wake up.

"Children dont grow up.

our bodies get older,

but our hearts get torn up."

so much emotion in this song. love it.

this is what writing is about

"My task which I am trying to achieve is, by the power of the written word, to make you hear, to make you feel -- it is, before all, to make you see. That -- and no more, and it is everything. If I succeed, you shall find there according to your deserts: encouragement, consolation, fear, charm -- all you demand; and, perhaps, also that glimpse of truth for which you have forgotten to ask.To snatch in a moment of courage, from the remorseless rush of time, a sapping phase of life is only the beginning of the task. The task approached in tenderness and faith is to hold up unquestioningly, without choice and without fear, the rescued fragment before all eyes and in the light of a sincere mood. It is to show its vibration, its colour, its form; and through its movement, its form, and its colour, reveal the substance of its truth -- disclose its inspiring secret: the stress and passion within the core of each convincing moment. " -Joseph Conrad

Chivalry is dead--and women killed it.

i was gonna write something on this topic but this video explains things quite well...

the world needs another bruce lee

The representation of Asians in the media have increasingly become more racist and stereotypical. Current popular Asian actors such as Kim Jeong and Bobby Lee have sacrificed their integrity for the big bucks. They have sold their soul to the devil. Movies like the Hangover (dont get me wrong I liked the movie) and any other Kim Jeong related fiascoes ruin the hard established persona of every Asian person alive. I hate it, I mean I fucking despise it when Asians are played as ignorant, effeminate, heavy accented me love you long time fucking chodes. Honestly, people who jump onto television or whatever and perpetuate idiotic stereotypes as bad driving, small dicked, girly, incompetent, nerds should burn in hell.

The age of Jackie Chan and Jet Li are coming to a close as they approach their 50's and 60's. I am going to miss these two guys dearly because they help promote the idea that we Asian people arent weak, that we arent just a bunch of pussies. After they leave, I really dont see a prominent, self-respecting Asian person in the media. Where else do you find such characters who lead action films or box office hits such as Rush Hour? Although they help create the stereotype that all Asians know martial arts, it wasnt such a bad stereotype. Growing up, I heard countless attempted jokes calling me Jackie Chan or Jet Li. Seriously, it wasnt such a bad thing. Those two people are very respected--nothing offensive about them. If you call me Bobby Lee on the other hand, I will be pissed.

I greatly honor the presence of such pop culture hits as Wong Fu, Far East Movement, Jabbawockees, and Quest Crew who have paved the way for Asians in the mainstream. It is not often that we are highly respeceted. I am grateful for such people as Hayao Mizaki, Michael Chang, Yao Ming, Ang Lee, and etc. I send gratitude to Disney for starring an Asian actor in Up. Although all these people are great, none of them compare to the mighty presence of Bruce. America, the fucking world needs another Bruce Lee cause the future doesnt look to bright without one...

cause me dont fucking love you a long time. I am a person, I am an Asian American.

tell the world

wish you were here

here is a really good song from an awesome band... posting this just for funsies, ill be back with my rants, tirades, nostalgia, and other goodies later... also analysis at the bottom.

(Album Cover from Wish you were here)


Pink Floyd- Wish You Were Here



So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

---------------------------------------------
quick analysis:

The song is complicated but simple at the same time. With the series of contrasting elements that are juxtaposing one another, we are provided with two very distinct outlooks, scenes, feelings, and images. The most important line, I find, is the first--"so you think you can tell heaven from hell?" This single line sets up the whole song and even explains an intelligent perspective of life; an awakening of oneself to whats in front of his/her eyes. It simply asks-- is the world heading in the right direction? And could you tell if it was or wasnt? We have wars and governments and science and medical break-throughs and love and hate and humanity and genocide. There is just this feeling that things are building up to something, somethings happening, but whether that something is good or bad (heaven or hell) is a mystery. We love technology and innovation and the mass creation of buildings, but is that an improvement for the Earth? We love flowers. We love nature and great blue sky and the animals. A vast, lush green field filled with wildflowers, the occasional tree and some critters is a fucking beautiful sight--an image that cannot be replaced with anything else. So why? If nature is so beautiful, why do we keep expanding--keep infesting the land with our steel, with our pollution, with trash, with these buildings? Or we can think another way--these wondrous inventions and this concrete jungle could be an utopia of prosper, intelligence, and happiness. The path the world is treading is unknown--(utopia with an age of intelligence or doomsday by nuclear holocaust) Through this uncertainty, through this mist of chaos, through all this fucking bullshit pain and suffering, all i need is--you. I dont know whats going to happen in 20 years or 50 years or after I die, but all I know or wish--I wish you were here. It could be anyone: a friend, a dog, a lover, jesus, buddha, it could be anyone, anyone your heart desires to keep the mind, body, and soul safe. Im not looking for answers, but someone to...be near...to not go through whatever will happen alone. We might have compromised our integrity, sold out our future, doomed/saved it all, but dont leave me here alone. Wish you were here. Wish you were here. Thats what the song means to me. wish you were here.

some thoughts from the last three weeks

Here are some thoughts from the last few weeks. Some are happy, some inquisitive, and some angry.

Dogs and Dresses? WTF!
The world is going to hell in a hand basket. We have a major economic crisis that is causing countless people to starve, to rot. There is a grotesque war in the Middle East,pandemic after pandemic, and a bunch of other bullshit that is ruining people's lives. Yet, the topics of choice for the media and the ridiculous public have barely trimmed the surface these crucial issue. All they care about is what dog Obama is going to get/or got and the fashion sense of his wife. What the fuck is that? Who the hell cares what dog Obama gets. Unless its a scientifically altered super dog that shoots laser beams out of his eyes and can kill terrorists and stop nukes while simultaneously fixing the economy with his business degree from Harvard, I dont care. Also, why is there so much talk about Michelle Obama's fashion sense. Ok I get. She dresses nice and what? Why is that important at all? The only thing these idiotic media faux pas do is perpetuate the idea that Obama was elected solely on the basis that he is this hip jive turkey that is with the in crowd. Lets not tarnish his character and prestige. I voted for Obama and I believe he will do good. His first 100 days have been remarkably productive although several things have caused me to raise an eyebrow or two. (He sent more troops into Iraq? That's not what you promised...) He is doing good considering the mess Bush left for him. So...my main point here is--STOP THE FUCKING NONSENSE! STOP THE DOG AND MICHELLE CRAP! That is not news! Lets get back to the issues people;Stop being pawns to the media and letting them control your thought process. Focus, focus, focus on what is important to your life and your general well-being.

http://www.nydailynews.com/lifestyle/fashion/2009/05/01/2009-05-01_first_lady_michelle_obama_kicks_in_own_foot_feat_for_fashionistas_lanvin.html (Yahoo! Headline 5/1)

Beware of Swine-O's
Im not too scared of the swine flu bonanza that is spreading. It just seems to be the same as the bird flu a few years ago or the regular seasonal flu. Things are just being blown out of proportion like they normally are. When things start to get really serious like a death toll nearing the hundreds or even the fifties in the US or the disease mutates into something worst, ill start to panic. Hmm... mutates into something worst...I would be more interested if the flu stuck true to its name...



but that's definitely not the case...or is it? However, although Im not scared, all this talk about getting sick made me realize something I had never really thought of. If I got sick or hurt, I would be FUCKED. I mean really fucked. I use to be on government funded health insurance (Medical) ,but after I turned 19, the government decided to wave their bastard finger in my face and kind of say," uh uhhhh, oh no. silly Chinese man. no more reassurance for you." Soo..I have become just another one of those countless Americans with no health insurance. Remember that accident I was in a few weeks back? I thank g...(oh yea, Im sort of an atheist) I thank science that I wasnt hurt. My family can't afford for me to get hurt. My sister once told me that if I ever get shot and its not a critical wound, dont call the ambulance. In my head I was thinking, oh yea, ill actually lie there bleeding assessing the damages and then call for help. I've never cared about this issue before because I dont know--I was a young naive kid?--but now fuck. this sucks. The American health care system is a joke. They wanted to privatize health care? Protect your people America, we are dying. So...in light of all this, I've decided that I am going to walk around with a sign that says handle with care or fragile.

