Here.

I felt my heart leap up right out of my chest when I saw home. It was that very moment when I realized that this little town will now be mine, and that no trace of familiarity will comfort my new life from what Denton will hold true for my future.









I am on my own.









Like most people, I compared this new home from the old. And frankly, they're both quite similar. It's the whole small town vibe that gets me. This town would give me great, night joyrides and beautiful sunrises from atop of the steep hills. I could go bike riding across campus, take a spring break trip canoeing with my collegues, and make snow angels after caroling in a cool, winter night. I saw all of this from that first glance, and I could tell that my heart recieved a very warm, sweet first impression.







Long story short, I walked around the campus by myself as my family chilled in the visitor parking lot. I wanted to 'tour' around from within my perspective, and find out "where" is "where" from "here" and "there". Fortunately (hopefully that sounded sarcastic), the great, big summer heat cheered me on as I walked step by step to each building. Figures. Noneoftheless, I saw names like Human Development Building, Dance-Gymnastics Center, Old Main Building, Pioneer Hall, the Blagg-Huey Library; I took good mental pictures at them, and wondered when I would enter inside them. And of course, my eyes soared as I finally reached the Music Building. It was right next door to the Fine Arts building, both connected by a beautiful courtyard with a prideful moneument of a lady (probably because it's, hello! A women's university), and I made those baby steps into that wooden door surrounded by the crisp, white carved cement walls and entered inside the Music Building without thinking twice. No one is gonna stop me from going in.







And no one did. The building had greyish, square tiles, and over to the left I heard a lady (from the sound of her heels clacking) scanning something from a copy machine. Yet, my eyes darted right into the Margo Jones Performing Hall and I invited myself right in. The walkway reminded me of how you walk inside a movie cinema; very dark, with pathways from opposite directions. There was something absolutely wonderful in the brightly lit, empty auditorium that made me just want to burst out crying. I wanna perform here. SO bad. The ceiling was massively high, and the stage was adorned with elegant, brass organ pipes from each side. It was actually quite smaller than my highshool's, maybe seated about 150 seats? But it was all very welcoming, and had 3-tier levels in the seating arrangement that made it clear that there was no such thing as getting a "bad seat". Everything looked really lovely.









And then, I ran to the stage. I checked the side wings if anyone was around, but then reassured myself that I was truly alone. This whole stage was mine for the moment. I walked in front, center. I looked out the audience, and I realized that this very place is where I want to be. But then, I resisted leaping outrageously from laughter right into a song, from dancing like a leprechaun, and bending down in one knee and reciting an old dialogue from Shakespeare. It didn't feel right. I wanted people to watch me, and my crazy foolish performing driven-self. And I promised myself, one day, I would be here again.









Nostalgia kicked right in when I walked off, because it occured to me that my highschool glory days were really over. And, although it would never be the same, I wanted this new life to have that part of the old. It hurt, but I would be lying to say that it didn't motivate me to do it all over again. "You can take the stage away from this girl, but you can't away this girl from the stage...." Hmm...maybe I should consider taking theater as a minor?









I saw a sign that listed all the room numbers when I exited out the performance hall. "Music therapy.....215." And sure enough, I was on another mini adventure to check out the room in which I'll be in for the next 4 years.









I took the stairs, and heard a faint guitar strumming as I entered the second floor. The guitar played a soft, elegant melody; almost lullaby-ish. The tune lead to the very left end of the hallway, which was the direction of where room 215 is. Sure enough, there was a classroom door cracked open, and I knew a lecture was going on...I just didn't expect it to be exactly in the Music Therapy room. I slowly walked towards the room, and alomst instantly, the students glanced their eyes towards me as I peeked in. Embarassed, I stepped out and looked at the bullitens hanging around the hallway instead. "Music therapy jobs being offered", "New Internships Available" were what I read through. And GAH, I couldn't resist! I peeped inside the classroom again. This time, I saw my future professor standing smack dab in the front. The same professor I emailed back and forth about my audition date. She had warm, brownish hair with fair, glowy skin that would even make a tan person wish to be pale. She was happy. She loved to teach. And I wanted to be part of that class and learn, too. And that was all I needed to see.









I finally left the Music Building and took the long way back to the visitor parking lot. I even saw more little discoveries, like a cute greenhouse nearby the Science Building, some tennis courts, soccer field, softball field, and-GAHHH! IS THAT AN OUTDOOR SWIMMING POOL?! Score! And some precious water fountains that just really made my college stunning.









