but reality pressed against my mind
“anything can happen.”
and thin plastic playing cards
weren’t meant to withstand the gust of wind
or the threat of disturbance by others

i built this house of cards with you
faith stacked on top of fate
with trust touching at the edges
trust that the cards won’t freefall
and time… represented by the height
and majesty of what we’ve created

was it wrong of me to be optimistic
and think that failure would never occur?

maybe
it
was
because–
took too long to think
tricks of the eye distract
and the house fell

and whether it be a king, queen, jack or numbered card
that fell to the ground first
it didn’t matter anyways, it never mattered at all

when the cards fluttered to the ground
along went the hope that accompanied them

but i built this house of cards with you
and have come to realize
the foundation never mattered to me
as it didn’t to you too

because even if the world crashed around you and i
we’d still stand together, never letting friendship slip by.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

deciding to rethink things
you backtrack on your life
the events that happened
and then you wonder

should i just float away from here?

]]> http://www.bamboozled.org/2010/12/blossom/feed/ 0 http://www.bamboozled.org/2010/10/caffeinated/ http://www.bamboozled.org/2010/10/caffeinated/#comments Thu, 21 Oct 2010 20:58:13 +0000 destiny http://www.bamboozled.org/?p=2151 I love coffee. With only a few hours of sleep a night due to the heavy workload of a high school senior, I rely on the caffeinated drink to get me through the day. For three whole years I was a fan of Starbucks. With multiple Starbucks conveniently located within a  two block radii of each other, I could not go wrong stopping and sampling the easy to find beans of this corporate company. However, as I grew more taste buds, I realized that Starbucks could have more to offer.

That was when I decided to finally try Peets, economically speaking, as my substitute to the previously acknowledged shop. My expectations were high as many people told me Peets was a better choice. But based on a few key criteria I set up for my coffee drinks, I realized that, for me, Peets was better.

Temperature
Maybe this is just me, but every Starbucks I go to has scalding hot coffee that burns my tongue on first taste and I roam throughout my day unable to taste the joys of breakfast, lunch and dinner which makes me slightly sad. Peets on the other hand is at perfect temperature– warm enough to sip upon arrival and still walk outside in the freezing cold temperatures of foggy San Francisco on my way to the nearest 17, M or K stop.

Taste
WHAT THE…? Dear Starbucks, if I wanted a lot of sugar in my coffee I’d put it there myself. But with a million shots of syrup I finally realized I was never bright eyed and bushy tailed because of caffeine- I was on an amazing sugar high (maybe that’s why I crashed at the end of the day…hm). Honestly it doesn’t even taste like real coffee with it’s overly sugary sweet after taste that sticks to my tongue.

Although comparably speaking, I do prefer a nice wintry and sweet Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha from Starbucks. I’ll forgive them for the sugar in that. But just for regular coffee to wake myself up in the morning? Forget about it. Peets, you have my heart.

Customer Service
(For this part of the criteria I am discussing the Peets and Starbucks on West Portal, as it is on my way to school and they’re my most frequently visited.)
I might be biased as I discuss this but I was called sir at Starbucks.
…
Peets gets an automatic point on this one (obviously).

In the end, I’ve decided I’ll rely on Peets for my morning pick me up (or make myself instant at home).

* Author’s Note: We all have our preferences, I am not attempting to bash the Starbucks lovers of the world- I respect it.

the trickster that he was
attracted to me to the being that he is
he twists around my body
with hands so sleek
and talons so sharp that they’re plunging into me
leaving perfect straight lines of crimson on me
the way he protects himself is my downfall

because of the pain
i am tricked
i am changed
the empty body and mind
i am nothing more than a chameleon companion
because of the threat of a long lost soul
i am with transformed thoughts because of his body and mind
i am the poster child of the impressionable

but though that is so, i desire to know who he is
he hides away in the shadows of his mind
darker than the crevices of my mind
because the path to them is always bleak
unwelcoming even
no one dares to walk along them

but i, leaping in the meadows as if a young rabbit would,
with those same words
quick, fast, moving away
understand him, i…

cannot
reach the same wavelength, never can i

but i stand here
with a plastic smile
and a heart touched by cold hands
you tell me that everything will be okay
and although you are determined
to prove yourself correct
i know that everything is not alright
and i am not content

i am not content as you look at what you have
and don’t want to lose
but refuse to look at what you could have
and what you could gain

In my own experiences, I have wanted to commit suicide twice. The first time was after my mother died in July of 2007. My mother meant everything to me and after she died, I felt like my life was not worth living anymore. She was the person who inspired me to follow my dreams

you’re coming closer
whispers of the slightly whistling wind
i hear you speak
with exaggerated confidence

you used to be so meek, so scared
hiding in every dark shaded corner to avoid
the people that struck fear in your heart
but now you stand with a cocky stance
(and i have to wonder what happen…
did you strike a deal with the devil?)

with a fixated glare at the world around you
you tower over me with a body
belonging to a quiet boy, not one
who spouts out loud his thoughts
who forces his ideas upon the public
and presses his thoughts into my mind

your intelligence never falls to death between the seasons
and i believe the words that spill
from your lips
slow yet steady yet strong

but most of all, i do not know
(because of beautiful persuasion)
whether to believe if this is an act
or if it is real.

