Wow. I can't believe it's finally here! Finals are finally over...well, first year of med school to be exact...and now I'm sitting on my favorite couch at home in Vegas while ribs and shrimp skewers are being cooked on the grill:) I love summers in Vegas. It's super hot but it's always a great time. Gosh, what a sigh of relief. Well, we have not received our final grades yet but at least finals are over and now it's just a waiting game for our grades. I hope it works out...
Until then, I will be hanging out at home, catching up with Bones and Greys Anatomy, watching new movies, and maybe do some shopping for my summer trip to the beautiful islands of Samoa. I can't wait to go back home this summer! I'll be really busy with the survey I'm going to administer but I'll be catching up with old friends and people I haven't seend in about 7 years. Crazy how fast time flies!
But back to medical school, this year has been amazing and crazy and fulfilling and more than what I imagined med school to be. I learned an astronomical amount this year! A year ago, I would not have believed it was possible to learn this much, but the brain is an amazing organ and proved me wrong. I'm really scared on what second year will bring to my plate because I hear horror stories on how much MORE information there will be and how harder it's going to be, but I'm looking forward to another crazy year....well, not just yet. I want a nice long 13 weeks all to myself without medical school on the brain. I want to just chill and hang out with family and friends having bbq's and going to the beach and reading books other than text books. What a fabulous summer it will be...
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
An ode to my mentor
The smell, so strong at first, it strikes me.
And cold air, its purpose known, shakes me.
My first sight of you terrifies me.
The death of you disturbs me.
Your intricate layers, folded away, intrigues me.
God's purposeful map laid out baffles me.
The temple of your soul instructs me.
With each deep cut in you, it stabs me.
Knowing a person once lived here scares me.
A reminder of your generous giving comforts me.
And now knowing your true story inspires me.
(Written after taking Anatomy my first semester.)
And cold air, its purpose known, shakes me.
My first sight of you terrifies me.
The death of you disturbs me.
Your intricate layers, folded away, intrigues me.
God's purposeful map laid out baffles me.
The temple of your soul instructs me.
With each deep cut in you, it stabs me.
Knowing a person once lived here scares me.
A reminder of your generous giving comforts me.
And now knowing your true story inspires me.
(Written after taking Anatomy my first semester.)
Drunk lullaby
Come tip a few with me
Transcend your world into mine.
With but a few gulps you could be on bended knee
And sway this way and that unable to stay in line.
Come drown a few sorrows with laughter.
We are all friends or will become better friends.
With maybe purer liquid we'll falter
Just keep in mind we must always deter our ends.
It is that task of freedom.
The lack of fear that runs through our veins.
We are inebriated some.
But it is a culture we refuse to give up reins.
Come live a night with me.
You shall forget your wills, your deeds, your lives.
And with your lost souls you can see
A slower projection on how my world thrives.
Transcend your world into mine.
With but a few gulps you could be on bended knee
And sway this way and that unable to stay in line.
Come drown a few sorrows with laughter.
We are all friends or will become better friends.
With maybe purer liquid we'll falter
Just keep in mind we must always deter our ends.
It is that task of freedom.
The lack of fear that runs through our veins.
We are inebriated some.
But it is a culture we refuse to give up reins.
Come live a night with me.
You shall forget your wills, your deeds, your lives.
And with your lost souls you can see
A slower projection on how my world thrives.
Words of steal
The words, they rumble.
My thoughts speak in written form.
Slanted but an odd beautiful form.
Softly hearing the scratches when ink meets its foe.
For it takes its breath away;
Each stroke steals and evacuates the very fiber of its life
And splatters it across white color.
Illuminating..enlightening..instructing.
A comforting thought for the instrument,
Comes in knowing the potential permanence it may provide.
In understanding what others will read
May inspire and may create heart.
A heart just enough to realize that what was stolen was a purpose.
A purposeful life worth losing
For the greater good of the masses.
To learn, to get inspired, and to acknowledge..
..the heart is in the reading.
My thoughts speak in written form.
Slanted but an odd beautiful form.
Softly hearing the scratches when ink meets its foe.
For it takes its breath away;
Each stroke steals and evacuates the very fiber of its life
And splatters it across white color.
Illuminating..enlightening..instructing.