I returned back, knowing that the next time I get to see everything again would be my freshman orientation....two more weeks.




The drive leaving the college campus felt bittersweet, almost like I'm being separated from a new friend. And I glanced back one more time before my brother turned the corner, and could still see the big, welcoming sign. And, childishly, I waved goodbye at the place and felt that if this college was human, it would've waved back, too.









Funny, I always referred to Denton as a town over "there". But for once, I can now say I can't wait for the day when "there" becomes "here". It made the future feel absolutely, completely, and entirely perfect.

Today from its yesterdays.

Ressa should feel lucky. School got cancelled today and she got to sleep in until noon. All the tests must now be postponed until Monday, which means three days of studying than she normally would. Thursday and Friday performances got rescheduled until Saturday and Sunday, which means two extra days of still getting three more chances to perform on stage.

It seems like God is doing me a favor of some sort, like he's trying to let me take a break by giving me a snowy storm that never came. While people say how much the weather "sucks" as they openly express their disappointment on facebook statuses, I, on the other hand, felt the urge to post a new blog post, feeling pretty gracious of the man upstairs making time pause at the present.

When was the last time I updated this anyway? I feel pretty bad for neglecting this during Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, my birthday, etc., but looking back at how I feel from now and then, it hasn't really changed.

I felt thankful at Thanksgiving, blessed at Chirstmas, hopeful in New Years, and those three feelings combined in love as I turned 18.

As I sit here typing about my past and present, there's never a day that I long for my future....which leads to why I'm glad school got cancelled today in the first place. One, I'm still waiting around for college to creep inside my head. The more time passes by, the more I feel out of place. No college accepted me yet. No college rejected me yet. But then again, no college should notify me about anything yet.....until March that is. After I applied to my 'dream' schools, I realized that those schools weren't as dreamy as I thought they were. Why on earth did I want to go to school in Massachusettes in the first place?! The most exciting thing to go is Walmart if I ever attend there. And pshhhh.....Ohio? Sweetie, that deadline already passed. You knew in your heart that's not where you belong anyway. But no, I don't want to stay. I can't stay. Being in Texas..........is not where I belong either. That's certain, too.

Even staying at home for more than 4 hours in a consious state has been dreadful. I've grown out of the cycle of my parents deciding thing for me, to myself haiting them for making decisions for me, into the moment if my life where they dno't want to decide things for me anymore.....but still feel significant enough to say how much they hate the choices I make instead.

You would think that my parents would've trusted themselves to think they've raised me right, but what bothers me more is that I can never picture them loving me stronger through my mistakes.

And so although I don't want to be accepted to some of the colleges I wanted in the first place, receiving a rejection letter from them would equally crush me.

So bundling up underneath the covers of my bedsheets doesn't bother me as I'm facing the world with a question mark day by day. And no matter how much I make myself become the girl I thought I was, I'm drifting away from myself faster and faster.

Who am I to say I'm great? Or awesome? Or brilliantly special of any sort? How can I place myself in categories of love and hate? Needs and wants? Good or bad? Because people tell me something different everyday.

And I'm tired of it all. I'm sick of trying to 'find' myself and all that stuff. That's so old. Or that whole girlie excuse of "I always smile when really.....I'm sad!!!!! Now love me!!! *teardrop*" Uh, LAME.
(I smile because I am happy, Mr. Whoever invented 6 Billion Secrets.)

I'm just growing up....and it's hard. Period.

And I realize that I'm too smart to be stubborn about it. Or too young to knockout my self-worth.

I deserve to make me feel happier about myself.


I'm daring myself to make these words into action.

Little Chance

She starts her day before the sun could rise,
closed her eyes too quick before the moon shined,
not a soul knows her name yet says it proud
waiting for the moment to speak aloud

She's got everything or so they say,
she can't tell when she's good enough these days

From this little chance
she's no match,
outside her home
problems crash,
but hope gave touch
before she speaks,
it's enough to bring it back
bring it all back
inside

Another day has started again,
yet the sun moved on past her second chance
there was no moon outside at night
the fear grows from within her mind
longing for everything to be just fine

She's got everything or so they say,
she can't tell when she's good enough these days

From this little chance
she's no match,
outside her home
problems crash,
but hope gave touch
before she speaks,
it's enough to bring it back
bring it all back
inside


She thought
she figured
herself out by now
but that
can't take
away those promises
kept inside her mouth


From this little chance
she's no match,
outside her home
problems crash,
but hope gave touch
before she speaks,
it's enough to bring it back
bring it all back
inside

From where it blends.