Cobra Starship’s album encompasses the genres of dance, electro and rock. The opening track of the CD, ‘The City Is At War’ combines crunching chords with an awesome chorus that makes you want to throw your hands in the air.  ‘One Day, Robots Will Cry’ and ‘Guilty Pleasure’, are equally infectious, both featuring a funky European pop sound. ‘Guilty Pleasure’ has to be my favorite song on the album because the lyrically quirky Saporta uses lines such as “And I came here to make you dance tonight /  I don’t care about my guilty pleasure for you /  Shut up cause we won’t stop/ and we’re getting down till the sun’s coming up”, bringing the listener back to the idea of dancing.

Cobra Starship tries to utilize different styles and sounds on the record. ‘Kiss My Sass’ is loaded attitude mixed with computer game sounding effects with a R&B twist. If that’s not your cup of tea, there’s always ‘Angie’ , which moves in the disco direction or the latin and rock flavoured ‘Smile For The Paparazzi’ sprinked with heavy drums to top it off.

Although the CD provides a wide range of sound mixtures, the band tends to jump from the serene to obscene with songs such as ‘Damn You Look Good And I’m Drunk (Scandalous)’ and ‘Prostitution Is The World’s Oldest Profession (And I, Dear Madame, Am A Professional)’ , which are obviously songs you cannot play in front of your mother while at rocking out (those titles are just a serious warning against it, especially with ‘Damn You Look Good And I’m Drunk (Scandalous)’ — trust me, I know).

Overall, I appreciated  the different sounds  because they collaborate together to make an album perfect for dancing and rocking out to as well as the lyrical playfulness of Saporta. This CD opened up the Cobra Starship doors to me and I faithfully and eagerly bought all three of their CDs (with the latest, Hot Mess, only coming out this past August).  I dig the carefree sounds of all of their songs because I’m seventeen, all I want to do is feel the music and party. Cobra Starship gives me an outlet to do just that. Because of that, I’ll be sure to keep my fangs up Cobra style whenever I listen to this CD (or any of their songs for just that matter). If you like quirky bands with awesome electronic tracks combined with rock and other genres, then I assure you, Cobra Starship will keep you on your toes and forever listening to their music.

Favorite Tracks
Guilty Pleasure
Kiss My Sass
The City Is At War

I heard the echoes of all the warning voices in my head. They kept telling me what to do. They told me which path to take. They were all rational in a way and I still ignored them. All my friends, I knew they loved me and wanted what was best for me. However, I chose to ignore their warnings. I endured the pain for over two months. In addition, I neglected them and I chose love over the friendships I held close to my heart for so long. And for what? Nothing.

I woke up on that Tuesday morning. It was 10:00 a.m. and it was too early for waking on a spring break day, but later than waking up for school on a usual weekday. I lazily roamed my apartment probing the shelves for some breakfast food. I found the cereal and milk and sat at the dining room table.

My heart seemed to sink lower in my chest as time passed and I dug my spoon into my cereal, started to crunch, and then munch on my Multigrain Cheerios. I reflected on the past two months. I used to be so happy and carefree about everything. I had found someone to call my boyfriend and he tried everything to make me happy. Yet, I still was not.

During the past two months, I fell deeper into a hole I could not climb out of by myself. I never saw my boyfriend at all during that time except for four days out of two months. He went to school in San Bruno, lived in South San Francisco, and worked two days a week in San Francisco. As time went by, I realized he did not have the time to spend with me. Especially after getting into Dartmouth, the end to him and me was inevitable.

I could barely breathe after finishing my cereal. The thoughts hit me and hurt me harder than the pecking of a crow against bare skin. I started to realize that I had to end it and that my pain hurt me too much. I grew anxious and proceeded to pace around the apartment. I thought of all the advice my friends gave me. That if it was meant to be, he would come back to me even if I let him go. That we had to end it because he was going away to college and asking him to stay in California and go to University of California, Berkeley was the most selfish thing I could have done. But was it selfish to want more time with him? I did not think so. However, none of my attempts at gaining more time worked. He ignored, neglected, and evaded them. I decided that was worst than leaving him. I decided that without compromise, I could not stay with him. Was that not what relationships needed? Did they not need compromises to keep working properly?

At only seventeen years old, I did not know what relationships needed to have. My boyfriend was the first person I fell in “love” with. Even though I cared for him so much, I still had to walk away.

Somehow 6:00 p.m. came. The time passed by so quickly, I did not know what to do with myself. I stared at my T-Mobile Sidekick and automatically dialed his number without searching for it in my address book. The phone rang a couple of times and he answered it. I told him the priceless words: “We need to talk.”

It made him nervous. The kindhearted voice grew colder. He asked me to never say that phrase again because usually something bad came immediately after. I told him that it was in fact bad. I dragged in a long breath and started my story. I expressed my unhappiness about our relationship and how despite loving him, I did not know how much longer I could take it.