(thats right you sexy fragile devil, keep safe.)

Also...Stay away from me you pig nose swine-o's.

More Broke Than My Car
I am broke broke broke. I have no money and my car is still broken and yea that is basically it.

FML?
Shit is bad right now, but Im not going to resort to that usually saying of retarded social hype beast FML because well... thats stupid. Fuck my life? seriously life could be a lot worst. Try living in Somalia or Darfur. Try being black in America from 1700's to 1980. Try growing up in the poverty areas of China or Vietnam where school isnt an option and the only income you have is collecting sand crabs and selling them at the congested market place--by the way at the age of 8(my moms story). Think about how much worst shit can be! Fuck my life is just another buzz word like emo a few years ago. When I first heard it, I thought it was hilarious and only said to make fun of someone. Only James knows what I am talking about. Its an amusing saying, but its getting overboard people. quit that shit. everything in moderation, even words!

FML? seriously. All I have to say is FU.

Happy Thoughts?
I guess I forgot to put some of those. Um... School is out in two weeks! (despairingly and with no emotion) YAYYYYYY...

floating for aegis

angst and anguish
teeming over
cracking, bursting through
the conscious levee
flooding out
drowning logic and sense
suffocating
the person inside
who lies
floating face down
eyes closed
drifting slowly with
small bubbling breaths
that shout and cry
through a soundless sea
of cold hands
too far to reach.
lost--floating
pretending to hope
for that aegis
of the heart

Moment of Clarity

Let me divulge more about this phenomenon i like to call Moment of Clarity..

its a natural, simultaneous feeling of peacefulness, understanding, and clarity. To be free of thought and unbound by reality.

-As i was saying in the post below, that car crash was an interesting experience. Those few seconds that felt like an eternity cleared my brain of any previous thoughts. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't thinking about my family problems, school, my apartment, my lady troubles, anything... I was free from those thoughts that cloud my mind and rain stress. It was all so clear.

-I said "I'm fucked" and accepted it willingly. My eyes never blinked as I strode across the turf and flew within inches of the car. I was certain I was flying toward doom (doom not at death, but as something bad). I was certain. Certainty is a rare commodity. As they say, the only things that are certain are death and taxes. I accepted my fate without hesitation.

-There was so much noise, but I didnt hear a thing. It was quiet and peaceful.

That is what people are looking for in life. Peace and Certainty
I always search for Clarity.

When I go camping this weekend, I am going to try star gazing. I think I could find some there...

Car Crash

I had my first car accident today. I know its weird, but it was a very interesting experience. There should be a billion other words I should use to describe such an incident, but I actually find interesting the most fitting word. I am not angry or sad or anything along those lines. The cost of the damage is the only thing that is bugging me, but situations like that are endless. Money is Money. But the car crash was...odd. (immawrite in thoughts)

hard to explain
everything was slow...
Its a moment where you can see everything
and feel everything, yet you feel so helpless.
Cliche, but those few seconds felt forever
I floated through time
moments happened in frames
it could of been the adrenaline
things just seem so clear
I was flying straight into the car in front of me
flying into my own doom
the interesting part of it, besides the whole slow motion matrix experience
was the certainty of it all. I've never been so certain of anything in my life
Although I was slamming onto the breaks and clutching for dear life at the wheel
I already knew in my head I was... I resolved... I said to myself "I'm fucked"
My brain flat lined; all thoughts were gone.
Although it was a very bleak view, it was true.
I have never accepted something so easily in my life.
The acceptance of the situation, of the impending doom caused some calm in me, some peace
its weird. things were quiet although my music was playing and my tires were screeching.
things seem so clear.
it wasnt until the crash, the physical hit, when I snapped back into reality.
That utterly inevitable fate I was gliding into, that path into certainty
certainty and acceptance-- was beautiful. It was simply... interesting
there are few instances in life that can give you that "moment of clarity"

Sonnets!