I'm not sure where I stand anymore between what had happened from September 'til now.

These first months of school sorta blended together in a manner that I can't even recall what day of the week or month it is, or for that matter, the distinction between a week and month.

In some ways, my life never changed, like my life after 2:15pm. I go straight to the choir room, do Cabaret rehearsals......maybe All-State practice.....or sometimes both.....and then have play rehearsals from 6-*8pm (it was 6-9pm last week.....) and then I do homework until I fall asleep. It's always been this way after the first weeks of school, and generically, since sophomore year if you consider the time slot I've stayed at school day after day.

But then, I look at how much everything has changed. The new people I've gotten close to, the responsibilities gained, being surrounded by the same people I've known who are in the midst of some transformation of themselves.....it makes me wonder what's better.....the time when everyone knew too little or how everyone knows too much?

There are times when I just stand where I am and look up.....thinking that all the answers are right above my head. And sometimes this strategy actually works. But for right now, more than ever, I've realized that all my answers aren't from what I think I need to do, but what's been in front of me every single day.

With each day passing.....it's taking so much out of myself to just get a grip. Not that life is too hard for me to handle....but it's controlling an amount of 'you' that longer feels agony to a phase which makes insanity appear normal; normal enough to make days mix in evenly and inseparately together.

What makes it hard to figure out is if this is a 'good' or 'bad' thing. And then I figured it's a 'Ressa' thing. So, is Ressa feeling good? Bad? Well, at the end of the day, I feel unstoppable. It's hard to tell what I do feel during a day. It's unexplained in words, yet shown more with actions from a thoughtless nature inside of me.

I see people blending paint to draw a picture, my father stirring up cream in his coffee before his long day at work, words turning into mumbles from friends conversing at an end of a hallway, and a leaf turning red for fall. It's finished when the drawing is done, when the coffee is slurpped down his throat, when talking is no longer important, and when the leaf falls off a tree.

This heart of mine can't be stopped that easily. It's growing, rather than fading, and it mingles into a gentle soul. It wants to move the earth, hold the sun, and challenge the moon to stop her before day ends. Because although I blend, I live.

And living takes more than breathing...

Because crying heals.

So it wasn't until a few minutes ago that I've decided to give my blog an update. All because of chocolate that said:

"Crying heals your soul, faith inspires it!" -Gloria, Huntington Park, CA

I kinda look at it and thought to myself," Wow......just wow."

I guess I've been swooned by this statement partially because of the fact that I'm currently performing in Godspell, which is a total life-changing experience to be a part of it as well as for everyone who came and watched it (from what I heard atleast). In the show, there's a scene where you're suppose to cry, which I've struggled with.

One, I'm with people(cast) that I've been really close to, and seeing them see ME cry.....sounds really uncomfortable. And, yeah. It's hard for me to cry.

And, personally, the rehearsals got frustrating for me because I didn't want to make it seem like it was such a big deal for me to tear up. And I was scared that I wouldn't do my role justice. I was even more afraid I was trying too hard to feel sad that it comes out pathetically fake.

I was SO afraid, I practiced crying in front of my mirror.....which sounds absolutely ridiculous typing. But then I sorta gave up trying and decided to rather pick up my sleep routine before school started, which honestly, is doing no good for me.

Two, I start thinking about my 'last time's' at Dawson. Like, my last first day of school.....or my last fall musical opening show.......or having 5 more chances to sing my solo on stage. And I'm prettttty sure it won't get easier to think about when it gets close to April.

Three, I have this random frenzy inside of me to just take everything in. Which is probably similar to reason #2, but not really. Like how my mom and dad keep bringing up all the little things I did when I was little. How I liked performing in the shopping cart everytime my mom went grocery shopping......how I liked to eat my french fries when I was 2........that moment when I wanted to be just like Britney Spears or how I always wanted to live in Disney World one day.

And then last Friday was our opening night......and then here I was....about to take a deep breath in singing my solo. And then I looked out and saw an irridescent-colored dream from above the audience......resembling myself back when I was 5 twirling around in a tutu telling my mom that I wanted to be a performer someday as my mother would try to make me settle down and get into bed. I wanted to catch that floating memory and hold it in my palm....like how my character wants to reach a pebble and place it inside her shoe.

