KristineSa's Xanga

Torn

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:59:05 GMT

Sunday afternoon coffee
Ensues polar opposite urges
Share all details of a completed path
Or remain quietly courteous

And I'm left torn

The ugly truths were masked
To beautify what's best
And prices paid were mine
To settle or contest

And I'm left torn

Sunday afternoon gloom
Tells me to sound the horns
But I take on what I can
Keeping silent though scorned

And still left torn

- KS

"Nobody"

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 20:16:21 GMT

I've been blessed with praise, but the price that I pay--
Nobody knows. Nobody sees. Nobody cares.
You walked me home at the end of the day. But you didn't stay.
Where you had to go, you needed to be, and I wasn't there.

How could possibly think I'd wait.
While you decided your fate.

Keep all your words that sounded like home
I'll cry myself to sleep alone
Nobody needs to know
Take all this hurt out of my home
I'd rather die here than let it all show
Nobody needs to know

I showed you all, the strong and the weak-- the pieces of me
were yours to keep. And when time came to leap, I watched you leave.
I couldn't set you free, couldn't let you fly. You were never mine.
And when you left, I broke down and wept, along on my knees.
I prayed that you'd never come back again.
God give me a chance to mend.

Keep all your words that sounded like home
I'll cry myself to sleep alone
Nobody needs to know
Take all this hurt out of my home
I'd rather die here than let it all show
Nobody needs to know

I let you in. Show you my cards...
You broke my heart.

- Kristine Sa

Dear readers,
Above are the lyrics to "Nobody" which I wrote a few months ago. These lyrics were originally part of a journey entry. It means to the world to me to be able to release a song without an agenda. I wrote this in one night. Passed it over to my friend, musician Tony T. Nguyen for his take on the arrangement. When the music came back to me, this demo version was recorded and mixed in one night. I had thought about going back and tweaking the vocals, the mix, etc. But I didn't. This little video was filmed in a one day on location in Malibu, CA. And was edited in one memorizing, lonely night. I meant to do the whole thing only to be shared online for free with you. And it feels wonderful to be able to do so. I thank you for being connected. I thank God for the creative outlets. And I thank the following people for lending a helping hand in this little song and video: chi Tam Doan, anh Tien Dung, Tony T. Nguyen, Johnny "JP" Phan, anh Matt Dung Nguyen, & Andy La. Last but not least, may I dedicate this song to anyone who's ever felt alone, in sharing this song with you, I am less lonely and I thank you for that.

Connectors

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 19:51:52 GMT

If you and I are listening to the same song at the same time, does that connect us in some way? Ever catch yourself staring out at the street and wonder if someone on the other side of the street is gazing at the same thing? What if they are watching you, watching these cars zipping by? Does that connect you? Wish I understood how this whole thing works. Sometimes I see far too much and I just don't know what to do with it all. I see too many patterns. Too many connectors. I see too much and I'm afraid it'll just drive me mad one day.

Come January

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 20:08:39 GMT

You can find me where the snows falls
If you're looking at all
That's where I'll be
Where the winds will wrap me
In their cold hands
Where I will stand
Perfectly still
Until...

- KS

At the end of this road...

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 03:06:18 GMT

I took this road with some very specific intentions. Somewhere along the way I got to my destination and hadn't even noticed. Got caught up in the drive. Had the windows down, listened to music too loudly... Whatever the cause, here I am, driving in circles and I finally realized-- This road will not lead me anywhere new. I've exhausted this drive. It took me a few gloomy mornings and a few more sleepless nights but it very recently became crystal clear. I need a break. I need to pull over, refuel, and head back out. Onto another road. It's time.

At the end of this road I see so many goodbyes unknown to the receiver. I see promises of reuniting that silently hold no merit. I see the fog of the unknown. I am equally scared and excited. And Patty Griffin sings, "There's no mercy in the live wire. No rest at all in freedom. Of the choices we are given-- there's no choice at all. The proof is in the fire you touch before it moves away. But you must always know how long to stay. And when to go." Over and over when there are goodbyes, I turn to this song. I suppose that's exactly what awaits me at the end of this road: The prettiest departure song I've ever heard.

In passing

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 22:30:41 GMT

And suddenly I realize... A lot of my days will be just like this. It's not so bad. Of course, I wonder if I've ever been the type of accept the 'not so bad' life. Am I allowed to enjoy this? Am I supposed to?