Here is my lame sonnet i wrote for my Eng 180 class... it was suppose to be about love.

Cold Nights

I could still remember those quiet, cold nights
We spent snuggled close and hidden from light.
Our legs tangled tight and hands connected
As like lost puzzle pieces perfected.
We lay near, cheek to cheek, heart to heart
So abreast, my love stood ready to start
Your beating heart if it should ever stop.
Because all of you, from bottom to top,
From your beauty to your mind, I adored.
You gave me one kiss. I then gave you four.
That night, I feared it far too soon to say
I would love you from now 'til my last day...
When I recall those nights, There's always tears
Cause those nights and you are no longer here.


this poem is based on a short story i was planning to write, so dont be surprised if a story with the same name comes out...

Haiku!

For my English appreciation class, my teacher made us write a haiku. I wrote this one about a special something/someone...

A haiku needs four parts:
1) 17 syllables over a span of 3 lines consisting of 5-7-5.
2) tell of one of the four seasons
3) involve nature
4) has some sort of thought or idea

I didn't know of the last few rules so I only did step one. so here is my haiku, my lame and I stress lame sonnets will be coming next.

Great Love of Mine

My lips know the taste
Of your soft and lit ends that
take me far and high.


for fun I wrote another one right now...

Afternoon

Shapes and sounds float slow
As I melt pondering the
quiet drifting clouds



can you figure out what im talking about?

Be yourself

My teacher told me something interesting today; He said

"All literature is a struggle to find individuality"

We are in a life long fight against the general, the bunch. We live in conflict against the stereotype.

Everything we do (think, say, love, hate, strive, cry, fail, win, learn, teach... et al) makes us, Us. Our being is idiosyncratic.

Through whatever means. Find individuality. Find Your Voice.

Such a Nerd

As I was sitting here doing my homework, I realized that I have some weird...hobbies? I am not really sure what to classify them as. To quickly note some of these quirks...

1. Lexicons! I have adapted this odd habit of looking up words. My time on the computer usually is split between email, facebook, blogs, and dictionary.com. I like finding new words. (Nerd alert) I have even signed up for this word of the day email. I find it very sad that I look forward to those daily emails. Quite depressing. Despite this, I still feel my vocabulary hasn't grown very much. My memory is terrible. No matter what, Chan can incisively extirpate me in scrabble any day.

(incisive was yesterdays word of the day =) )
*I was reading a xanga of a friend of mine and ran into the word catharsis. Great word! bravo!
catharsis- purging of emotions

In my findings, the word that I discovered to be the most idiotic is felled. As in, I felled the cup.
felled- causing something to fall by force
no matter how many times I say it, it never sounds right.

2. Movie Reviews/Trailers! I dont know why they are so appealing to me. I just really like to read movie reviews. They are just so fascinating. (God I am lame) Also, I am ebullient about movie trailers. They are my favorite part about going out to the movies. Maybe its the marketing schemes behind it and the shortness in length that appeals to my low attention span. Trailers are great because who doesnt want to watch a whole movie in about 2 minutes. You get the best scenes! Also, while i am on this subject, I am fervent about writing a Watchmen analysis/review.

Those are two of my many lame hobbies. Yes yes yes, I am a nerd.

I'm Awkward.

I lose myself in my own insecurities.