And then I saw 5-year old Ressa running towards me, embracing me, holding me, and smiling sweetly with that crinkly pink tutu that took my mother took forever to let me take off when I had to get ready for school next morning. Looking at that girl.......actually...myself.......made me cry.

Choir and theater is giving me this personal light. It's different this time around......being with/growing up with people who all want to do the same thing as you when you grow up.......it's just all very nurturing.

And then there are days when I think to myself........'What am I gonna do with myself?' So many people are missing in my life right now.

My formal voice teacher.
Both my grandfathers.
My grandmother.
My uncles.
A few of my distant cousins.
A friend who died of cancer.
A family friend who got pregnant way too early in her life.
The friends who moved out.
My elementary teachers that I've now realized had died a few years back.

Those people make me cry. They believed in me.....alot.....even when I didn't see myself that way.

And there's people who feel that same way about me.....and stayed with me for this long in my life.

And they also make me cry.

And then I look at my old childhood pictures and past yearbooks and elementary art projects and all the silly things I wrote down in my old diaries when I was 6.

I cry again.

And then I see myself now.....brushing my teeth.....writing notes for Statistics.....drinking a Lemon-berry Sprite at Sonics...and bringing myself back home to sleep. My dream hasn't changed.....I just thought up of more dreams to add on.



There's a reason for everything at this point, and I have my absolute faith in it.

The tears healed me.

What I've been hiding from.

So I've realized better. & that I've been making myself frustrated for nothing for the longest time. And I want to quit.

Maybe I was just playing it safe.......or insecure of my intelligence. But now I know I need to give credit to myself a little more. And not just keep putting this 'wall' up.

So basically: I don't want my naiveity.

This doesn't mean I don't want to be innocent anymore or I'm trying to get corrupted.

Uhhhhh, no. There's a fine line between that.

There's just this different side of me that I want to get to know of. A part of me that I want to uncover.

I want to explore this particular side of me and maybe possibly allow myself to arise from it.

It sort of seems unfair that I've only thought about this until now, but I feel as though this whole time I was being selfless enough to make myself be behind from everyone else. I wanted everyone to be happy that I would make myself unhappy by 'playing it dumb'. And that in a way, is selfish.

Yet, I don't think anybody wanted that from me, which is what made me decided of this decision in the first place.

I have this greater desire to learn.....but I think I've been distracted from so many doubts and 'what if''s.'

Another reason was the fact I didn't like to be prided of. I like feeling proud, but not in a sense of where I am reputated by it.....which is crazy, because I'm already known for what I do for music. I think there's still this 6-year old in me that believes that I'm not 'old' enough to be recognized or become 'someone'. I still have a long way to go, which I do, but I'm far past the starting line.

But I want to learn about myself enough to find a 'somewhere' for me while staying 'here'. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. This is where I take my future into some deep consideration.

I want to find this inner balance in me that I wasn't ready to grasp yesterday......or the past 17 years of my life.

This is not one of those 'I want to be a new me and change foreverrrrrr!' type of stuff. This is me in growth. Nothing is changed or taken away; just more appreciated by a different approach.

Because I still like laughing obnoxiously and spinning around in circles.

Blind Pursuit

Another song finished. This time, it took guts, tears, and some vulnerability to complete it. But I feel like it's worth it.

I.

Smile,
that's what they say
but I can't for you today
Laugh,
that's what they want from me
but I'm no good at pretending

I'm surrounded by possibilities
that weren't meant to be
and I'm distant
from where home is guaranteed
I'm told that its best to leave it be
but now I'm here with a broken dream



There was no beginning that triggered it
from what I can believe
just a continuing mistake
that I have yet to redeem
yet the struggle is more powerful
than the desire to be complete
people ask if it's possible
until now I have no clue
I am proof that breathes
everyday with a blind pursuit



II.
Speak,
you prefer that from me
yet I prefer to disagree
Listen,
since I'm making no sense
but you can't imagine my nonsense



I guess I'm living in some delusion
that I keep fantasizing
being hysterical
to distractions overwhelming
I'm told to forget about the unnecessary
but I can't tell the difference between the contraries



Being wrong is far from what I fear
because the hidden truth is more than staying here
yet there's no ending
to a situation like mine
because I'm always the girl
running out of time
figuring out all
that she wished she knew
I am proof that breathes
everyday with a blind pursuit