Monday, October 25, 2010

Technical Difficulties

Hey, everyone! My computer crashed this weekend, so I'm unable to get any work done without running around all over the campus to find a computer or a person who has a computer. Not only did my computer break down but I also have homework and two midterms on top of that. So, I can't really do anything for the next week or so, but I'll try my best to be up and running as soon as possible.

Try reading some older stuff and comment on them, there'll be a contest for my one year blog-a-versary based on some of my works.

Lastly, write on!

Saturday, October 23, 2010

The Wishing Well: A Poem

(A raw, unedited poem from a story idea I had earlier this week.)

She came up to her best of friends,
Saying, “Hi,” once again,
But this time he didn’t respond,
Like he used to,
With a smile and a nod,
But instead with a confused look on his face,
He did not know who she was,
Or why she was saying “Hi.”
“Do I know you?”
“Come on, Michael! It’s me, Sue.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone by that name.”
So, he started walking away.

A coin flipped in the darkness of Michael’s mind,
Swallowed up by the waters of time,
Sinking into the depths of an abyss,
Never to be remembered again.

Sue was becoming frantic
And couldn’t believe
The joke that Michael was pulling.
She grabbed him by the shoulder,
Turned him around,
And she frowned at the sight
Of his black, blank eyes.
“Michael, please stop joking. It’s not funny anymore.
You don’t remember me from all those times before?
The laughs, the cries, the sighs,
The memories we had together,
With each other,
You were like my brother!
And now you’ve done this,
Something I can never forgive!”

Tears began rolling down her eyes
As Michael stared blankly,
Still the coin spinning in the depths of a well,
That’s all his mind was stuck on because of this spell,
Ever time he stared at her trying to think,
He only thought of the coin disappearing
Into the darkness,
Into the waters,
And gone forever.

“When was the last time I saw you?” Michael had asked,
She pushed her tears away with the back of her hands,
“I can’t believe you’re asking me this,” she said.
“It was in front of that well, we were both making a wish.”

Then, Michael’s mind flashed,
About what was his wish,
He recalled,
That she said of all the things that they did together,
She was beautiful and seemed like the one he would want to spend with forever,
So he must’ve wished to have never loved her,
To completely forget her,
Her and all the memories they had,
Which was the only way to turn back time,
To go back and erase all that had become,
To end his broken heart with a simple wish,
He remembers being in front of that stupid hole,
Wishing to not love someone anymore,
The next morning, he awoke,
And everything was the same
Until she came up to him today,
Made him turn her way,
Stare her in the eyes and say “Hi,” again,
But it was all different now,
Because of that wish.

“I’m sorry, Sue.
I don’t know you.”
He said as the coin and his heart both sunk deeper,
As Sue collapsed onto the ground,
Both of her legs gave out,
To the weight of those words,
That Michael had thrown at her,
“We were the best of friends,”
She repeated to herself over and over again,
But that would never change the wish,
That would never change what had just happened,
He could not take back his words,
He could not take back his wish,
Sue just sat there crying,
Remembering the night before,
Wishing also at the well,
That maybe as time goes on,
They could fall in love,
But in the power of wills,
Michael’s wish had won,
His wanting to forget overpowered her wanting to fall in love,

So in the end,
They were never really friends.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

A Mental Snack (37)

Share your thoughts...

"After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul and you learn that love doesn't mean learning and company doesn't always mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes ahead with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure you really are strong you really do have worth and you learn and you learn with every goodbye, you learn..." ~ Veronica A. Shooffstall

What are some things you've learned after living for a while? What are some things you want to learn? Is there ever a regret for knowing something or for knowing too much? Share your thoughts, share your experiences, share your mind. 

Monday, October 18, 2010

Waiting for the End: A Poem

(A raw, unedited poem from my Idea Book)

Cities are half of what they used to be,
Rubble, ashes, smoke, and catastrophe
Run amuck, stuck, and some can’t breathe,
One, two, three,
They count their steps as they walk through the urban jungle,
Crossing the streets that no longer have signs,
Two survivors walk, a husband and a wife,
Hand in hand,
They withstand
All the troubles of the world,
Gave their souls to each other,
They are lovers
In a world where love is scarce,
Where fear, violence, and paranoia is everywhere.

