Real

眺める空の下　それぞれの毎日が巡る
輝く星の下　それぞれの思いが街を照らしている
僕は退屈なのに　泣けてくるんだ
気がついてないね　僕がいつも思うこと

聞こえているよ　届いているよ
僕の中の世界で
強がりだけど 素直になれず
いつも空回りする
でも大事なのは
「今　側にいる　君のReal」

行き交う人々が　目の前を通り過ぎてく
ざわめく風の音が　聴き覚えのある声を　僕に運ぶ
こんな毎日なのに　ただ詰めないんだ
気がついてないね　僕が君を思うこと......

分からないこと　聞いてみること
言葉にすると何故か
進みたいのに 進みたいのに
いつも空回りする
でも　答えは　ただ
「今　側にいる　君がReal」

聞こえてくるよ　届いてくるよ
僕の中の世界へ
会いたいことも　会えないことも
心には抱えてる
でも　大事なのは
「今　側にいる　君のReal」

でも　大事なのは
「今　側にいる　君のReal」

The Last Word

The anatomy of elegance

While looking for images for a cultural activity in August, I found a LOT of links on modest fashion. Even Google's autocomplete on my search was "modest fashion". To me it means only one thing: that there are people out there who are looking for ways to be updated and trendy without baring all.

I don't know much about fashion--in fact most days I vacillate between "frumpy" and "ridiculous"--and I don't exactly have the body type that comes to mind when discussing the anatomy of elegance. But I think that even if I were as skinny and beautiful as Audrey Hepburn, I still wouldn't want to walk around in the extremely short shorts that are so common in the La Salle area. I know that my friends think that I would dress in a nun's habit if I could, but it isn't about covering yourself up. I think it's about being considerate so that you don't distract the man (or woman) on the street. People are inevitably drawn to the sight of a bare leg or an exposed chest. If you don't want to attract that attention, then don't. (I certainly don't want to.) If you do want to attract that kind of attention, then maybe you should be thinking about why those are the things you want people to notice about you.

There are probably better ways of explaining why I love modesty so much, and I might think of a better paragraph than this sooner or later, but right now I just want to give some helpful links to anyone who might be dropping by. It's so hard to find clothes that are elegant but still keep that high standard. (Personally I love the tops from Marks and Spencer, which you can pair with simple skirts and well-cut chinos and trousers, and the dresses and skirts from Dorothy Perkins. But then again, I really have never been all that trendy, so the links below will probably be of more help.)

- ELIZA - a very pretty-looking magazine with an online blog
- Momomod.com
- Just Like Molly - which has some really exquisite photos
- Modest Fashion and Style on livejournal - which has some helpful shopping suggestions and discussions

Here are two draft posters that I'm still tweaking for our activity. (The image on the left is from justlikemolly.com; it isn't being used for profit.)

Once in a lifetime

I find myself almost unbearably affected by all this fuss about the last HP film. It shouldn't matter to me in the least, because honestly I was never able to suspend disbelief long enough to believe that Dan Radcliffe was Harry, or even that Alan Rickman was Severus Snape. (It's a little different with Emma Watson. As much as I disliked her from the very beginning, there was something about how she portrayed Hermione Granger in the two most recent films. I could almost believe that the same Hermione I've been dreaming and writing and thinking about for the last eleven years was her, in Burberry plaid, dancing with Harry in a sad tent.)

So I guess it shouldn't matter. Unfortunately it does. I've stayed away from fan communities and livejournal in an attempt to keep studying for exams and to keep my head down until all the fuss was over--which is basically the same thing I did when DH came around--but with everyone in my class discussing it and with my Facebook feed spilling over with mournful status messages and meaningful, tear-jearking pictures of the actors and of fanart, it's hard to get away from it all.

I know that this is an unrepeatable point in history. Harry Potter, despite what my theatre teacher and my Uncle Johnny used to say, is going to live on forever. It will perhaps be even bigger, on the scale of eternity, than Lord of the Rings or that most adapted, most fanficced creation, Sherlock Holmes. I know that this will never happen again. People from future generations will wonder what it was like to stand in line for the first Harry Potter movie, or the last.

