- MIA breathing:
It would be wonderful to say that I learned this the first moment my eyes cast upon her magnificent beauty--but that is not the case. The first time I saw her was rather ordinary. What I remember the most is the sun; it was about to set. There was a yellow dew clouding everything, even her face. This catch-my-breath breathing was not experienced until years later. It can be described as a moment when your brain ceases to think, and all your medulla oblongata can manage to do is make your heart beat. This level of breathing only lasts for fractions of a second, but it can feel like forever--maybe because your brain checked out. This type of breathing I learned whenever she surprised me. I don't mean holiday-gift surprise me, but the special kind--like having her kiss me for the first time because she wanted to. Or hearing her cry for the first time because I harnessed the ability to hurt her. For that, I am forever sorry, darling. Perhaps others have tried to teach me to catch my breath, but none of done it as successfully as she. - Steady-breathing:
I'll admit that this breathing is very difficult to learn, and I have yet to perfect it. This breathing is required when my emotions are rolling into a great typhoon, but I want my face to appear as serene as cherry blossoms drifting on a warm spring's day. Often, it is necessary to use this method of breathing in order to maintain the situation. Situations include when we are rationalizing with one another or when I am on the phone and she is nearby. Kwok Kwok. I suppose only she would understand that allusion. Learning to breathe this way will help me improve as a person, and would definitely prove most beneficial as I grow older. - Love breaths
This is when we start to kiss and allow our fingers to...get your mind out of the gutter. It is using your fingers to caress the other's cheek or laying gentle kisses around the other's face. When you look at the other person and you smile. Not because you are thinking about something happy, but because you feel absolutely joyous from every fiber of your being. There is no thinking involved. You just wallow in the other's presence and feel completely content. You watch the way her eyes squint when she looks at you. The way the left corner of her mouth raises just a little higher than the right when she smiles at you. Every little detail becomes precious. The breathing involved in this process is very cathartic. Very deep, long breaths that seem to fill your whole body up. You can't help but sigh and turn away at the end for fear of the other person's expression changing. Breathing in this manner is wonderful. Thank you, my love, for bringing so much into my life.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Learning to breathe
Someone very important in my life wondered why there was not more of my page devoted to her. Well, here it is, darling. This post will be devoted to exploring the different ways in which I have learned to breathe because of her.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Fish
Dear [insert your name],
I am sure you are expecting a mind-blowingly clever blog after resting your eyes upon my title--and you are right. This blog is so clever that even I do not know what it is about (hence the poll). My goal is to entertain you and keep you interested (while keeping my clothes on). Now, I will venture upon the path of sharing a random story of my life with you. Just so you know, the names that I use will be aliases.
For my birthday a while back, my friend (let's name her Tori) decided to get me a Betta fish. I was rather bewildered at first because another innocent life was placed in my hands. Not many people know my dark past...but I have already murdered three goldfish. Apparently, you cannot cram three goldfish into a small fish bowl and expect them to survive--even when you feed them plenty of flakes throughout the day. Funny things, those fish. Anyway, I digress. I decided to name him "Dinosaur" in Cantonese, but for the purpose of this blog we can call him Dino. Dino was not the easiest fish to start raising. He would give you heart attacks half way through the night because he liked to play mind games with you. Whenever you looked at him he liked to sit on the gravel, and I don't mean sit as if he were resting. He would lay there with his big googly eyes and stop breathing. No matter how hard you shook the tank, he would not swim. The best part is that Tori got herself a Betta fish as well. His name is Toothless. Toothless would frolic through the waters and practically have a seizure whenever I poked at the tank; Dino would wallow at the bottom and not budge when I terrorized him. I know what you must be thinking, but you are wrong. Dino was not fat; he was a rather scrawny, blue Betta. To make matters even more unfair, her water was clear as day and mine was as murky as the toilet bowl after liquid poo. During the third night of caring for Dino, I noticed a yellow color spreading around his gills. Even I was not so dumb as to let the notion except me that he was dying.
Then I had the genius solution of making Tori put Dino in her tank with Toothless because my tank must have been the problem. It had to either have been the fake plant or the Buddha figurine that was poisoning my fish. I couldn't possibly have been the problem. I know what you're thinking, but I am not so cruel. Her tank came with a divider, so her fish did not have the chance to kill mine. Surprisingly enough, Dino made a full recovery in her tank. He was swimming around and almost giddy. I then proceeded with my experiments. I hypothesized that either the fake plant or the Buddha was the problem. The first step was to...just kidding, I won't bore you. It ended up being that those items were not poisonous. After a few days, I threw Dino back in. Then lo and behold, he fell sick once more. It hurts the eyes to watch that tiny blue creature drag itself across the gravel. By this time, people were yelling at me for mistreating that fish. Apparently, constantly shaking the tank and trying to get Dino to move was not the best course of action. After leaving him alone for a few days, he actually livened up. Yes! I win. Except then I had to transport him in the car, and he lost half of his water in a speed bump incident. My car seats were unhappy, but probably not as unhappy as he. Inevitably, he reverted back into his moping-in-the-gravel state. However, after a few weeks, I am proud to say that he has made a full recovery.
