Watching.

"Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into the labyrinth inside."

Instead of the cliche mental image of a stone or hedged maze, spirals of overgrown blades of grass come to mind when I read this line. It is probably influenced from the story itself, but I feel that way when I picture myself in a metaphorical self-labyrinth. Wandering aimlessly towards the center, some parts dry and barren while others are overgrown, walls shifting and changing... There's something watching me - I catch glimpses of a figure through blade gaps, its hair the same as mine, skin the same as mine, but its eyes dark and brooding and feral. It follows close but not too close and I want to tell it to go away, to leave me alone, but it knows that at times I get weak and then it can pounce, dominate, relinquish and return.

Tangible.

If only life was something I could mold with my hands - you know, pinch and drag where I see fit, smoosh everything into a ball and start all over, plan ahead and successfully follow a design... Though I do suppose that would kind of take the fun out of things.

Far gone.

I want you to very gently close your eyes.

Not tightly - just a simple touch of eyelash to a curve of cheek.

Now, listen.

Not just with your ears.

Really listen with everything you are.

Every little fiber of your being, deep down to the marrow of your bones, to every minuscule synapse, every gap between the atoms of your construction. Hear blood rush through vein in response to every thump of your heart, the air flow through delicate pathways, and most of all hear the sound of my voice; feel the soft thrum of vibrations as the sound passes from my lips through space, and know, with all of what you are, that I am here with you.

Constructive Runaway

I finished my degree in Child/Adolescent Development this spring. Since I was a preteen, I had been set on becoming some sort of educator in the future. Now, in light of everything, I’m not sure anymore.

I could become an elementary school teacher, a college professor, a child psychologist, a pediatrician, a child product designer, or an ESL professional. I could even work in an office if I so desired. And if I really wanted to go back to school and earn a degree in something totally different, I could. School has never jaded me.

Truth be told, I don’t know what I want anymore. I still heavily believe in education; I’m a huge proponent of “children are our future”, as cliché and cheesy as it may sound. Children have the highest potential to better our world. It is through quality education and learning that people avoid being ignorant, committing unintelligent acts, and can seek alternate routes to peace.

Instead of choosing something, I’m running off to another country for a year.

Sayonara, confrontation.

A year is a long time. When I think back to what I was doing around this time last year, it feels like a whole different reality. Generally speaking, a year isn’t really that long to be away from home… but it is for me. I like my life at home, my room, my privacy, heck, I’m pretty happy with the way everything in my life has been going recently.

I can’t help but feel like I’m running away from something. I would say I’m constructively up and leaving for a year, since I’ll be earning another degree, but that sense of abandon still lingers behind.

I don’t want to make a decision yet. When it comes down to it, though, if I don’t settle on something, I’ll end up with nothing.

Conversely.

Today I met with the head of the Japanese department in order to get a section of my lengthy Waseda paperwork filled out. We sat there for about an hour, sifting through what classes I needed at my home school and which ones I needed to take abroad in order to double major by the time I came back.

The head of the department congratulated me on my entry, noting that it had been one of the most competitive years to enter the program. I thanked her (it wasn't something I had not heard before) and she went on to say how 20 people applied at CSULB and 10 people applied at my home institute. And that's disregarding the 20 other campuses (only about 25 students got in CA-wide, and from my school it was just me and some other guy).

When I was sitting there I reflected aloud, "I know it was competitive... that's why I'm taking advantage of going. I'm not sure what made them choose me, but I'm determined to go."

To which she replied, "Well, your grades are great and you came highly recommended. But I know Waseda makes you go through a couple of interviews, and those can be tough for many of my students. You're very..." She made some weird gesture with a raising of her arms. "Lively, friendly, and energetic. I think they would prefer someone like that at their school since you will be very involved and make lots of friends. A lot of my students tend to be very quiet, so I think interviews may be hard for them."

I was a little stunned. This woman had only met with me twice and I had sat in on one of her classes before. I thanked her again. When I had asked my other teachers to write letters of recommendation they had said the exact same thing, with "sociable" and "outgoing" and "asks good questions" and "talkative" thrown into the mix.

It is weird how I would never think of myself that way. I tend to gravitate towards describing myself as shy, reserved, introverted and a little odd. My teachers never seem to see this in the classroom ... maybe I'm just talkative to keep myself entertained during class? Why do I perceive myself in such a typically "negative" way when others don't see it?

Just a thought.*

Meep.

I have nothing to post about, I've been happy as a little clam lately!

I'm not one of those people who says, "Things are finally turning around for me!" That's an incredibly self-pitying and self-viticmizing mindset to have (not to mention annoying beyond belief). Instead I'm going to say, "Things just keep getting better and better!" (Cue big ol' :D-like grin here). Though I'll admit, I can probably only say that because I've been fortunate enough for nothing seriously bad to have happened to me lately or...well, ever? In the past I got disgruntled with petty annoyances. I'd find little things to complain about when everything was fine, and I'd whine to myself or others I felt comfortable with. We all do this to some extent, but over the years this has just lessened and lessened. I don't know if that's the "maturity" kicking in or some other acquisition.

I feel like I've just been drifting through life, riding the waves of good things as they happen and tromping through the annoying or frustrating things with ease. Is that a boastful thing to say? Is it childish to reflect, "Well, hey, nothing bad ever happens to me?" Actually, I wouldn't really say that. I'd say something more along the lines of "Well, hey, nothing bad has ever happened to me yet." But then I'd be expecting something bad, and that's not a very positive mindset to have, is it? Okay, okay, I got it. "I'm happy. I'm grateful. No matter what may come, I'll try my best to keep it that way." I like that optimism. It's something that I had in abundance as a kid, then it just sort of melted away and reformed at times during adolescence, and now it's back. And back to stay? I hope so. :)

/end circular crazy rant

"And with that," she said matter-of-factly, "I'm going to sleep. Please do not wake me, dear, for it is in this sleep that I shall regain all my other worldly strength. I'll recharge my batteries, oil the gears and cleanse the interior... just give me some time."

"Alright,"I replied, though at that time I had been quite unsure of what exactly she was talking about. "I'll give you this time you ask for, but I...well, I can't guarantee that I can ensure your safety while you slumber."

My words were met only with a blank expression, so I continued on,

"As time passes, your insides will become better, but that outside part I'm not so sure of. I have other things to attend to, people to see, errands to run. So whatever happens, happens. Fix it all, but run the risk of husking your shell or chipping away at it. It's your choice."