New Beginnings

Spring is nearing, and the past two quarters have been the best and worst. I need to focus. Maybe I'll take some early morning runs with my Sammy.

He LOVES to run.

Here's for a new beginning.

Rayando el Sol

I’d forgotten how the sun’s shimmering silhouette can bring me joy. It casts a scintillating shadow over my day. If only the walls of the library had little crevices so the warmth could come in, I would stay in the library indefinitely. Well, maybe just a little bit longer. Too many times, I can be a downer when I am at home, so earlier when I sat on a sunny chair at school, I didn’t want to leave. I felt like jumping, running for joy. Basking in the sun was a perfect. I felt happy. My life is what I make it, I often forget, so I should stop thinking of what could have been, but focus on what can be and what I do have. Ergh sorry didn’t meant to make this cliché/sappy but you know what I mean, right? I’ve wasted so much time regretting what I didn’t do, it makes me a little sad. Today, the sun reminded me of how beautiful life is, if we only take the time to view the beauty around us and the people that surround us.

Of course, sitting in the sun while Death Cab plays in the background is just that much better. Listening to their lyrics makes me reminisce of previous years, how I faced the struggles of life with a stern face and steady grip. Their lyrics can be somber at times, but they have an inexplicable ability brighten my day. It is a weird paradox; Death Cab does not talk about death, really, at all. Instead, they reveal to me life’s beautiful struggles. It’s like lying in the middle of a meadow cloud gazing, and noticing that the clouds race against one another. I didn’t notice that ever happened (that the clouds moved so fast). I never took the time to pause and enjoy them, until I went to study abroad. Weird. I know.

So before you go into a frenzy, take some time to lie in meadow, bask in the sun, and notice the clouds. It truly is beautiful.

Epic Fail

Why am I my biggest enemy sometimes?

Bus Stops

(⌒▽⌒)

I'm sitting here and in times of loneliness, I think I would go to bus stops. In my high school years I would ride the bus from Ontario to Montclair, to Upland, and even to Pomona. When I was feeling down, I always managed to find interesting people, who just like me, were trying to get to their next destination. The difference: they had a much more optimistic outlook on life. I always remember particular people, like the homeless man from Arizona - who was half Indian - a grandmother from my hometown, and a girl from Pomona. They're (correction. I meant 'their.'This is what happens when I write at midnight or later) names are a blur, but their faces and their words stay with me.

Sometimes, strangers can encourage me more than they will ever know. It's weird how at times they can see through you as one is simply walking along the street or waiting for a bus - albeit it doesn't happen all the time. Their words of encouragement always managed to give me hope on a gloomy day. When i used to walk home from school I would always change my route, but I was always bound to run into a friendly smile. I think I like strangers, at least most of them, mostly due to their willingness to help or give out advice or a genuine smile without wanting anything in return. Without asking for help, there are a select few who just know - you know? - that you need encouragement sometimes or just someone to listen to you. They don't contemplate whether you deserve it, whether they know you, whether their beliefs align with yours, they just offer what they have.

I think one of these days I will ride the bus again, or the metrolink, and perhaps I can offer a stranger in need what I many times received, even if it's just a friendly smile.

Chocolate Chip Mint Cookies. Is there more to say? Lent has begun, and even though I don't really consider myself a Catholic, I've decided to give up chocolate chip cookies (cookies in general too) for Lent. I do it more to see how much willpower I can muster up when I am confronted by sweets. This summer I was in pastry heaven (!), but with that a couple pounds came with me too (okay more like several).So here's to the last cookie, until April 3rd.

Siempre Corriendo

... expansion from previous post..

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I miss the crunch of leaves under the soles of my shoes, the beat of my shoes along a lonely boulevard, the sting of the wintry air lacerating my face. I felt strong. I overcame pain. I felt like a conqueror. I felt rugged. Those sultry days of summer were grueling. It was just my pain, my teammates, and me running in solidarity. They were forever encouraging. They made my experience wonderful, full of fun and laughter. When I think about those days, which there are many, nostalgia overtakes me. The pain, at times, plucked at my heartstrings:literally – sometimes the pain was dizzying. With every step I took, I developed a tougher exterior, just as a guitarist with every pluck develops calluses. I was internally stronger. Yeah, those were the days I could muster enough energy to run with Chucks for five miles straight, or run with vigor in the muddy trails of mount sac (in the rain).

Whew! Now I am winded walking up a flight of library stairs, not to mention running a mile(!) I remember those times when my best friend and me would ditch Saturday running practice, only to take fourteen-mile bike rides along Ontario’s streets. I remember racing with our heads facing the sun, and our backs to civilization, or so it seemed. We would end up in the remotest parts of Ontario, reaching the cow farms – a time when they still were present, now long gone – and simply basking in the rays of the sun and the unmistakable scent of cows. Okay, maybe the smell of cows wasn’t as glorious, but it made us feel alive and somehow happy. To end our ride, we would pluck oranges from trees we found along the way of which there were plenty. They were one of the best rewards after taking on endless miles of dirt, concrete, and grass.

She just called me recently to plan another one of those infamous bike rides. I am ecstatic to say the least, hoping that I can somehow peddle fourteen miles without completely dying. Still, I somehow wish the cows would be waiting for us, stench, oranges and all.

Once

I've attempted starting a blog once before, but I never quite made it public. The blog felt more like a personal journal - too personal perhaps. So this time around I will cut back on my private experiences and include more made up stories.

What better way to relive stress than to write, especially when my free time is nonexistent for the next couple of weeks. Being inside all the time really chips away at my heart.

Oh those careless years in high school! I would walk three miles from home to school and run another five plus miles after-school. I especially miss having the ability to complete long runs on a winter afternoon. The wintry air touching my face, the lovely clouds making a face, those crunchy leaves making a song. It was truly peace and happiness. The smells, the sights, the people, everything made my outlook on life brighter, even those strangers I would never come see again in my life. For now, I will have to satisfy that ache with a walk along Campus Drive or a simple trail inside Cal Poly.