Solitude

I am a single man - an individual -
undaunted by public displays of affection,
unshaken by the pairing and coupling of others.
These symbiotic relations have made them weak,
their freedoms restrained, their hearts softened.
Who needs that?

I can, at a whim, drive to nowhere
and gaze at the light of the stars,
observing the music of the heavens.
I would take in the awe and majesty
of the universe unfurled around me,
and know the meaning of life.

I can hike into the woods
and embrace the beauty of nature -
the sound of crunching leaves, the fires of autumn,
the soundscapes of brooks and creatures.
I would be one with the breath of the trees,
and know peace and solace.

I can lay on the warm sands of the beach
and listen to the rhythms of the rolling waves.
I would dig my toes into the sand,
feel the wind and sun on my face -
close my eyes, inhale deep,
and know relaxation.

I can stay in on a cold winter day
and bake a warm pie while sipping hot tea.
I would curl under a blanket on the couch,
watching the snow falling ever so gently.
I am content and satisfied,
as this is comfort.

I run on my own schedule,
my time is mine, my thoughts and actions are mine.
I need no reminding of the pairing and coupling
that defines the life-course of others.
I am a single man - an individual -
and I with nothing more than to share it with you.

Let . . .

Breathe by ~theflickerees on deviantART

Come here, lay with me,
Inhaling our breathes
together
On this lazy summer day.

Let the sun
caress us
in its warm embrace,
Let the breeze
fill us
with the breath of life.

And we may gaze
at the clouds
And imagine
sweet dreams of tomorrow.

Let us enjoy this day
together;
Nothing to do,
Nowhere to go,
Just lounging around
in each other's company.

Let us close our eyes
and pretend,
Just for a moment,
That the world
stopped turning
And that time
gave pause.

That it is just
you and me -
Whoever you are,
Wherever you are,
Exhaling with me
the breath of yesterday.

Under the Shadow of Leaves

It is a good day.

I sit on a stone bench under the shadow of leaves, the sun poking through as if light were leaking through the green canopy. Looking out, the sky is clear blue except for the presence of a few wispy clouds. The day is bright and full of colors forgotten in the seasons prior.

I close my eyes and hear the sounds of toddlers and children laughing, of students talking, of many feet walking by. I wonder, how many hundreds of thousands of people have passed this point? What were they thinking as they passed by? The birds above sing their chorus in a language I cannot decipher. Far off a group of people are playing some instruments - a guitar and some drums. Though unrefined and unpolished, the sounds mix organically into carefree music.

A breeze blows by, carrying with it the scent of approaching summer. It is the smell of leaves, of living wood, of flowers, of the stone buildings - sentinels that resist the wear of time. It is the smell of life itself, and nourishes my lungs in a way I had taken for granted. I hold out my hands and arms into the breeze, as if to slow it down or capture it. Instead, the invisible force flows up over and down under my arms. It flows between my fingers, eddying slightly and briefly into an almost tangible ball in the palm of my hands. It feels as though I was almost able to grasp the breath of the world.

Something speaks to me, faint just beyond the detection of my senses. I see nothing, hear no words, smell no source, touch no object - but it is there. It surrounds me like an emotion but is not an emotion. Suddenly it feels as if things will be okay. And all those times I have tried to believe, to rationally seek answers to the mysteries, to understand that which cannot be tested, all this does not matter. It is there, it is here, and somehow I know things will be okay.

I open my eyes and walk away from my stone bench, away out from under the shadow of leaves. I am cloaked in the day and the moment and the world and this mystery. I will be okay.

It is a good day.
-----
A small prose passage. A memory - a snapshot capturing what I feel on the best of days. It is curious how I never expect it but always welcomed, replenishing my inner strength.

You may have noticed my new blog title banner thing. I'd like to give a HUGE shout out to J of Southern Inebriation for designing it for me at my request (he's an art major, can you tell?). I will explain the 5 panels of this banner from the left to the right:

The first panel is of Chinese opera masks and the Great Wall. It represents my background: being Chinese, culture and language has been a huge influence in my life (sometimes good, sometimes bad). The second panel is of a stethoscope on a book. It represents my future, my goals and aspirations: for a long time I have worked my ass off towards getting into medical school and (hopefully) I will come out poised to be an excellent doctor. The third panel you should all recognize as the smiley face banner I had previously. It represents outlet and others: it is this blog and all of you who read, and all of you I talk to. The fourth panel is of a flower I took while visiting a clinic in China. It represents life: I was a biology major in undergrad not primarily because it's the "easiest" path to medical school, but because it can give one an appreciation for life - for all its complexities, and mysteries, and frailty, and endurance. The last panel is of a ghostly mask of sorts. It represents conflict and struggle: all the uncertainty and frustration that being bi/gay brings and a kind of loneliness that comes with an inability to find "the one."

Finally, to conclude this post, I would like to give a shout out to the following 3 blogs that I've had the pleasure to read fully on. They may need no introduction as many of you already read them, but if not, do go over and say hi! And they are:

Enjoying the Journey
Hellogenation
Overrated Integrity

No Time!

Sorry for not posting in . . . a week?! Hmm, it's been a week. And it's past 5am right now. Why am I still awake? Good question you might be wondering.

