still hold a wish deep in my heart–a hope. My hope is that we will meet again. I’m

sure  of it as day turns to night. As sure as life and death. My hope continues to grow

as memories of you flood over our glass window. I may not have been able to hear.

You may not have been able to see. But I hope we will each be able to convey words

and images lost across that window side. Words and images that conveyed for the last

time a goodbye and you–my hope.

Resolutions? Anyone?

I want to try to focus and explore 6 areas this year. I hope to improve in all and possibly find myself as I’ve felt lost and confused lately.

Spiritual: Yes, I do want to try and read and understand the Bible better. I want to be able to pray more and follow my parents lead. TB Joshua will help a lot for this.

Languages: I want to be more diligent in language learning, specifically Japanese and Korean. Try to explore new areas! Pen pals? Friends? Travel? Also, try European languages, specifically Scandinavian (Swedish).

Writing: Try to get better at writing and try writing different genres and things. Maybe shoot for a blog, too?

Medical: For college, my parents really want me to go do something in the medical field, but I’m still not sure…although, there are a lot of interesting careers.

Exercise: Try to be more active and healthy in general. Lose weight, you pig! Dance, pilates, a sport–do something! But don’t push yourself and no unhealthy habits ( no anorexia or bulimia or whatever–no matter how much you want to lose weight!)

Music: Ok, so why not try to explore music a bit more? I’ve looked at my past things from a few years back and my dream/future career was music (surprised me, too). I’ve started to try to write lyrics/lyrical stories and it would be nice to combine fluency (future) in other languages with my lyrics. Explore and try out things new and old!

Sea Form Sentiments

Closing my eyes to the sound of crashing waves causes my heart to stir with nostalgia of a lost time. Salt sprinkles the air and crashes with the soft blues of the sky. The senses are quickly overloaded ultimately causing a short-circuit of the nerves. I float lethargically to the rhythm of the waves as I surrender myself to the beat of the ocean.

In my subconscious state, I daydream of my last days with you. Filled with warmth, affection, and sweetness—we couldn’t help but grow weary of them. Now all that remains are sea form sentiments. Sunlight, breaking through the waves, gives much needed warmth to my cold body. I bask in the heat as I reminisce over you. My senses become aligned once again. My eyes slowly open and blinking once, twice, thrice—an image of you hovers above the floating waters. I smile.

Snippet of Writing Without Thinking

Subjective feelings are written across the page confusing the senses. The world turns it’s back on the aloof and misunderstood. Shrinking into the margins are lost compassions and hopes. With it disappears a future of dreams and the rest. Lots of love and ideals are never to be found again. But that sounds wrong. How depressing is that? So, what is your response to my writing without thinking (too much anyway) or pausing?

My Writing

Writers usually write from experience, right? Not just writers, but poets, lyricists, rappers, authors, etc. draw from their everyday life experiences to illustrate and bring a touch of their own personal spirit to their work. If they are good, you may hear that voice, thoughts, opinions, and maybe part of their life story. They sacrifice a part of themselves to be heard, to be felt, and to be recognized. It’s our job to reciprocate the feeling and make it clear that we hear them.

However, I’m different. I’m a closet-case, naïve, and undeniably ignorant in plenty of areas. And due to this, I must rely on my over-abundant imagination and musings of things never to be. I haven’t fallen in love nor do I believe I will engage in a romance. Alas, it also seems my years on this planet leaves me with plenty of things yet to be experienced, too. I’m also very lost.

So, how do I write and how am I inspired? By the stories and sentiments of others mixed in with my own subjective feelings and responses. My writing, poems, stories, and lyrics (okay, I try) is a melting pot of common themes; although there are odd ones, boiled into my own perspective and fantasies. The one thing that I lack is experience and perhaps the proper discipline to write intelligible lyrics. However, I strive to be able to input my own side to the story.

This competitive, cruel, smothering, albeit, loving story of this world inhabited by the most complex and strangest creatures in existence–humans. So, why not I try to gain a footnote at least? Who knows what may happen if I try?

My Voice

My voice is silenced at once to the roar of an opposing crowd. My own thoughts are torn away from me at the shock of your cruelty. You chase away my voice and deaden my thoughts. In a world of a billion voices, I can’t back down in being heard–cause out of all these voices, many are silent, many are struggling, and others just don’t know what to say. I want to be one of the voices to be heard. I’m quiet, I know, but I still have plenty to say. Locked in my heart grows grievances, sentiments, and thoughts that I can’t stop. I need an outlet–a conduit to release everything. That is why I write.