I've gotta get these dreams out of my head.

I was working at this small cafe and all of a sudden, this girl and guy came in. The guy stood by the door and played the guitar, while the girl walked around, singing happy go-lucky Jason Mraz-y songs. As she finished, she held out a a small red bucket and people just swarmed around her, taking out their wallets to find $20 bills. Each customer gave her a $20 and her partner traded five of them for $100 bills. By the time they were done counting, they had received more than $500 in cash from one small performance.

"impressive," I commented as I leaned against my cash register platform, intently watching the duo collect their money. The girl let out a friendly smile. The guy... He smirked.

Then we flash to another scene and I find out that my house was being sold for some reason and the guy from the cafe was there. My dad tried to break the news gently to me but I couldn't bear the thought of losing our newly acquired home. I tried to breathe, telling myself it'll be alright because we'll find a new home. Then I remembered--my garage. The walls that I spent hours decorating, filling with virtues and the most important words I could think of at the moment. I ran out and there it was--being painted over with plain old white paint. Those two walls represented who I was--the words I lived by every single day--and now it was all gone. I ran outside, so nobody could see me cry and began to sob for my home ceased to exist as my home. The guy from the cafe ran out after me and stood at the threshold for a second, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Realizing his existence and hesitation, I turned away and wiped my tears.


"What do you want?" I demanded angrily.

"I just came to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone." With each word, I felt tears rushing to my eyes again and so, I turned away, hoping that my visitor would feel unwelcomed and leave. What I didn't expect was for him to wrap his arms around me and hold me until I had no more tears left. Normally, I wouldn't let a stranger hug me--let alone, touch me--but I was at my lowest point and something about him felt so familiar, so right.

"Thanks." I gently pushed out of his arms and started back inside to my father.

"Wait!"

I turn around to see him take off his lucky bracelet and offer to put it around my wrist. At that moment, my father came out and his Papa instincts forced him to step between me and the guy from the cafe. He halted all forms of communication between us, unsure of whether or not the cafe guy was the who caused me to cry. Cafe guy stood awkwardly in his spot, still holding one hand out to offer me his bracelet but instead of transferring  it to me directly, asking my father to hand it to me. My father obliged and gave me the bracelet which I examined for a moment before putting it on. It was one of those typical friendship bracelets with streams of blue throughout and a bead in the center. One could tell it was worn often, if not daily.

Seeing that we were done, my father started back inside the house, but I slowly fell behind. I knew my father would turn around if he didn't hear my footsteps following his back inside our former home, but it didn't matter at that moment. As the guy from the cafe turned to walk away, I laid a kiss of gratitude on his cheek and scampered back inside the house. I never saw his reaction but c'est la vie. It's not like I would ever see him again. Or so I thought.

ROARLALALARANT

Jessica's not responding.
So I go on AIM... Nobody's there.
I go on Youtube... Nothing to listen to.
I go on Facebook... I don't wanna interact with anybody.
Staring at the list of unread messages on my phone. I don't wanna talk, because I know that if I do, I'll say something bad and mean and awful and horrendous that I won't ever be able to take back and that I might not mean in the future but I sure as heck mean now.

So hi there, Blogspot. (: Wow, fakest smile on the history of this planet. Definitely frowning right now.
Let's start, yeah?

I miss you and you miss me and I know I haven't been spending that much time with you, but you know why? It's 'cause every single time I do, something bad happens and I don't like that. In public, she "loves" you and smothers you with her love and praises you and acts so sweet and wonderful and then when the curtain's closed, she pushes you away, throws you in a corner, almost, dare I say, abandons you.

And I hate that. Because she's your mother and a mother's love, no matter how meager, always trumps any other person's. Always.
So this might not be true to a lot of people, but I can see it in your eyes. You yearn to be loved by her and you would anything to make her notice you, even the wrong things, but--no excuses.

Can you imagine? Going to sleep in my lap, being assured that she was going to pick you up, because I already told her two times that you could not sleep over because I was busy the next morning. And what does she do? She makes sure you're asleep, then sends your sister to call me, and tells her to tell me (yes, I can hear you over the phone, goddanggit) that they'll be picking you up tomorrow. And there I sit, stranded, stuck from holding you in my lap with no support, left with no choice. But honestly? I'd cancel whatever the heck I was doing tomorrow for you. But that's not right. Leaving your child to do your dirty work like that? How low can you stoop? And you, just lying in my lap, so innocent, probably dreaming away since you're snoring like a gramma and I never want you to wake up into this reality. I don't want you to know that she would ever leave you.