And I don't really want to miss it, but at the same time I do; I get irrationally, unbearably affected when it comes to things fictional and fannish. About a month ago I spent a whole night crying miserably while my mom fussed over me, just because I kept thinking what it would mean if SNUFF came out and it's Terry Pratchett's last book, because he might die/never write one again/both. I couldn't stop crying over the last Harry Potter book, too--I hid from it for as long as I was able, read through it quickly so it would be less painful (in the old rip-off-the-band-aid stratagem), and never touched it again. I'm not ready for big emotional upheavals; I've never been good at dealing with them. I can't study and can't sleep, and eat too much, and I just can't even. I cried for two whole days about Severus Snape back in college, when I found out (through some unwelcome spoilery) that he was going to die.

And now I'm twenty two years old and I still feel the same way, if not more intensely, more tenderly.

And the thing is, what does this say about me and the culture I've been moving around in? Is it still abnormal to get so worked up about fictional things? Given this milieu, what is abnormal, what is maladjusted? Is this on the same level as that three year old on Jay Leno who was crying, without reason, about Justin Bieber?

I don't really understand. Without Severus Snape it might have just been one more children's story. But it wasn't, because he was there, a silent figure, more real than anyone I've ever read about--more beloved, more true to himself. Although, if you think about it, almost everything he did was behind the scenes--taking a backseat, it seemed to me, to balls and parties and butterbeer and all those things that were Harry. I shouldn't have fallen in love with him, but I did.

I know that half of the world can probably relate to the dark mess that is my feelings--I know that a lot of us are crying. And I know that a lot of us who have invested so much of our lives in fic and in actively participating in this fandom, in not just being passive receivers of something wonderful, are both dizzyingly happy to be a part of it, and devastated that somehow it's an end of something. Which is probably irrational because it's going to be there forever anyway.

I think this is called mourning.

In Defense of Snape

You are unrepeatable and everything that is loveable in the books--without you it would have been just one more children's story. They are named after Harry but they revolve around the consequences of one man's actions: yours. You might have loved her for thirty years or so--since you were a child--but you were the focal point of my life for the last ten, and I'll love you forever. My greatest wish was always to give you a happy ending. It will never be goodbye.

Nine

In the same twenty-four hours:
You and I, flying over rooftops and trees
Landing on two distant doorsteps.
You, white house picket fence stethoscope you
Stand with a sparrow well-groomed.
I, ending the journey alone
In a red-brick window sill
Peering inside.
I have broken a few bones
Over our journey of four years
And my wings need are in need
Of resetting, and a man
Is inside the red-brick house:
He is a little jealous, and opens the window
To keep me close, so I can't fly away again.
He puts the bones back in place
And if I could weep I would
Through the white sharp icepick pain. That moment
Protracted over days weeks months years,
Ending when you say the words
And I do not hear them
Because I am listening believing to the red brick man
Who tells me sweetly that I am worth
More than many sparrows.

Litany of an LO

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,

Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being loved as an LO...
From the desire of being extolled as an LO...
From the desire of being honored as an LO...
From the desire of being praised as an LO...
From the desire of being preferred to other LOs...
From the desire of being consulted as an LO...
From the desire of being approved as an LO...
From the fear of being humiliated as an LO...
From the fear of being despised as an LO...
From the fear of suffering rebukes by classmates
who act like I'm being paid to work for them ...
From the fear of being calumniated as an LO...
From the fear of being forgotten as an LO...
From the fear of being ridiculed as an LO...
From the fear of being wronged as an LO...
From the fear of being suspected of not texting things on time...

That other LOs may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That other LOs may be esteemed more than I ...
That, in the opinion of the world,
other LOs may increase and I may decrease ...
That other LOs may be chosen and I set aside ...
That other LOs may be praised and I unnoticed ...
That other LOs may be preferred to me in everything...
That others may become better LOs than I, provided that I may become as good an LO as I should…


Adapted with fondness from Cardinal Merry del Val's litany of humility, found here.