Where have my peers gone? Where are my colleagues, my partners? My once competition. Have I been unaware of the race I'm running all this time? It felt like only yesterday that I had breakfasts like these almost every morning. I used to have coffee with a group of people, fighting the same fight. We used to share our success and our loss. We used to share everything. We used to argue. Disagree. Celebrate. Procrastinate. Just yesterday I was reminded of how much I missed that. 4 strangers (practically) sat at a Denny's booth and ordered breakfast. I don't think any one of us realized what would be served. I surely miss the enthusiasm that once fueled us through those crazy New York streets. A much different type of fuel keeps me alive and moving these days. I suppose years from now I'll be able to look back and tell you exactly what this was like. As for now, I can't quite see from the eye of the hurricane.

Just a spare thought... in passing.

Pace yourself

Tue, 06 Oct 2009 06:23:22 GMT

Took a good look in the mirror just now and thought, ok you... pace yourself. It's about that time again. The seasons are changing. I tasted the deep scent of autumn earlier today. It's been days, turned to weeks, turned to months. I need to shed away these layers of skin that keep me trapped. Get off this street. Literally. There is always a small voice in my head that fights the urge to jump. Over and over it reminds me to grow up. Learn to commit. Settle in. Settle down. Make choices and stick to them. Finish what I start. However, is it possible that my standards of completion are simply different? This voice that talks to me has been generated by so many years of sociological influence. I have been taught to tell this to myself-- yell this to myself. It is my natural instinct right now to abandon these pages because I already feel complete. As if there are no more pages to turn on this chapter. This would be the end of the road, if I want to keep driving, I'll have to make a U-turn. And do what? Drive back? How does that accomplish anything? The fear of starting over emerges. The terrifying thought of being alone attempts to drown me once again. The gasping persists, followed by very forced attempts to breathe in-- then out... And repeat. This shit is not easy.

Beyond my selfish banter on this blog...

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 22:14:18 GMT

Hi all, I received this email from my friend Leyna Nguyen (can't say her name without mentioning the Emmy award winning thing, I suppose) and I felt the least I could do was share it with you. I know you wander onto here often to read the selfish banter of an emotionally charged extremist from day to day. However, for today there is none of that. Please read the letter below and if you want to skip forward, just scroll down and read the synopsis. The point is: Can you spare $6 to help aid in the most recent Typhoon hit in Asia? Just 6 dollars. Consider it as buying me an expensive Latte for our coffee date. This means I'll need to take you out for some coffee again later. I will hold up my end.

Letter from Leyna:

I would not be sending this message if it wasn't desperately important. My mom was in Vietnam doing charity work when she was caught in the Ketsana Typhoon. She's ok. Scared, but safe. In fact, she's turned her house there into a shelter because it's the only one the village that wasn't underwater.
People have gone days without eating because the markets flooded even before the eye of the storm came in. Floodwaters have killed most of the animals except for some cows and water buffalo. My mom says she'll never forget the sight and sound of calves struggling to keep their noses up out of the water.
The local government two days ago gave each family 5 packages of instant noodles, and you would have thought they won the lottery. I, through my non profit Love Across The Ocean, am organizing food distribution. Each box of instant noodles costs $3 USD. That's 30 packages. We'd like to give each family one box, two if we have enough.
I know times are tough now, and we can't give like we used to. But I'm asking you to give $6. That's 2 boxes of noodles that will sustain a family for the next week or so. Please give more if you can, but I think we can all spare $6.
Log on to http://www.loveacrosstheocean.org and click on donate. Please, please consider helping. It truly is a matter of life and death, and I need your help.

A Synopsis
For anyone that for whatever reason cannot read this whole entry: http://www.loveacrosstheocean.org, click on 'donate' and make it an amount of at least $6. You are now apart of the relief army for those that have been hit by The Ketsana Typhoon.

The Will To Go On

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 20:04:31 GMT

Somewhere in The Last Place I'll Look is a little box labeled "The Will To Go On." I am quite in need of that box right now. It seems I've misplaced it. I looked in my kitchen of Hope. No box. I've looked under the table of Dreams and Aspirations. No box. I tried in the garage of Imagination. Not there either. Usually, I keep it right next to my Blueprint of the Future and above the Plans with my Soulmate. Maybe I moved it the other day when I was cleaning out my Doubts and Insecurities. I must have put it somewhere while I was cleaning and forgot to return it. Now-- today, it's nowhere to be found. It's not even in my Faith in God closet. Tell me again why I'm doing all this?

Fragility

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 03:13:32 GMT

I am fragile. I break like anyone else. And tonight I'm wondering why 'anyone else' can't seem to understand that much for me. If there is ever a question about it, let me just clear it up now: Yes, I break. I am insecure. I am scared. I question myself, just as the next person. I get tired and cranky. I shut down when I'm overworked. Of course, as they say, when you choose this path, you must accept the thorns that come with it. The fragility in me is having a really hard time accepting it tonight. I will not explain... anymore.