It all started with a giant explosion,
Bodies painted on the floor in radioactive green,
Not a beautiful scene
Unless you were on the other side
But then they realized
How much damage they had caused
When the radioactivity spread
To the animals, oceans, and finally to the world,
The air became so cold
It no longer snowed, but rained ash,
The heavens cried dark, dirty tears,
As the two lovers walked across the wasteland
That they both once called home.

Home used to be a place of sunshine,
Little children chasing butterflies,
Lemonade on a hot day and watching a football game,
But all of that came to an abrupt end
When the world decided to fight,
Fight for no reason at all,
Only for greed, power,
And seeing dead bodies shower
On the floors of the enemies terrain,
The lovers walked still holding hands,
They looked in each other’s eyes
And then toward the sky,

Backpacks hung from one shoulder,
Shoes covered in dirt,
Shopping carts full of canned foods,
In the end, they knew
How it was going to be,
This life was no life,
This life was hell,
This life was not the life that the lovers dreamt of,
They dreamt of happiness, a comfortable bed,
Whispers in the night and each other’s warmth,
But what they got instead,
Was both of them wishing for an end
To all the suffering, to all the hate,
To be done with this state of mind
To open both of their eyes
And no longer see unmarked graves
Or bones that don’t have homes,
They wanted to see flowers,
Signs of life,
They wished for everything to be the way it once was,
But there is nothing left,
Only the memories of a place that once was,
And once those memories are gone,
Then, this world can die
And maybe start over again.

The two lovers wait
For the fateful day
When they’ll be taken away
As they stare at the stars
Near the fire,
There only source of light and warmth,
And wish the world will be reborn again
Even if they are not in that world,
They wish for the happiness of others,
Because they were selfless and kind,
Unlike the rest,
And they believed that the world, during these dark times,
Needed some hope, some flash of light,
So, they wished.   

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Drinking the Night Away: A Poem

(A poem based off a lucid dream.)

Right now.
Drinks go down
People’s throats
They laugh and scream
‘til there’s nothing left to drink.
The music is loud
They are so proud
That the party is finally beginning.

The music gets louder
And everyone screams and shouts
That they are having
The time of their lives,
Their eyes,
Twist and twirl,
While the lights flicker on and off
They say that they will never stop
Until they pass out
Until the night takes them away.

Shadows dance on the walls,
People dance extremely close
As they feel each other’s breaths on each other’s skin,
They drink to salute, to toast, to celebrate,
They drink to a friend, to a lover, but never to an end,
They drink to a lost love, a relative, and to the rest of their lives,
They drink and drink,
But in the end, no one will survive
The consequences that will happen
That will forever be in their minds as the day one of their friends died.

She danced and danced
But had no control,
“She felt the music in her soul,”
Is what she said.
But she had no feeling left.
First her feet let her go,
As she planted face first into the floor,
People rushed to see what was wrong,
Her arms then turned to strings,
Her eyes were still alive,
Just barely moving
Like her pulse, the beat of her heart.

They took her to a bed
Fanned her, made her drink water,
Tried to get her better,
But she was gone for the night,
Gone for good,
So they left her there and out of sight,
They thought she was asleep,
But they were all wrong,
When the next morning the room didn’t smell like alcohol,
But a dead body.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

A Mental Snack (36)

Share your thoughts...

"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun." ~ Jon Krakuer

What is one change in your life that you're glad happened? 

Monday, October 11, 2010

Personal Pen Pal

Nothing ever really happens according to plan. I don’t know who I’m going to end up meeting today unless it was scheduled, who I’m going to bump into, how hard the lecture will be for a certain class, and if eating the wrong food will give me indigestion for the next week. Hundreds of variables come into play throughout the course of a day. Life isn’t something I can map out. Life is always full of surprises. And the only constant in life is change.

And there have been many changes so far, but the biggest change is probably the whole idea of moving into a new dorm and having a new home. But there have been other minor changes in my life with this one dramatic change.
As you, my dear readers, have noticed that I haven’t been responding to your comments like I used to. Well, the main reason for this is not only because of keeping up with my classes, but also because one of my friends stated that I just either agree or disagree with what the commentator says, paraphrase it, give a small experience of mine or insight, and end with a thank you. And I knew that he was right.

