dewdrops

Delicate crystals and pearls rolling along a fresh blade of grass in the misty morning...

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...
"Dew-drops are the gems of morning, But the tears of mournful eve!" -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

These droplets convey beauty. Simplicity. Elegance. Fresh starts and a clear mind. Serenity, and inner joy. Tears and sadness. Thousands of nuances. However, one thing can be agreed upon: dewdrops are always beautiful.

And now, loves, the namesake of my humble blog!

praise thee, phone camera

thoughts and rants #4: ILY

I love you.
Love ya.
ILY.
ilu.

Some people may say that there is no difference between any of these. After all, they are all nothing but alterations of the poignant three-word phrase, "I love you." However, I feel as if although they do seem like they have exactly the same meaning, the full form seems to strike deeper in one's heart and hold more significance.
I'm sure that many people, like me, have experienced that sensation of the sentence's strength straining against mental dams that keep its utterance lodged in the back of your throat. Split seconds of a dry swallow later, the phrase is forced back down again and instead replaced by a strangled, meeker version.

So, what is "love?"
As a toddler and elementary school student, I was repulsed by the word and would melodramatically gag if it were to ever reach my ears. "Love" evoked mushy scenes of Disney couples kissing and fairy tales where the prince would always have to be the saviour. Splashy scenes in the evening as couples met on sidewalks to share a passionate moment. Sequences that my childish mind could not bear.
I guess that at this time, love meant something that made everyone act harebrained. Love was a dreamland that disconnected people from the real world. A sweet, twisted, rose-coloured nightmare. Searching the deepest depths of my soul in hindsight, I think that maybe, I saw love as a monster that took the attention away from me, a cute little girl, the supposed apple of everyone's eye.
However, here was a nebulous thought in my head that whispered that love could also mean love towards friends and family, but I often ignored that notion.

This definition was still almost the same even as I ran to school, proud of the fact that I was already a sixth-grader, though now I knew that there were two types of love -- couples' love, and friend or family love. The fear of using the phrase was still deeply rooted in my mind, and I still felt squeamish about seeing what would be classified as "normal" acts of affection in public.

Although two years does not seem like much time, it has been enough time for my views of love to change drastically. Last year, in seventh grade, I am sad to say that I succumbed to a crush. I wouldn't say that I was depressed, but it was quite a dark time to go through. It was not only because of a trivial infatuation, but also of events happening around me that I could not do anything about. To keep it short, I'll just say that I felt as if I was drowning in the world around me, and that I was inferior to everyone else. Mask upon mask of happiness and shackle upon shackle of anxiety obstructed my view and bound me from the freedom I deserved. To escape my own issues, I began to aid everyone around me. It was around this time that I restarted dewdrops. I believed that in order to truly be good enough, I would have to gain the approval of others around me. I thirsted for attention and, I guess, love. Finally, in the middle of this schoolyear, I began to seek other ways of seeing the world. I found joy and love everywhere, and I could finally see that my friends and family all LOVED and supported me. I needed no significant other, for that was only one type of love. Sure, it would be nice, but I knew that middle school relationships were usually superficial and, more often than not, unable to last. Through that tumultuous year, I found that I was here to help everyone and spread my views instead of staying shut in my shell.

Now, I see love as a deeper emotional bond for true friends, family, and, occasionally, a significant other. It is not when one's own happiness depends on another's wellbeing, but instead when the mutual respect, admiration, and support for each other builds upon the joy of both. When one is feeling down, the other, by giving love, can restore the person's faith in his or herself and pull through whatever may be the problem. It is when one helps without expecting anything in return because it is known that the favor will be returned in some way. Frankly, these words do not do the meaning of love any justice at all. However, I have attempted to describe it to the best of my ability.

Today, I am able to confidently say "I love you" to... loved ones (obviously), and since I know the feeling is true from at least my side, I can say it without stuttering. This does bring up the issue of thus lessening the prominence of this sentiment through overuse, but maybe that's for another time... <3

Some of you may be thinking, then what about unrequited love? True unrequited love? Or infatuation? The line, I think, is blurred. Here, it is when you place their happiness before your own. If something happens that makes them happy, you also feel content, not because it may have turned out the way that you wanted it to have, but because they themselves are satisfied. Sometimes, however, I feel as if it is simply the need for another's attention, or the need for someone to see you as you see them.

One thing, though -- I love you all :) Thank you for supporting me.

What do you think of love? Remember that these are my thoughts, and everyone's view of love is different. There is no right or wrong... it's all a matter of perception. :)

a kiss on the nose

My mother kissed me on the nose, and I scrubbed it off viciously.
No, I didn't throw it away, I smeared the love across my cheeks as war paint in the battle of life :)

snippets

A little something new in terms of content coming to my blog!
I find that my brain oftentimes gives me a beautiful phrase that I might be able to use in my writing...
if only I had a piece where I could fit it in!
These will be coming to you in the form of snippets.
Feel free to use them if you would like, but if you would like to publish a work with it inside, I would love a little credit for my work where it is due :)

Thank you loves!

shades // year I

Behind the sleek glass doors of a towering skyscraper in the center of Chicago, Whytte and Blanc sat in two plush, chairs of snow. The light aqua tint of the glass panes and door were the only hues other than white present in the room. Only type A directors were allowed on this level. Type B and C could only stay in the lower half of the building. Any lower than C could not even step foot here. Already, the black gradient of the other levels tainted the elevator and common rooms. The pristine, monochrome world of the tower was the most prestigious association in all of society. No, reds, oranges, blues, yellows, no other colors could be in here... only types A to C, white to black, were allowed.

"We need to recruit a Type A for this commercial... No one likes type B or C actresses anymore."
"Are you kidding?" Whytte retorted, "Slate is the actress with the highest popular demand right now! Why can't we --"
"Because she's a B type. I'm telling you, no one will like the commercial if there's a filthy grey!" Blanc spat out the last word as if it were bitter poison.
"What? You told me that you didn't want to recruit any of them because it wouldn't fit the color scheme!"
"Well, that's not much better, is it?" Blanc shot a look at Whytte and took his glasses off, proceeding to resignedly clean the lenses with a white silk handkerchief. "Look, I know that you're a new employee here, but none of the companies like B and C anymore. They only want the shining diamonds -- the pure, white class of type A. And frankly, I feel the same way."
"There's nothing wrong with Slate or any greys or blacks, now is there? They're just born one color or another."
"There is something wrong. Their colors are wrong. Tainted. No one wants them. They're outcasts."

Whytte couldn't find a way to argue against this false logic so that his superior would listen, so he sighed and went back to flipping through possible candidates. Blanc was looking at him, he could tell, even though it seemed as if he were too busy with his flying fingers on the clacking keys of his computer. Every time a B or C model came up for review, there would be a strange, hair-raising bitterness that washed through the room, its waves flooding over his shoulder from where his employer sat, subtly scowling.

They're all better than Type A actresses, yet they still find themselves blocked by their rank, Whytte breathed to himself. He walked out of the room, unable to bear the starchy stiffness of the unflappable institutional atmosphere.

H E L L O

It's been too long! Hello loves, I'm back from a China/Taiwan excursion! Yes, they are two different places -- don't worry, I know :)

I've been pestering myself to post more, but for some reason, I always run out of time... Maybe I procrastinate too much...

BUT, as I always say, no excuses! Feel free to comment if I haven't been posting enough, and I'll make sure to get back to work ;-;

one fresh post coming soon <3