A comforting thought for the instrument,
Comes in knowing the potential permanence it may provide.
In understanding what others will read
May inspire and may create heart.
A heart just enough to realize that what was stolen was a purpose.
A purposeful life worth losing
For the greater good of the masses.
To learn, to get inspired, and to acknowledge..
..the heart is in the reading.
A dark turn
Were you there with me driving through dark lanes?
Lined with ghosts of trees waving at me.
Silently you sat there in thoughts like blurred vision through rain,
You going in and out of consciousness and me wondering whats real.
No light up ahead.
None in my rear view.
My fingers grip so tightly,
My heart pounds, my head prays softly.
For safety from whats unknown.
Who's out there, who knows..
The beam of lights on my sides illuminate the periphery.
But the sound of enveloped silence overwhelms and swallows me all into its darkness.
If I scream, will anyone hear?
Lost voices probably have wondered the same.
What is salvation at life's last breath?
You would never have thought this on a busier road somewhere familiar...is my guess..
Lined with ghosts of trees waving at me.
Silently you sat there in thoughts like blurred vision through rain,
You going in and out of consciousness and me wondering whats real.
No light up ahead.
None in my rear view.
My fingers grip so tightly,
My heart pounds, my head prays softly.
For safety from whats unknown.
Who's out there, who knows..
The beam of lights on my sides illuminate the periphery.
But the sound of enveloped silence overwhelms and swallows me all into its darkness.
If I scream, will anyone hear?
Lost voices probably have wondered the same.
What is salvation at life's last breath?
You would never have thought this on a busier road somewhere familiar...is my guess..
White picket fences
She sits there and stares at the flowers
Many colors combined to shine a reflection of higher powers.
What can she do? She cannot question this fate.
The color is there. Who would not believe this natural trait?
Where does the mind begin to inquire?
Is there no end to this madness?
A continuous labyrinth of opened endings that require first the mind, then the body, then a complete wholeness.
Those flowers, they eventually ease her mind.
The thoughts run slower giving up to something faster.
She cannot compete and outlast this continuous grind.
She is but one thought, a mind temporarily plastered.
She sits and with easy eyes
Sees the flowers' colors emerge from hiding.
Her mind is slow but does realize
She only needed time...this time the world and its rules abiding.
Many colors combined to shine a reflection of higher powers.
What can she do? She cannot question this fate.
The color is there. Who would not believe this natural trait?
Where does the mind begin to inquire?
Is there no end to this madness?
A continuous labyrinth of opened endings that require first the mind, then the body, then a complete wholeness.
Those flowers, they eventually ease her mind.
The thoughts run slower giving up to something faster.
She cannot compete and outlast this continuous grind.
She is but one thought, a mind temporarily plastered.
She sits and with easy eyes
Sees the flowers' colors emerge from hiding.
Her mind is slow but does realize
She only needed time...this time the world and its rules abiding.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Words in a bottle
I'm thinking right now..Do words really matter? Do they really carry as much weight as we suppose they do? I know that actions speak louder than words and words can, at times, be strong enough to cause damage. But how strong can they be when you throw out good advice and people do not listen? What happens when you show love through words and nothing comes from it? I pose this question because I am quite disappointed with some news I just received. I am not a parent and won't be one for quite some time but I'm just baffled at how difficult it would be to rear a child. Just through my own experience growing up, I understand that most parents try and steer their children in the "right" direction. You know...the get-your-education-steer-away-from-drugs-and-jail pathway that is pretty generic. For girls you can probably throw in -not-become-pregnant as well. But how do you control your kids from going down the wrong path? How do you try to be there for them financially and lovingly when you're not there 24 hours a day to watch their every move just in case the minute you turn around, they decide to steal something and get handcuffed and taken to jail? How? I really do not know. Some say you gotta show them you love them and that you care for them. Well, what if you do and your kid still decides to one up you and make stupid decisions? You can try all you want to "talk to your kids about drugs". They still just might get hammered and get into the driver's seat and drive their car into a wall. You can always give sound advice with heavy words but the recipient must be able to receive those words. I guess you can't control any of this. People make their own decisions and as a parent, you also have to live with those decisions if there are grave consequences. I'm scared to death to have my own children because I'm afraid of the type of person I would become.
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