I followed a formula, sort of with the commenting on this blog and I thought it was really impersonal. So, to change this style I’ve thought of a better idea. If you want, you can either email me or write me a personal hand-written or typed letter because now I have my own mailing address with the dorm. And I will respond to you, your comments, and your thoughts in a personal letter back and it will be like a pen-pal system. We will get closer in this reader-to-author relationship and I would love to put it up on my wall.
Yes, I have this project that I came up with before moving in. I knew that there’ll be a progression in my life, so in a way of documenting this progression I would post all those things that changed me (in a major or minor way) onto the wall that is close to my bed.

I’ve already started and in only three weeks one-fourth of my wall is covered. I’m amazed at all the letters I’ve already received, the glow sticks from parties, the games I’ve played with my hall, the pictures we’ve taken together, and the tickets to events I’ve been to with friends. So, I’ll make it way more personal than just some comment on a random blog post on the almighty internet. I’ll talk to you not in a formula, but I’ll talk to you like a friend. I’ll tell you about my day, my week, my friends, and you can share with me your thoughts and stories as well. We can have philosophical discussions, talk about writing, reading, and anything else. So, hit me up when you have the time. It doesn’t even have to be long. A paragraph will do. An essay. A funny joke you heard this morning.  Anything.
So, grab a pen, a piece of paper, a stamp, and an envelope and write your thoughts out. Or go to your email account and type up something. I would love to get to know my readers on a deeper, more personal level, and become a pen pal.

My Full Name: Vatche Yousefian

Address: 4015 Mesa Rd. #202C
               Irvine, CA    92617

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Believe: A Poem

(Some raw, unedited poetry from my dream journal)
Right now,
An origami swan
Is wished upon
Wished that it could fly
Across the sky
By a little girl
That has blonde pigtails
As she curls up in bed
Her knees pressed against her chest
She fiddles with the paper
In between her fingers
Folds the creases again and again
Wishing and wishing that she was a swan instead
Of a human being
Because she hates being taunted in school,
The quizzes and the tests,
Getting up early from bed,
And being bullied everyday
She looked at her arms
Flapped them as if they were wings
Looked at the mirror and noticed no change,
No feathers,
No beak.

She wished that she wasn’t born human,
Her parents fight all the time,
She is never free,
And is teased.
No one can tease a swan
The most graceful of all creatures
The way her neck would wane
The way she will glide across the ponds
And fly high enough to touch the clouds.
She wished and did not transform,
She only stared at the origami swan even more,
Hated it for being the thing she wanted to be,
Hated it for how the paper molded into a beautiful swan so easily,
She hated it and started to cry,
She ripped it to shreds and then slept.
The next morning,
She found that all the shreds of paper
Were replaced with feathers
Of an elegant white
She looked out her window
And saw the swan take flight.

Maybe, just maybe, there is hope in the world.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

A Mental Snack (35)

Share your thoughts...

"I used to feel so alone in the city. All those gazillions of people and then me, on the outside. Because how do you meet a new person? I was very stumped by this for many years. And then I realized, you just say, 'Hi.' They may ignore you. Or you may marry them. And that possibility is worth that one word." ~ Augusten Burroughs

How do you usually introduce yourself to people? Do you give them a handshake? Do you give them a warm hug? Say, "Hi!" or "What's up?" Start off with a joke? A personal story? What is one of the most awkward first-time meetings you've ever had? 

Monday, October 4, 2010

Embracing My Home

Home is a word that can mean a lot of things to a single person. It can mean a person’s dorm room, a person’s family, the four walls that surround him/her, or is a place that protects a person when it rains. It can also be more abstract. Home can be in a person’s heart or being in a certain state of mind. My definition of home is something different from probably what a lot of other people think. Home for me is a place, a very special place. Home is in the arms of someone who loves me.