And you waking up to nobody in sight, confused by what's going on, and when it finally hits you, you start to cry. Because that's the only thing you can do. And as much as I want to help you, I can't. Because you won't talk. Because you can't stop crying. Because this is your life and you know it.

I had the privilege (some may argue, detriment, but right now, I'm sticking with privilege) of being naive and innocent for so long. Frolicking in my flowing field of flowers. And I can't help but feel sorry that you were slapped into reality so hard at such a young age. Maybe it'll make you stronger, but right now, all I see is weakness. And if this is going to be your life, you're going to have to face it. I won't always be there to hold you, to caress you, to assure you that everything's going to be okay. It's not my role to play.

I shouldn't even be crying about this because really, it has nothing to do with me. But I cry because I feel helpless. Because I am helpless. And I can't help you anymore. Because that's the only thing I can do.

You'll probably get over this in the morning. Maybe not. But I'll never get over it. Not until she makes you her first priorities. Because right now, she is, not you.

I'll always love her and I'll always love you, but I can't do this. My mother says I care too much for other people and maybe she's right. Just seeing your genuine smile brings the biggest smile to my face, but it hurts a lot when things get ugly and things turn ugly really quickly.

I'll always be this way, you know? My wall of distrust is thickening, but I'll always be here when you need me to be. Key word: need, not want. When you take advantage of me though? Nah, that's where I draw the line.



I'm sorry for all the mean words. I'm sorry for publicly talking about you like this. I'm sorry my morals prevent me from saying all this to your face.

P.S. Knowing me, y'all probably know who this is. Most likely. Just please don't say anything. No questions/comments/etc. Please don't let my judgmental judgment influence your view of anybody ever.

Chinese Drama version of Mulan

So they're betrayed by their own commanders, surrounded by enemies at a dead-end, basically waiting to die, and Mulan and their version of Shang are stroking each others' hair. I'm sitting here, screaming at the TV, "STOP BEING SUCH A GIRL! DO SOMETHING, GEEZUS!!!" and they just keep crying and caressing and the supposedly romantic moment just sickened me. Then in another scene, a soldier couldn't bear to stand by and watch his fellow friend die so he ran out to try to do something and got shot on the spot by the enemy. And this is when I choose to bawl. I'm telling you, these dang war scenes always get me.

Too much action for one weekend.

Paintball was a blast. XD I always knew I liked shooting games, just not real shooting. Unfortunately, lots of people got hurt--I mean, battle scars--but call my craycray, I kinda wanted one, y'know? The whole paintball experience. I mean, what's paintball without a few bruises? (: I guess, in a sense, fortunately, I didn't get any. Butthead didn't either (: hehe, she can finly cross it off her bucket list! <3 She didn't enjoy it as much as I did though. Even though I couldn't breathe after those two rounds of Capture the Flag. XD haha, I didn't faint though! YES, I'm getting better at this physical stuff! uh, what else? Oh yeah, BECAUSE I was so afraid of bruising, I wore my Eskimo down bomber jacket, which was a bad idea, guys. Don't do it! XD in the end, most of us looked like ... Well, unfortunately we didn't take a picture. I think we all died from the heat and the moving and allathat, but if you can imagine Me, Michelle, Jessica, Joanna, Angeline, Tam, Scott, Brian, Kevin, Louis, and Daniel all rolled up in dirt and then steamed for several hours, well you've got a pretty clear image of what we looked like. My arm is still sore from holding the gun and running and shooting, but boy, I'd do it all over again if I could! (: preferably in the winter, yeah? XD got headshotted several times, out. Then on the butt several times but the paint never exploded so hah! according to the rules, I'm still in the game! XD run Emily run! Thanks to Louis, Scott, and Brian for covering me. LOL, the Buttheads dropped so many paintballs accidentally, whoops. And Jessica was trying to make her shoes more paint-splattered so she kept trying to manually break the paintballs to prettify her shoes. Then she squeezed some on mine and that just looked like bird poo or mustard. Whichever works. P.S. to the guy whom I shot in the neck, I'm sorry if it hurts. I didn't mean it; I was aiming for your head. If only you'd been a bit shorter...

