Lost of Touch

I need to change..something.

I'm experiencing a withdrawal.

A withdrawal from when I close down

The screen. I feel lonely at first,

Separated from the world.

People have become

Compliant

With satisfying friendships

Through social media features.

However, that satisfaction

is fleeting

and not sustainable.

A personal touch

Like a gift

has now faded. We thrive

In a society where we are programmed

Into a culture that wants

a simple, easy-going lifestyle.

Rather than writing a letter

to a dear friend,

a simple Facebook post

Will suffice.

But the message

Feels empty through a screen,

Lost of touch.

Plug Off the Noise

The question for the day: Why do we indulge in distractions (i.e. social media like Facebook, Twitter) rather than facing real problems face on? I see myself and others watch people go live out there lives and do amazing things while the rest of us read about it from a Facebook status update or tweet. In other words, why are we living half-asleep? Why do we fear the uncertainty of the future and the possibility that we ourselves are capable of changing the world---for the better?

Let's take a step back. How does one arrive at a state to where s/he may meditate and reflect without letting the noise of the world disrupt one's train of thought? We are accustomed to a lifestyle where an answer to a question is easily and quickly accessed by a simple Google search. In other words, modern technology has pretty much spoiled us. Distractions are everywhere, and we feel a small withdrawal (sadly) when any social media device is not within close reach. Our society's culture has become so revolved around lightning speed communication through text, email, Messenger, tweets, and push-notifications, that constant use of technology has become a perceived norm of everyday life. In result of that, our lives become stuck to eyeing the screens, decreasing direct attention to ourselves and those we care about. Lessening use of devices and investing time into meaningful and beautiful experiences, even as simple as riding a bike, will increase satisfaction of life. 

Smile, Cry, and Laugh With Me

You're standing right in front of me. Yet you seem so far away. Every time you look at me, I feel my heart beat louder. 

Gravity pulls me towards your direction. I try to fight against it but resistance is futile for I already surrendered to you when I first met you. 

Do you see the intensity in my eyes? Why are you so kind to me when I push you away? You call my name all the time, yet I sound silent because I fear that I may appear to be weak and a hopeless fool. I am tempted to just call you so that I can only hear your voice. I want to dash to where you are now. I want to forget the world around me but I can't because you are my world. 

I am at a loss of words. You are amazing. You make me feel that I am worth something. You make me feel that this life is worth living. You make me feel alive. 

I am a fool for you. Go ahead. Laugh at me and just smile like the way you do. 

I am at a loss of words. I hear words from left and right all telling me to push you away and let you carry on. 

I guess some things are meant to happen, but not meant to be. I do not regret meeting you for you make me feel like the most happiest person in the world. 

I should be realistic and be honest with myself. Yet, the heart always hopes, huh?

Maybe one day our lives will join forces and our lifestyles will become in sync with each other's world. Until that day comes, I will just carry on, admiring you from afar. 

I adore you. 

What Are You? - Identity, Race, Cultural Sensitivity

I
Am
Me.

What are you?
I am Me.
I am a song.
I am a drum.
I am a firework.
I am Me.

I
Am
Filipino American.

What are you?
I am Filipino American.
I am not a FOB.
I am not your railroad worker.
I am not a nurse.
I am a singer.
I am a person.
I am Filipino American.

I
Am
Me.

What are you?
I am Me. The Me that tells the brutal truth even when it pains the ears.
I am a song. A song that challenges the mind to set aside half-truths and to acknowledge the reality.
I am a drum. A drum that beats with the hearts of those who live in the deepest pits of humanity and still smile.
I am a firework. A firework that skyrockets to the sky, ruptures into colorful lights, and reignites hope in a hopeless home.
I am Me. The Me who sits on the same table with the world's worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams.

I
Am
Filipino
American.

What are you?
I am Filipino American. A Filipino American---an identity that I wear every day. An identity where I feel I can not call myself Filipino nor American. An identity that I learn to become every day. An identity that I struggle with grasping. An identity that I embrace. An identity that makes me think. An identity that is crucial to my existence.
I am not a FOB. Not a FOB---a term that stands for "fresh off the boat." The term carries a weight of despair, of struggle, of sacrifice, of heartbreak, of pain, of discrimination, of survival.
I am not your railroad worker. Not your railroad worker---our families came to this country because they believed in a country of liberty, freedom, and opportunity. Yet, they were given false hopes. They tasted the dirt of the roads. They sweated and dehydrated. Yet, they stood strong. They lived and still brought their families someday.
I am not a nurse. Not a nurse---being a nurse is no easy job. One person told me that Filipinos were only kindhearted and compassionate because the majority of us are nurses, which is an occupation where people are often cared for. Yes, nursing certainly is an excellent field for kindheartedness and compassion to enfold. However, these traits are a natural part of us. Of anyone.
I am a singer. A singer---I speak for those who can not voice their opinion and express their hearts to their loved ones.
I am a person. A person---The worth of souls is great. We all exist for a reason. We all have a purpose. We all should be entitled to the right to live and to be.
I am Filipino American. A Filipino American---I do not speak Tagalog fluently. I did not grow up in the Philippines. I was raised in Houston, Texas. Yet, I feel torn between two worlds. Despite having took Asian American classes and raising cultural awareness amongst the Asian American community in college, I still feel that I stand in the middle between two worlds where I am not accepted into either sides. I stand alone, fighting to break free of the confinements of the middle ground.

I
Am
Me.

I am a fighter.
I am a friend.
I am a daughter.
I am an aunt.
I am a niece.
I am a teacher.

I am Me.