So, I feel home every time I hug someone who is special to me. Whether it’s my dog, my aunt, my mom, my brother, my dad, my friends, my neighbors or my cousins. That’s when I know I’m home. I feel their grasps around my waist or shoulders, their heavy breaths on my neck, their giggles near my ears, their tears on my cheeks, or their sweet kisses. All of these feelings sum up only some of what I feel when I am home.
It was hard to feel at home in a new dorm where I didn’t know anybody, but I eventually opened up like a blooming bud. I found some friends that I can consider home. Yes, home is a real, living, breathing thing to me. Home is a person. But this can also be a double-edged sword, because what I consider home might reject me or push me away. I’ve had friends that I trusted, lie to me, betray me, manipulate or use me. Home can be just as much as a scary place as a good one. When a person that I love turns on me, home isn’t what I feel. It feels as though my home was wearing a mask and tried to be something that it wasn’t.
When I moved into my dorm at UCI, I felt as though I was homeless, because I had no open arms for me to huddle in to protect me. So, I went searching for my homes and I eventually found them to be just as the good ones back in Los Angeles.
This weekend, I went back to LA, and revisited the homes that I previously had.  Melissa, Melanie, Rafi, Francesca, my brother, my mom, my aunt, and my dad. It felt strange because it felt as though Irvine was just a dream. Or perhaps, coming back to LA is a dream and that Irvine is the reality. It was a strange feeling to have two separate lives. One in UCI, the other in LA. It felt as though I was at two places at once. So many places where I called “home.”
To see how much I’ve affected so many people’s lives just by existing, just by having them be my homes, was surprising. My homes missed me, on both sides of the spectrum, in Irvine and in LA. When they see me, they invite me in with those big open arms, which I gladly step into with a smile. I feel their thoughts through their touch. The more the squeeze me, the more that they’ve missed having me be around. The more out of breath I am, the better.

I’m glad to call the people in my life, my home. 

Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Wheel of Life Keeps Turning

I’m sorry I’ve been out for more than a week, but I’m finally back! It’s rough to adjust to this new community known as the Sierra dorm in the University of California, Irvine (UCI). It’s rough because I had to leave so much behind. I had to leave behind my bed, my family, my friends, a comfortable shower, a private bathroom, but I think it’s worth it. It’s worth it because in return I found some new friends, how to juggle shampoo, soap, and clothes in the shower, that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and that public bathrooms are not as scary as they once seemed to be.

College is way different than high school. I’ve only been there for two weeks, but it seems much, much longer. It’s different because in high school I lived week by strenuous week, but in college, the days and weeks collide and switch places. In college, I live everything day by day and in the moment, which is a very different change of pace. Classes are different everyday and there isn’t much of a pattern. If you think there is a pattern though and you get used to it, the pattern is bound to change in an instant.

It was difficult to wave goodbye to all of my friends and give them my last hugs, but I came to my dorm, Sierra, with an open mind and ready to make some new friends even if it was going to be awkward at first.

I introduced myself not as Vatche, but as Stitch, my nickname given to me by my friends, because it was a lot easier to remember. How can you forget someone named Stitch? So, by the end of my first day of moving-in, everyone practically knew me before I even knew them. I would introduce myself and put out my hand and they would say, “OH! You’re Stitch!” I didn’t even do anything and I became “infamous” as one of my dorm-mates said.

Adjusting to the food wasn’t an easy task either. I’ve gotten my fair share of the Common’s Cafeteria Curse and became very friendly with the public bathrooms in the Sierra dorm over the course of a few days. When my stomach finally adjusted, most of the worst parts of college were over.

My roommate is a funny guy named Jonathan and so far barely any problems have occurred between the two of us. We have our small talks about what are some of the best comedians, what’s good music, and when to get out of the room while the other roommate is doing something private. He’s cool and though I’m not that close to him yet, I hope that over the course of this year we will embrace each other’s differences.
Besides all of this, I have also several upperclassmen in my dorm that are there to help me understand the theme of the Sierra dorm, which is diversity. There is the Resident Advisor, Melyssa, who has inspired me to become a leader for the dorm and I’ve inspired her to get her own Idea Binder started. Elena, who I can come talk to about anything, even though she’s a quiet person. She’s there for me and I’m there for her. Nathan, who is one of the very few writers at UCI, has much in common with me and has already become a sort of big brother to me. Zac who has my similar taste in music, makes the funniest of sounds, and is always fooling around. Alex, the other jokester, is always smiling, the “Panda” in our dorm, and is the champ of Super Smash Bros. Dalia, who looks like she takes shit from nobody, is actually a kind-hearted soul, who loves to bring people together, and is secretly a klutz. Amy, who has the cutest voice, when she laughs she slaps her knees, and she’s always there to give me a hug when I need one. Lastly, Kaitlyn, who is not there as often as all the others, but makes an effort to ask me how my day has been and smile. This is the Sierra staff that are slowly molding into part of my life and becoming a part of my family. Each of them added themselves to my puzzle board of life.
This is my life in Sierra for right now, I’ll be sure to keep all of you, readers, updated every week. Slowly, the Sierra dorm is transforming into my new home and I’m proud to be a part of the Sierra family.