The only way I can connect with people is through a mutual understanding. It may be vain/conceited/self-center, but I cant get along/bond with someone unless they get my me- my humor, my corniness, my awkwardness. I am hidden, my personality I mean is cloaked until I feel safe enough to unveil the lame-o that is me. As like all people, I find friends and lovers in the people who get me, who laughs with me. I've said this before in one of my stories "That's all I ever wanted from anyone, understanding of my weird, stupid behaviors."

I always found that my strength,laughter. I never realized it until hard times hit my friends. On separate occasions, my friends had their hearts broken. I am not good with sympathetic words, so I said something stupid- but not something stupid in a bad way. I said something that is inappropriate to some people, that is weird to others. A person that didnt know me would have brushed me away, but not my friends. They giggled, chuckled, a nice guffaw and said," I knew you would be able to make laugh." Before that I never saw things that way. That felt...indescribable. Everyone looks for meaning in their lives and importance. No matter what you do in life, whether you made shit load of money, had a huge family, find your dream job, the most significant thing a person can accomplish is to make a difference in someones life- a positive difference of course. At those words, "I knew you would be able to make me laugh," my eyes opened. I made--scratch that-- I make a difference in people lives. I can comfort them. I can give them support. I can make people happy. I am significant.

I am awkward nonetheless. I am a guy can see something ordinary and make a stupid comment. In some ways I guess you can call me immature. I giggle when I hear things like "come." When I play scrabble I look forward to making words like chode and tit. Andy mentioned he wanted to try grinding and I told him thats disgusting. Of course he was talking about snowboarding, but what can I say- he set himself up. I say stupid jokes because I know they are stupid. Someone once asked me what rating did Pirates of Caribbean get and I quickly cocked my eye, bent my arm to an L, and said in rasby voice "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr." Get it cause its a pirate movie and its rated r. Wink Wink Nudge Nudge.

Booger. I like to make stupid, ridiculous comments. I like to make people laugh. I hate to be boring. I am useless without my awareness, my comments. If I was put into a white room with nothing in it, I would be boring as hell. I can't stress this enough, I HATE TO BORING. I feel very insecure when the people around me arent having a good time. When giong out and doing stuff, I put people ahead of me. I prefer my friends fun over mine. I try my best...

My weakness, my insecurity is silence. I hate when people dont talk. I cant stand it when I get no response. My friend Thang figured this out back in junior year. Me and him would always mess around in Chem and the teacher hated us. One day, for a reason I dont really remember, Thang decided to take away the "laughter." He had a theory that the class only laughed at my jokes and comments because he laughed. He tested it. I would say something stupid and he would not respond- he just kept quiet and coincidentally no one laughed. After of a few of these, my insecurities beamed and I faltered. When things get quiet, too quiet I get nervous. I shrink and wallow. I get desperate and incoherently talk. Speak. Say whatever just to break that silence. The point of this story isnt to highlight Thangs theory, but to show my kryptonite. Silence to me is like bullets to people. It just kills. People didnt stop laughing because Thang was right but because I got nervous and started rambling. For a minute, I lost myself.

I hate to be boring around the girls I like. I hate to be out of things to say. I hate to feel useless. I'm not sure if its my fault or not though. Conversations require two people right. What am I to do when she stops talking, when she shuts me out. Is it because we dont work together? I know I'm better than this. I know I can show you a good time. This makes me wonder if I was ever boring with my ex. Its hard to tell there because in relationships, silence is usually filled with kissing. So back to current news, what do I do when she gives me silence. I get annoying and I get belligerent. Theres always a flurry of "what are you thinking of" "Are you tired" BLAH BLAH BLAH. FUCK!@$##$@# I am an idiot. I am very awkward when devoid of speech. There was this time when she didnt say anything for a good ten-fifteen minutes and I got so desperate for something to say...so desperate I was actually going to say "so...Obama. How about that?"........... god, I am a loser.

I am lost in silence. I am lost when I cant show someone a good time. I am lost when I feel insignificant. I lose myself in my own insecurities. I'm awkward.

