Memoir

For me,  memoir is an opportunity to reflect to look inside of myself and to say what I feel. This genre made me realized that memoir is not all about what happened but it's all about what changed me and why am I the person I am today. 

Magic Is Within Me

 When I was a child, I was the type of kid who believed in magic. I would often make my own fantasies in my room or go outside and play with my pink magic wand, a blue robe from my little brother and an old book that was given to me by my grandfather. With these combined with my eager imagination, I could explore deeply  in the depths of the Wizard's World exploring the mysterious castle, fighting against Ogres, trolls and wicked witches.

Even though it was sad as it may seem, I really did believe in magic. I was not ashamed for I was confident that I would receive my envelope admitting me into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as long as I believed in magic. People might think magic was not real but as a kid like me, nothing was impossible.

My grandfather once told me, “Magic is real as long as you believe.” Then I asked, “But why can't I see it?” He laughed at me as if I was begging him for a lollipop. “Once you find the meaning of magic you can easily see it.”

As a kid, I did not really understand what my grandfather said which made me upset and kept bugging him to tell me that truth. He repeated what he just said over and over again. I had no choice but to wait. I waited with the possibility that an owl would swoop in to my window with a letter of parchment paper tied to its leg.

I waited and waited as I was planning what would I do with my life once I become a wizard in the future. But years passed by and I still do not have a letter. The disappearance of that letter made the disappearance of all my hope. And soon, the dream was forgotten. However, as I grew up with no spells, wand or flying broomstick I realized something: magic did exist. Maybe it did not appear in the form that I had only pictured because I was eager to have the same story as Harry Potter. 

When I came to my grandfather’s place it surprised me when I looked outside my old bedroom window and saw the great moon and beautiful glittering stars. It almost said hello as I witnessed the moment of kindness and affection in my eyes. Also, it made me feel welcome and comfortable to stare just like a form of being friends or caring family who always there for me.  In that moment I finally found out what magic was.

Magic was love. Magic was joy.  Magic was music. Magic was hope. Magic was God. Magic was everything in your life that could make you feel magical yet mysterious.

True, I did not live as I had imagined since I was so very young. But I had found the world as it truly is, and found it to be a hundred times more satisfying and fulfilling. For magic is real, and magic is here within me.

June 30, 2014

20:20 pm

Used To Love

We played like we were only jamming at our house. Everyone was clapping their hands up high as we played. TJ played the beatbox. He was on the left side of the stage beside me. Jano, our leader, played the bass and he was on the right side with Leanne who played the rhythm guitar. Harlie played the piano and also sang alto. Uno sang the melody. And I played the lead guitar. We were all standing there with the spotlight not feeling any nervousness. We did this plenty of times already for four years. 

            The stage wasn’t that big. It was filled with balloons in different colors. There was red, pink, blue, yellow, and purple. The prints on the balloons said: “HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY NICA!” We were all wearing skinny jeans, black converse shoes, and black top. We bought those together in Urban Planet at Promenade Mall. The crowd was cheering for us: “WE LOVE YOU LIGHTSRINGS! MOREEEE!” We all loved being cheered. We all loved delivering happiness through music. As I looked on the faces of my band mates, they all looked radiant. I saw big smiles on their faces.

We wanted to play one more song but we only prepared one song, which was originally by Rocksteady. It was called “Smile At Me”. As we walked toward the backstage, Jano said excitedly: Where do you guys want to go”?

The rest of us shouted:”LET’S EAT!” We put all our instruments at the back of Jano’s green, Honda van and got in. We went to Markham for some good, real food. It was a long drive and I can’t recall the name of the restaurant but it was a fancy one. We all ordered Korean barbeque, rice, taro bubble tea, and chicken soup.

While we ate, TJ spoke: “We can do it you know? We will travel all over the world to play our music.” Our faces looked hopeful.

