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After school I took the bus to my mom's office. I love bus rides. I mean, I always love rides, but bus rides are great. Yes, you could be unlucky enough to sit next to some person with a shifty personality and a strong body odor. But, put on some music or strike up a conversation with a nicer person and you have yourself a one-way ticket to inner peace. This is one of the times where I can actually let go and daydream about anything without having to worry about homework or schoolwork or paying constant attention to friends.


But that's not the point.


Later, I walked with my mom and her friend along Ala Moana beach park. The sunset was beautiful. Gorgeous, even. The water was a little choppy and I couldn't help but find the scene ironic. A calm, setting sun with a turbulent current beneath. It was around this time that I felt another sense of peace from the irony.


But that's not the point.


For dinner, my mom wanted some chicken katsu (excellent stuff) from Local AAA B-B-Q. So we went. And I let loose all my worries, stresses, and frustrations. My mother is an amazing woman. Stubborn, flighty, and entirely too smart for her own good, but amazing nonetheless. I don't know what I would do without her. She is beyond a parent. She is beyond a friend. There are no words in my humble vocabulary to describe what seems to be an ageless and eternal bond between us. We are so different and yet, so similar. I seem to have and hold an attraction to odd/different relationships.


Again, that's not the point.


The point is that during our dinner, I saw a man. An old, depressed man who looked ragged and tired of the world as he pushed several carts back to the main supermarket of the area. And then I saw a young girl to the right. The first thing I noticed was her short denim skirt. She looked like the type of Asian girl who had it all... given to her by her doting parents. I know neither of these two people's life stories. In fact, my observations could be entirely false.


The point is that here is life. Life is dichotomy. Life is all about pushing carts for a living and buying unnecessary Prada bags. Life gives you a dying child cold and alone in the streets and an old man living in a large mansion surrounded by pretty young women. Life is about having our hearts torn apart by terror and tragedy and mended by love and happiness. Life is about sheltering ourselves in a cocoon of apathy and aloofness because we don't want to deal with other people's problems or angst when we surely have our own personal Hell to deal with.


Life is about expressing all this. Life is about writing about such thoughts at 12:28 AM after four hours of homework. Because if you don't dig deep into yourself, tear the answers from your heart, and shout it out to the world to give them a voice... you are lost.


Lost in your own warm, safe, ignorant coccoon.