Some crashed at my house after and then off to

Jessica's dinner which she didn't approve of, but still, finally got it over with. (: Dang sour patch kid. Hope you enjoyed yourself though. With the people you supposedly love, minus Julina and Jaime. HOBOS covered in dirt and whatnot at Buca, ftw. Placed in the corner where the provocative art was, heck yeah. Then ran into PHHS Radix(?) teachers/classmates, lovely awkwardness. Jodie creamed Jessica who creamed her back and then dragged the Buttheads into it. x_O" GRT.  Just chilled and skipped around Target. xD Then sat for the longest time in the Barbie / Polly Pocket / Monster High section. xD (Sorry for panicking about SFDK so much.)


SFDK worked out in the end, I think. xD Didn't get to see the animals but I loved the rides. xD 'Cept Superman. That ride can go rot. Not worth the 2+ hours under the scorching sun. & they needa play more songs. xD Singing like maniacs while everybody else just stares. #YOLO, have a little fun, people. 7 people sharing one cup. Hehe, ASIAN STYLE. Got our money's worth. Hopefully nobody got sick. Haha, Benson was kinda cute. Honestly though? I'm pretty sure we would've had the same amount of fun at PGA but now at least we can say we went to SFDK in the summer! (:

& then now I'm compensating for all the action by being lethargic and lazing around the house.

Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans

• Dirt (Dyl Pick): Fail. Spit out. Cannot re-eat. Cannot swallow. Even when Tiff tried to hold his nose. I smelled it from the other side of the car.
• Black pepper (Dyl Pick): Dyl likes it. He's weird though. ("Tim too!")
• Vomit (Tiff): Can't even pretend to chew it. "horrible."
• Booger (Me): doesn't taste like booger but not bearable.
• Sausage (Me): swallowed it but almost threw up. Needed jamba juice to wash it down. Ew. Sausage aftertaste stuck in teeth. Ew. Just thinking about it makes me remember the aftertaste. Ew.
• Cinnamon (Tiff): it's okay.
• Lemon (Dyl Pick): duh it's good.
• Soap  (Dyl Pick) : soapy and disgu--delicious.
• Grass  (Dyl Pick) : "I tasted grass before! It tastes like grass!"
• Green Apple: car ate it. Sadness. ):

"50 Ways To Say Goodbye" - Train

• Phantom of the Opera spinoff?
• Mariachi band.
• Revenge song.
• Guest cameos.

= new replay song (:

Dreamcatcher failed today.

I don't exactly remember the order of events... but I do remember going on a roadtrip and we like went through some kind of crazy time-travel tunnel/bridge and ended up at this... home depot? Where they were selling all sorts of tiles/bricks/whatnot but this place was special cause there were a whole bunch of men in cubbies (yess, cubbies... like each man was stuffed individually in a tiny box where he literally had to crouch down) and each man had a different sort of tile and they just kept carving names in the tiles. Constantly carving random names with a chisel.

Then I found a note (from you)... a bunch of scribbles which I couldn't read (and trust me, I tried very hard to decipher your handwriting). All I could make out was:

dancing in the moonlight.

in cursive at the bottom. Then... Tracy(?) looked over my shoulder and started giggling and I had no idea why. & I set off to find you.

I never did find you; maybe the note wasn't from you and I was just imagining things. Instead, Skype somehow transported my family from Vietnam to here (right inside my house!) and I was really excited and happy and all things wonderful. Be Phuong started running around in circles... accelerating and we couldn't stop her but she was really hyper and happy and then Rapunzel from Tangled did all these karate moves to try to stop her.

Then my ma woke me up.

Now for the analysis:

• Home Depot tile place: Chet Trung and Xiem My came over while I was sleeping and examined the tiles in my bathroom because they're planning on remodeling their bathrooms. The men stuffed in cubbies... I have no idea where they came from; I swear I wasn't thinking of stuffing men in cubbies!
• The note: Absolutely no idea. I wasn't even thinking of you yesterday. x_O"
• Family from Vietnam: Maybe 'cause I miss them and everybody's going places to visit family and I'm not? Rapunzel... well I did text Butthead yesterday?