But the legacy continues. Tori decided to get my girlfriend (let's name her Jadyn) a Betta fish as well for Christmas. Now, knowing this alone may not set off an alarm in your head, but what if I told you that Jadyn is going out of town this same weekend after she receives the fish? It is my duty to care for her fish. But alas, her fish hates me too. Her fish, let's not name it, is already laying depressingly on the gravel. It won't eat anything and is immune to my terrorism. Would it look bad if her Christmas present died in my house before she came back? Probably. Maybe I can film the slow and agonizing death of her fish as a documentary and give that to her as a Christmas present. I'll even add in my own sound effects...but something tells me she won't appreciate it. Let us hope that her fish makes it through these hard times.
Love,
Alexia
I am sure you are expecting a mind-blowingly clever blog after resting your eyes upon my title--and you are right. This blog is so clever that even I do not know what it is about (hence the poll). My goal is to entertain you and keep you interested (while keeping my clothes on). Now, I will venture upon the path of sharing a random story of my life with you. Just so you know, the names that I use will be aliases.
For my birthday a while back, my friend (let's name her Tori) decided to get me a Betta fish. I was rather bewildered at first because another innocent life was placed in my hands. Not many people know my dark past...but I have already murdered three goldfish. Apparently, you cannot cram three goldfish into a small fish bowl and expect them to survive--even when you feed them plenty of flakes throughout the day. Funny things, those fish. Anyway, I digress. I decided to name him "Dinosaur" in Cantonese, but for the purpose of this blog we can call him Dino. Dino was not the easiest fish to start raising. He would give you heart attacks half way through the night because he liked to play mind games with you. Whenever you looked at him he liked to sit on the gravel, and I don't mean sit as if he were resting. He would lay there with his big googly eyes and stop breathing. No matter how hard you shook the tank, he would not swim. The best part is that Tori got herself a Betta fish as well. His name is Toothless. Toothless would frolic through the waters and practically have a seizure whenever I poked at the tank; Dino would wallow at the bottom and not budge when I terrorized him. I know what you must be thinking, but you are wrong. Dino was not fat; he was a rather scrawny, blue Betta. To make matters even more unfair, her water was clear as day and mine was as murky as the toilet bowl after liquid poo. During the third night of caring for Dino, I noticed a yellow color spreading around his gills. Even I was not so dumb as to let the notion except me that he was dying.
Then I had the genius solution of making Tori put Dino in her tank with Toothless because my tank must have been the problem. It had to either have been the fake plant or the Buddha figurine that was poisoning my fish. I couldn't possibly have been the problem. I know what you're thinking, but I am not so cruel. Her tank came with a divider, so her fish did not have the chance to kill mine. Surprisingly enough, Dino made a full recovery in her tank. He was swimming around and almost giddy. I then proceeded with my experiments. I hypothesized that either the fake plant or the Buddha was the problem. The first step was to...just kidding, I won't bore you. It ended up being that those items were not poisonous. After a few days, I threw Dino back in. Then lo and behold, he fell sick once more. It hurts the eyes to watch that tiny blue creature drag itself across the gravel. By this time, people were yelling at me for mistreating that fish. Apparently, constantly shaking the tank and trying to get Dino to move was not the best course of action. After leaving him alone for a few days, he actually livened up. Yes! I win. Except then I had to transport him in the car, and he lost half of his water in a speed bump incident. My car seats were unhappy, but probably not as unhappy as he. Inevitably, he reverted back into his moping-in-the-gravel state. However, after a few weeks, I am proud to say that he has made a full recovery.
But the legacy continues. Tori decided to get my girlfriend (let's name her Jadyn) a Betta fish as well for Christmas. Now, knowing this alone may not set off an alarm in your head, but what if I told you that Jadyn is going out of town this same weekend after she receives the fish? It is my duty to care for her fish. But alas, her fish hates me too. Her fish, let's not name it, is already laying depressingly on the gravel. It won't eat anything and is immune to my terrorism. Would it look bad if her Christmas present died in my house before she came back? Probably. Maybe I can film the slow and agonizing death of her fish as a documentary and give that to her as a Christmas present. I'll even add in my own sound effects...but something tells me she won't appreciate it. Let us hope that her fish makes it through these hard times.
Love,
Alexia
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