Abruptly, without anything to lead up to it, and as if the question had been born of long and silent meditation on his problem, he demanded: "A sheep; if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?"

"A sheep," I answered, "eats anything it finds in its reach."

"Even flowers that have thorns?"

"Yes, even flowers that have thorns."

"Then the thorns, what use are they?" I did not know.

At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst.

"The thorns, what use are they?"

The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head: "The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite!"

"Oh!" There was a moment of complete silence.

Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness: "I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are naïve. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons..."

I did not answer. At that instant I was saying to myself: "If this bolt still won't turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer."

Again the little prince disturbed my thoughts. "And you actually believe that the flowers..."

"Oh, no!" I cried. "No, no no! I don't believe anything. I answered you with the first thing that came into my head. Don't you see, I am very busy with matters of consequence!"

He stared at me, thunderstruck. "Matters of consequence!"

He looked at me there, with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine grease, bending down over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly...

"You talk just like the grown-ups!" That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly: "You mix everything up together... You confuse everything..."

He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze.

"I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved any one. He has never done anything in his life but add up figures. And all day he says over and over, just like you: 'I am busy with matters of consequence!' And that makes him swell up with pride.

"But he is not a man, he is a mushroom!"

"A what?"

"A mushroom!" The little prince was now white with rage. "The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? Is this not of more consequence than a fat red-faced gentleman's sums? And if I know, I, myself, one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing, Oh! You think that is not important!"

His face turned from white to red as he continued: "If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars.

He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there...' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened... And you think that is not important!"

He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing. The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted. I took him in my arms, and rocked him. I said to him: "The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will..."

I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

stolen from kirsten <3

Brazil Trip 2006 Highlights

* Hearing Portuguese everywhere and successfully speaking it sometimes.... basics
* Wilson - our first tour guide
* The Jeffs getting deported from Argentina
* Going under the Iguacu falls and getting completely soaked
* Juan, Su's Argentinian lover
* Brazilian food: fried bananas, churrasco, Guaran?..
* Dancing at the hotel and learning the famous dances
* Volleyball in the pool at Hotel Panorama
* Matte parties and T or D games
* Late-night talks and chilling with the Jeffs
* The aviary filled with pretty birds
* Shopping in Iguacu
* Charles on the city bus in Iguacu and practicing my Portuguese
* Dinner show at Rafain
* Macuco Park: Andr?and swimming/kayaking in the Iguacu River
* Quatis!!
* Getting TAN
* Fun at the bus stop :) w/ the guy who drove by 3 times to look at Su's dancing
* Marcos
* Sunset at Chapada
* DRAMA
* Swimming in waterfalls
* Amazing Churrasqueria and my "beautiful blue ears"
* Pousada Piuval - and meeting other NoVAers there
* Night walk seeing animals and gorgeous night sky
* 2-hour long "sunrise walk" --> our first lesson in brazilian time
* Being on TV for the local news story: boat trip - Dolly and Dr. Cammer interviewed
* Practicing my french with the french tour guide
* Strip Capitalism
* Horsebackriding and galloping in the water
* Swimming in piranha/caimen/anaconda water
* Dance at Piuval and learning how to dance forr?
    - dancing with Marcos, Alberto, Davidson, Su's local "lover"
* Night swimming
* Piranha fishing -- I caught two!!
   - being interviewed for TV and re-enacting my fish-catching scene for the story
* Guitar circle at the 2nd lodge - Canto do Arancu?BR>* Learning some basic guitar from Marcos
* Playing on a submerged bridge and jumping off trees in more piranha water
  - and getting a million tiny splinters in my foot!
* Getting better at brazilian dancing at the 2nd dance party at the 2nd lodge our last night
* Swimming at 2 am
* Getting attacked by a bajillion mosquitoes
* Listening to new brazilian music on Marcos' iPod
* Brazil shirts =D
* Irimeu -- Su's new 13-year-old boyfriend
* Helping Gustavo through his fear of flying for the first time
* Getting our boots quarantined in the Agriculture place at Customs

Marcos Quotes:
- Where is the war, Su?
- Grub's up
- I'm the man!
- (Singing past the model) Gor-geous
- When it goes, you go. When it comes, you come... (Pause) You may need that last one later in life
- First the bird eats the plant and craps it out. Then the crap feeds the seed.
- (To bull) Wanna fight? Let's go. (Bull doesn't move) Coward. Next time, then.
- When he gets bigger, he'll be very, very, very big
- I am the man, ladies. Let's dance.
- Muito bom. I like to see that very much
- (About Su's foot) I saw a girl in the Pantanal once whose foot was covered like that, and 3 months later she died.
- You can break my heart, but you can't break my back.
- Oh, two ladies together... what a shame guys.
- Hold your horses... and we're actually on horses
- I don't prefer funk dancing, but I like to go to the clubs to watch those big butts shaking from top to bottom. It's very exciting.