Today (yesterday? Tuesday) I had my biostatistics exam. I swear that class is out to get me. At the very least I managed to finish every question and write something down. I think towards the end I was just trying to come up with ways to manipulate the equations to create an answer that remotely made sense. I also made mistakes on question 2 (there were only 4 questions) over and over again, and spent like half an hour re-writing my answers. -_-

I was somewhat fried by the time I had to teach discussion section today. At least that's something I'm good at, so I'm told. My friend, EA-F, is friends with one of the girls in my Tuesday's discussion section. Apparently I'm one of her favorite GSIs because I explain things really clearly and I seem personable and approachable. W00t! ^_^

Anyway, to the point of this post so I can sleep. Why am I still awake? Because I just wrote 2 papers back-to-back in one sitting (starting at around 7pm). Granted, the first paper I've been working on for about 2-3 days now. But it's 10 pages, single-spaced. The second paper is at least 5 pages, double-spaced. All I have to say is this about the 2nd paper: Worst. Essay. Ever. That's saying a lot because I pride myself on my essay-writing abilities. Good thing neither essay is due until Friday, but since I'm leaving early Friday for China, I really have to have it all done by Thursday evening.

I need to spend tomorrow (wait . . . today, Wednesday?) MASSIVELY editing my papers and studying for my cancer epidemiology exam on Thursday. Argh. AND I still have to meet with my group on Thursday to work on our paper and presentation on non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Do not want. I already spent 1.5 hours creating 11 (really nice, btw) slides in PowerPoint.

I have NO TIME!!! T.T

I must release some of this stress so I don't get another "stress" cold on top of the one I'm JUST recovering from. Maybe a quickie before bed . . . might help me sleep faster. Ah, 4.5 hours of sleep here I come.

Mask of the Writer

Why do I write? Why do I like to write? Why am I writing here? Ah, the questions I think I haven't answered before. It is, actually, somewhat strange for me to write a blog. But I am also simultaneously maintaining a LiveJournal account as well, though it's been in a state of semi-neglect lately (probably due to this blog). But I'm jumping ahead, first back to the beginning.

The Mask of the Writer is an old one. Truth be told, I used to hate writing. English was my worst subject in elementary and middle school. I wasn't bad in that I didn't get A's, because I did, but it was my worst because I wasn't able to capture its nuances. I was particularly bad at grammar - caused me much grief. But my 11th grade English teacher was amazing. Of course she was, she held a law degree. She taught us the essay - my chosen style of writing. With it I was able to analyze text and support arguments in my papers with sufficient evidence. And we had to be careful not to take things out of context. Finally, I had a way to discover, analyze, and play with the nuances of the English language. If I had the inclination, I would probably choose pre-law instead of pre-med owing to my writing style. But I don't have that inclination, so whatever.

Every time I write something substantial donning this Mask, it comes out at least essay-like. It tends to have a particular structure and form, with particular details of support and order. Granted, writing in a blog/journal is still free-form in ways an essay cannot be. Anyway, pardon me if things sound too rigid and formed - it's just how I write.

Now, in my sophomore year of college I opened a free LiveJournal account that I still post on from time to time. It was mostly somewhere I could rant and vent, as well as comment on my friends' LiveJournal accounts. I stuck to mostly "my day" things - things that generally weren't very private/personal. And of course, I started this blog where my identity is, as far as I know, still anonymous, something that's become more precious than I'd thought.

But why do I write? It serves many purposes. The most apparent one is to record my thoughts and events so that I may come back to it. Memory is an imperfect thing, and writing is one way of ingraining that memory elsewhere, to be revisited later. Through this, I am able to go back and read my old posts - which I do from time to time - and see exactly how I've changed. The changes are subtle, I admit. I don't think I'm one of those people who drastically change from one year to the next, etc. It's a slow progression with me, I think. And writing lets me see and follow that on a timescale that makes sense.

Another reason is rather morbid. But writing leaves some trace of my being behind. Who knows if I am to die today, or tomorrow, or the day after. There's always that uncertainty and I'm occasionally reminded of it. For example, a person I know who went to Cal Tech just died a few days ago. He was 20, and he wasn't feeling well. About half an hour later he had a heart attack and died, even though he was promptly rushed to the hospital. Just like that, with no prior health condition, with no warning, sudden death by a heart attack. How does that happen?! Why do things like that happen?! It's scary to even think about. And so I write - to remind myself that I was alive, that I am still alive. It's like leaving a part of me with whoever reads this.

But why write this, and why here? What do I hope to achieve? I don't know if I have a good answer to that. A part of it is to organize my thoughts, to clear the debris in my mind and help me focus. A part of it is to help me figure myself out: who/what I am, where I've been, where I stand, where I'm heading, and where I may want to go. All are ambiguous questions that aren't easily answered, because again, who knows what tomorrow brings.

I write here, on this blog, also as way of telling me to not hide that hidden part of me. And perhaps readers stumbling across this might be touched (I doubt it?), who knows. Here a part of me lives behind several masks, only the eyes and voices showing. And at the end of this, I hope to take off those masks one by one. And at the end of this, I hope to see me, strange as that sounds. But perhaps there are many "me," I don't know but I intend on finding out eventually.

As always, you're welcome to read, support/criticize, and comment as you please. I don't offend that easily. Soon though, I might create an email and AIM screen name just for this blog. So when I do, don't hesitate to say "hi" and such!

---TANGENT---
Okay, I've fully read and caught up on several blogs. They have been added to the sidebar and are as follows:

Falling off a log
Figuring Myself Out
Minding the Heart
Naughty Confucius

So yeah, check them out if you haven't already!
---END TANGENT---