“Okay. So?” he responded.

The nonchalant response nearly killed me. Did he care? I immediately wondered. Did he still love me? My chest started to hurt and I felt the surge of sorrow throughout my body.

“I think it’s better if we’re just friends,” I told him in a slightly quiet voice.

“If that’s what you want.” He told me.

“Do you not care at all?” I asked him. “I don’t know what else to do.”

He was silent for a second. My question lingered still in the air. I fiddled with my fingers wishing I did not have to tell him over the phone. Wishing I could hold him in my arms and tell him that I still loved him. Without seeing his face, the words I spoke felt so impersonal. I felt like a stranger was telling him how I felt and I was watching from the outside.

“I’m extremely sad,” he told me. His voice was so small I could barely hear him. “But as of one moment ago, I’m extremely angry.”

“Angry at me?”

He outlined every single reason he was angry with me. He was mad at me because he saw a picture of me on Facebook hugging another person who was only my friend, commenting that it was romantic, and saying that I was “dreading what had to come.” He threw me into the cage of fear as he raised his voice at me.

I never expected that from him. As he yelled at me, I again felt that I was on the outside looking in. I could not believe what was happening to me. I could not comprehend why the person I fell in love with would be so angry with me all at once in heavy waves that did not cease to exist. They came rolling in faster and harder and I wanted to shrink away from them. I withstood the waves that washed over me until he hung up me, telling me to never contact him again.

In the next day, I walked around in a zombie like state. Voices entered my mind through my ears, but I was not processing them. People who spoke to me were on a completely different frequency, and I could not be bothered. Overwhelming sadness plagued me as I tried to overcome the emotions that rocked my body. I wanted to weep. I wanted to sit and curl up into a ball because regret slapped me in the face.

Would I ever know the true meaning of love if I could not even stay in a relationship with someone I really did love?

Usually in high school, no one wants to be the outcast. We all want those stylish boots in Seventeen Magazine. Those fabulous skirts you see the most popular girl in school wearing.  To be different is social suicide. And we travel great lengths to be the same among the masses of peers. But in Fly On The Wall: How One Girl Saw Everything by E. Lockhart, Gretchen Kaufman Yee cannot stand for normal. Because at Manhattan School of the Arts everyone is different. And as Gretchen so fondly puts it, she had to “capitulate to nonconformity-conformity” because the Manhattan students refuse to settle for normality. And even though she dyed her hair firecracker red to be accepted and even though she sits outside and draws bad-ass pictures of Spiderman, comic book drawing being one of her callings, Gretchen still sits on the sidelines yearning to want to understand her fellow classmates. She wants to understand the best friend who starts disappearing on her, the ex-boyfriend who wants to “stay friends” but does not really “stay friends” and the boy she was falling in love with.

The story creatively takes the plot of Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis (while Gretchen is learning it in her Literature class) and gives a modern day spin on it. However, the similarities end with Gretchen wishing she could be a fly on the wall in the boys’ locker room.

After Gretchen’s own metamorphosis into a fly, she has no power whatsoever. She glances at the freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors who come through the locker room. She sees the things that most girls are not exposed to- she observes the insecurities that the male population at Manhattan struggle day after day to hide. Day 1 she compares the size of each male ‘gherkins’, as they are called within the story and becomes surprised and flustered at her sightings.  And not long after that she listens in and witnesses bullies picking on those who are ‘abnormal’ and ‘freakish’ and desires to change the outcome of daily locker room harassment. Seeing these instances helps her to finally understand the people around her.

And when she changes back, Gretchen initiates changes that she would never have done without her sudden transformation into the small, winged insect that everyone wants to swat. Her new found confidence changes her into a person proud of herself, and that is a message every high schooler needs to hear.

The writing style of E. Lockhart breaks down the barriers of proper punctuation, intertwining the rules of prose and poetry for a flow that properly shows the thoughts of Gretchen (as herself and as a fly) and accurately displays that our thoughts do not stop with a period. They continously flow on until they end and then we break out with a new point. The non conventional style of writing makes the story an easier read (only having 182 pages helped as well). When Gretchen was herself as a human, the poetic lines and breaks made the story easier to understand because I could relate to having her scattered thoughts and just simply being all over the place. However, when she was in her fly form, it did make the story slightly harder to wrap my brain around because I already had to process the fact that she WAS a fly and combining that with improper punctuation was difficult to say the least. It took me two times to read the book and actually give the fly form part a chance because it was slightly different than her thoughts as a human. The same scattered thoughts apply to either state she is in, therefore overall, it was comprehensible and accessible text.  It was the type of story I could chuck into my purse, read it on my way to my destinations while on Muni and finish it in one day.

Although I have never read the Metamorphosis (in fact, everything I know about it is from reading Fly On The Wall), I can still say that Fly On The Wall, with its hilarious, honest present day twists and turns on the life of a teenage girl should be snatched up today at your local bookstore.