<3 BRAZIL 2006
best spring break ever

** yes, i am lazy. :) and picture updates will be on webshots.

so i dont really use this piece of junk that often anymore, in fact i think it's been quite a while since i wrote anything meaningful at all. and what i thought was meaningful before really wasnt, i was just being a pretentious, bombastic asian girl who thought she had the depth to write something profound.

we've been practicing for i-night a lot lately, kind of sucks that we're only just getting so dance-y after we just finished choreographing on sunday. we're still going to kick some major rumpus. (and by rumpus i mean rump, rumpus just sounds better, but it really means a loud din. betcha didnt know that, did you.) we're going to freakin destroy. you just cant go wrong with accessories--hats, ties, sashes, we've got it all under control. and by we, i mean four out of six. i am not one of the four.

i was driving home today, reviewing the dance in my head, (sort of, because i was also shouting furiously and pounding my fist into my steering wheel--i kept getting cut off by 60 mph idiots in the fourth lane) when my poor shriveled brain decided enough was enough and put some mood music in my retarded, ultra ghetto cd player. i listened to a bunch of oldies, and the songs i used to share with other people--you know what i mean? that whole "oh this is our song" deal. so stupid, but god, the nostalgia. i seriously felt a sudden and (almost) irresistable desire to see this person again, to call and ask what was up. but i was a on self-controlling-roll, and i refrained. it was a good decision--i thought it out a lot when we became estranged. and this just makes me feel slightly (and by slightly i mean extremely) proud of myself. i am a freaking machine.

on another note, i'm really excited about the party on friday (after i-night, which, if you read this and are in the area, you are obligated to come to) and my sleepover with wendy. i've missed her, also. bummer, i've been missing a lot of people lately. oh, and beach week. i'm excited about that. and korea.. well skippy, i'm excited about a lot of things, too. and since we're being random/disjointed, i feel sort of desperate about rocking our performance so hard that the roof collapses and.. everybody just about dies from our hotness. please, please, please? we're crossing our fingers, we might get lucky.

and i keep having mood swings. i pray this stops because then i'll have to start introducing myself as "hello, my name is su chu, and i'm manic."

p.s.
i just like p.s.'s.

Advice for those who are seeking it, but more specifically for those who are lost. Just leaving something for my final and parting entry... Goodbye xanga-mates, to those of you who read.. [or inspired me to write] I want to say it's been a real pleasure and the entire experience [writing to you] was truly magical. best wishes always.

---------------------------------------------------------
"The fact is," said Rabbit, "we've missed our way somehow."

They were having a rest in a small sand-pit on the top of the Forest. Pooh was getting rather tired of that sand-pit, and suspected it of following them about, because whichever direction they started in, they always ended up at it, and each time, as it came through the mist at them, Rabbit said triumphantly, "Now I know where we are!" and Pooh said sadly "So do I," and Piglet said nothing. He had tried to think of something to say, but the only thing he could think of was "Help, help!" an it seemed silly to say that, when he had Pooh and Rabbit with him.

"How would it be," said Pooh slowly "if, as soon as we're out of sight of this Pit, we try to find it again?"

"What's the good of that?" said Rabbit.

"Well, said Pooh, "we keep looking for Home and not finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this Pit, we'd be sure not to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because then we might find something that we weren't looking for, which might be just what we were looking for, really."

"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit...

"If I walked away from this Pit, and then walked back to it, of course I should find it."

"Well, I thought perhaps you wouldn't," said Pooh. "I just thought."

"Try," said Piglet suddenly. "We'll wait here for you."

Rabbit gave a laugh to show how silly Piglet was, and walked into the mist. After he had gone a hundred yards, he turned and walked back again...and after Pooh and Piglet had waited twenty minutes for him, Pooh got up.

"I just thought," said Pooh. "Now then, Piglet, let's go home."
---------------------------------------------------------

-Taken from The Tao of Pooh

 Wild Forget Me Nots

When bees hum in the linden tree
and roses bloom in cottage plots
Along the brookside banks we see
the blue wild forget-me-nots.
Shy flowers that shun the prying eye -
content to let the daisy hold,
The glances of the passers-by -
with brazen stare of white and gold.
Forget-me-not!
From long ago it stirs the thought of happier days
For memories like wildflowers grow -
along the heart's untrodden ways.