I then replied: “Of course we can! I’ve been dedicating most of my time in writing songs”. These people were like family to me. We planned on travelling together. We already started saving years ago. Ten dollars a month didn’t hurt. We thought of changing the world through music. We imagined bringing peace through our lyrics. It sounded impossible but we all believed we could. It was a very promising moment.

           My phone vibrated energetically. It seemed like it wanted me to read the message right away. I was at our church located at Finch and Bathurst. Harlie, TJ and I were in the music room waiting for our two other band mates to come while we took photos since we were all wearing black attires. It was a room as big as the CIC in my school painted in white. The room was filled with almost nothing. This was why we chose this as our official practice room. We could easily fit in all our instruments inside. I finally decided to read the message, which was sent by our leader, Jano, while Harlie and TJ play the grand piano. Both my hands were holding my phone with a purple case worried that it might fall. I was sitting down comfortably in a long, wooden chair just beside the grand piano.

My faced dropped as my eyes widened while I read the message. I could not believe what I was finding out. There was definitely a mistake. I read it again. I tried to think. I could not think. I was sweating. I hated it. I slowly walked towards Harlie and TJ then showed the message. I watched their face changed from cheerful to puzzled and disturbed and damaged.  “Tell me this isn’t happening! He’s just joking right”? Harlie said while tears ran down through her face. I could not open my mouth. I was in a deep shock and my mind was filled with confusion.

TJ stood up. He rapidly grabbed his iPhone from the wooden chair and promptly walked back to us. His eyes were watery. He looked like he was about to cry. He was obviously trying to hide his pain and agony. With a shaking voice I finally spoke: “Why? Why is this happening? Is he being for real? He didn’t even tell us why he was disbanding our group? I don’t understand! He said it through text? Is he nuts?”

 TJ called him but he was not picking up. He tried to contact him again and again and again. His grip on his phone was becoming tighter. He sat quietly. His face was haunted. Harlie on the other hand sent him a couple of messages but he did not bother to respond. She looked worried.

The room seemed smaller than usual. It looked like we were locked in a tiny box with no exit doors. There was no air in the room. I felt suffocated. It was winter but the room was boiling. It made me sweat so badly. I just stared on the paintings on the wall. I didn’t know what to do. I had never been so blank my entire life. I wished I could think of solutions but my eyes gazed to one of the paintings. Not that I would get any answers from there but still. There was a broken piano drawn in it. Dried roses were on top of it and it was missing plenty of white and black keys. It looked like it represented torment, broken dreams, and destruction. I did not see hope at all. It affected me so badly I burst into tears. I hated it. TJ and Harlie came close to me. TJ was also tearing up. He painfully said: “What about our plans?” I didn’t want to remember our plans but it was better to let it out anyway. Seeing him cry for the first made me realize that he actually cared for our band, for us. It hurt me even more. I hated it.

Harlie was crying the hardest. She covered her eyes with her hands but her sniffs were too loud for us to not know that she was still crying. TJ and I managed to stop our tears but our eyes were flaming. We looked like we were drunk. Our eyes were so red and it felt like it was burning. TJ tried to comfort her. She finally stood up still covering her face and went to the washroom to wash her face. TJ finally decided to go to Jano’s house and left the room quickly and mentioned: “If this didn’t work today, I hope you guys won’t give up. We’ve worked so hard to reach this stage. I’ll never let go.” He slammed the door with a wolfish face. That was the last time seeing TJ’s face that week.

           I just sit there motionless. On my soft, bed while I hug my green pillow. I grabbed my phone from my white study table with my right hand. It had been a week. I read the message once more. It said: “I think this is the end of the road for us. I am officially disbanding our group. Thank you guys!” TJ didn’t find him that day. My mind was still drowned with questions. I value our band more than anything else. Music was the closest thing to me. And I didn’t realize that until a week ago. I put my phone back down. I put myself in bed sideways. I closed my teary eyes. I wanted to forget everything for a while. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to escape the memory. It was hard to move on. I still thought about writing songs. I used to love it. But now, I hated it.

May 19, 2014

22:37 pm