Laughter Redux

I heard a child laugh today.  It made me regain some of my sanity.  This day's off to a pretty good start.

The Grudge

It frightens me how one can invoke a killing intent over petty reasons.  All thought process and emotional stability cease to exist when a person is overwhelmed by the desire to kill.  He does not bother to think about the consequences nor does he think about how he will cover up his crime.  The only thing that moves him is the incessant chanting of his brain, "kill...kill...kill."

How many times have we said "I'll kill you" to a friend while horsing around?  Sure, it may seem like a joke at first because killing someone in the act of making merry is highly unlikely.  Yet, what are the ramifications of that statement, "I will kill you?", even when just having fun?

Could it be possible that people are inherently murderous creatures?  Maybe that is the reason why we gain satisfaction from bullying and threatening others over trivial things. 

Formspring is a prime example of the manifestation of the killing intent.  There were people who apparently found it amusing to write "Why don't you just kill yourself?" on my friend's wall.  Just what did my friend do to deserve such treatment?  How can any teenager, their life full of ambitions and blooming with forthcoming possibilities for greatness, be urged to give up their lives for the satisfaction of crude, immature individuals?

Life is something that cannot be taken on a whim.  Yes, the idea of a despicable person being liquidated is temporarily satisfying, but remember that even the most disliked person has friends, lovers, and dreams. 

Today, I was the victim of my own killing intent.  I rose from my bed, half-frenzied from sleep-deprivation and stress, and grudgingly boarded the school bus to begin my day.  When I got to school I encountered my reagent to my killing intent.  It was a girl that had used her good looks and charm to screw with my head and make a complete asinine out of myself.  She was chattering away with another guy, who was completely unaware that this cute-looking girl had hurt countless number of other people with her persona. 

I looked at the girl.  Her face broad with an ingratiating smile and her body curved in a coy posture, she resembled a teenage Mrs. Robinson.  My anger at her boiled over.  She seemed so nonchalant about herself that it made me want to smash the glass door through which I was observing the whole scene.  My hands curled into fists and my jaw began to ache from being clenched so hard.  I imagined myself running her through with a knife.  As I envisioned this, my lips twisted into a crooked smile.

Then the killing intent dissipated.  For the rest of the day, I felt awful for having had such cruel and violent thoughts.  I wanted to cry when I got home but I was too numb from my killing intent to do so.  I never imagined that I could have had such a vivid murder scene conjured in my very own head just because some girl had irked me with her insincerity.  God, I felt terrible.  I almost wished that I was the one who was dead.

Today, I had demonstrated that I too, am crude and immature.  The only difference between the Formspring bullies and I is that I had kept my killing intent to myself.  But otherwise, we are all the same.  We are always at each other's throats, ready to strike at the moment a bare spot is unveiled.

Can we ever be freed of this killing intent?  Can we ever learn to genuinely love each other?  I wish I could forgive people and move on, but to no avail; I still hold grudges against people that certainly don't deserve them.  I get annoyed even at well-acquainted friends when they reveal their flaws out of the blue.

I'm afraid I've steadily deteriorated in both character and maturity.  Hopefully there will come a time when this downward spiral comes to an end and a new chapter in my life brings to me the true meaning of virtue and happiness.  I'm not going to stop searching for that time.  I will make it happen, for no one is as miserable as the vengeful, grudge-fixated individual.

this is not poetry

So apparently
People think that
If you write with broken, short lines
It's automatically poetry
That's a stereotype
and stereotypes are bad
That's like saying
Oh, she's yellow, she must have had sushi for lunch
I actually had popcorn for lunch
Anyhow
This is OBVIOUSLY not a poem
It's simply a paragraph where I chose,
stylistically,
to break
lines
very
often

I Wanna Become a Good Kid

They tell me that I need to do this and that.  They say that I act crude and boorish and they tell me that I need to change and be more accepting and caring.  I look back at them.  Nothing.  No ideal.  No vision.  Pure sanctimony.

They tell me that I am up to no good.  So they guide me through their archive of morals and ethics and decency.  They show me pictures, stories, films, moralistic paraphernalia.  And yet while the show goes on, they flash their crooked grins and resume their self-indulgence.

Preach on.  I will listen.  Show me the way to righteousness and purity.  Show me how to become the ideal human being.  I will listen.  I will conform.  I won't complain.  I shan't rebel.  I will gladly  adhere to your sententious words.

 I wanna become a good kid after all.


Oh boy, I can't wait until the next lecture.  I will pay for the lesson, don't worry about the money, I've got it.  4:00?  ...okay, let's do this.  Time to become moralized!  I feel like I'm getting enriched everyday!  Preach on brother, preach on!  ...this program has helped me become a better person.  I am so great that I joined it.


...and yet while the show goes on, they flash their crooked grins and resume their self-indulgence.

Direction

Sometimes I wonder if parents actually remember what it is like to be in high school. They constantly tell me to treasure being young. They tell me that it's these years that will be the best years of my life.

And honest to god, I'm tired of being young. Sure when I'm older I'm going to have to think about marriage stability, and children, and bills. Sure, I'm going to have to make a living.

But as a kid, I lay awake at night wondering who I'm going to be. Wondering what direction I should be taking. Whether I'm making the right choice, whether I'm going to be happy in the end. I can't stand being ignorant. I'm in a place where I can't ask for help being this place is my life. My realities.

I wonder if parents remember those feelings.

Once upon a time there lived a very cute banana girl.

She loved to eat curry and make friends with people who yelled "ALLLAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

She had an elephant who liked to wear pink turbans and a deranged duck who had a penchant for Indian cusine.

Everyday the happy trio would go to Mecca and buy Shish Kebabs.

The banana girl loved happiness so she made a vow to bring happiness to the world.

And to this day, the banana girl fulfills her promise, one crochet at a time.


-Lucy Pei, your laughter cheers me up everyday.  I'm so glad to have become your friend.

  Minjeh

:)

Once upon a time there was a dolphin from outer space who came to visit the planet earth.
He was a brilliant musician, talented writer, amazing artist, and
he was the captain of a ship that sailed pilgrims to Mecca
he was the lead quacking duck in his entire state
he was the champion elephant rider in India
he was also a funny, caring, and genuine friend.

Happy Birthday Minjeh :)
thank you for being so amazing