My tummy feels like....ow. (I write while bedridden)

Food Poison (the worst kind of poison)
So you are telling me food is poisonous? But I love food! I really dont know what I ate to make me feel so sick. All I had for dinner yesterday was some rice with chicken. Well it could be from that celery/baby carrots and ranch thing I had after. A part of me did think it was a bit chunky. Also, I am starting to believe that my apartment has become a petri dish of disgust, germs, bacteria, and disease. It is just riddled with unrelenting mess dealt by someone else's hands. While I was washing dishes, I did take a whiff of something foul. That could have possibly sent parasites through my flaring nostrils and into my helpless chiseled body. For whatever reason (either one, none, or all the ones listed), I have been confined to my bed (stomach in agony I might add) eating protein bars I stole from shohei listening to some gloomy deathcab with nothing else to do but write. I do have shit load of reading, but my head keeps spinning...so that is entirely out of the question...so here I write while bedridden in this hell...

I AM A FOOL!
There is not a single moment that passes in a day where I think I am anything short of a fool. I mean I am an idiot. Like an oaf, a retard, simply a FOOL. It is entirely foolish to hang on to someone who doesnt care about you. It is also exceedingly dumb to the one billionth power to clutch with dear life to a person that is in love with someone else. Some things just cant be helped. I know better, but I just want...

wait.....stomach hurts.............................................brb
(ok sigh)

Some thoughts

The Ever-changing Shlong Beach
Things have changed so much since that one fateful Summer of 2007 when James and I found this little complex and made it our home. Through this last year and a half, much has changed. The line-up is constantly growing, diminishing, and changing. Month to month, nothing ever seems the same. It seems that I am the only original member of Team Long Beach. Things are always changing.. but I will never forget the time spent with the ones who left. These things may sound very homo... but the thing is... roommates have a special bond. Its different.

James (Aug. '07-Dec '08)
I sat next to James during physiology senior year. In that class is where I decided my future. I had a choice between SDSU or CSULB. It was a close race until I found out that James got into Long Beach. LB provided two things for me. One, it allowed me to start my own dynasty, my own mark. You see, my sister attended SDSU. Second, since James was going to LB, it gave me a friend in the land of Snoop Dogg and Sublime. (oh god, I'm glad I never considered going to Riverside! Im not saying that its a bad school, but that would have been very awkward... and a very aweful decision) After a long hot Summer of apartment hunting, we found a nice cozy place on 4625 Bellflower. We slept on the floor the first night and at the end of the first week of school, our friends helped us move into our new home away from home. I remember the first dinner we had at the apartment. It was hot pockets we slightly burned. After we finished that horrible meal, we both thought the same exact thing- college is going to suck. That was the last time we had a meal like that... well... this other night we had meatless spaghetti and trust me-Don't ever ever eat food without meat. its TERRIBLE! We would have nightly dinners at the table which was weird for me because at home I ate in my room. I know, very very homo, but cool. We would have occasional visitors and thats when we learned to say Itadakimas before eating. James was an interesting roommate. I remember that I would always have to be on the look out because while I played games on the computer, he would always sneak up behind me to try to scare me. It was ridiculous. Some days he would slowly crawl and some days he would hide under a blanket. I would turn around and see him and yell "i see you fatass!" ,but he would just lie still pretending I didnt see him. October 2007 was a rough time for me and James help me through that. He even agreed to join my rampage against Sid. Haha. In our apartment, we had twin beds positioned on each side of the room. We would always try our hardest to sleep before the other person. You see, in our group, James and I snored the loudest. When we werent doing that, we just talked. I also remember the times when we use to webcam with our friends and we would double team them by showing a Long Beach style mooning. In our one bedroom apartment, we had a lot of plans. I always told him about my idea of the putting pictures of people who pooed in our restroom up in the restroom, of using these rubber corner things I found off the package of the fridge as coasters, of making a video newsletter of our lives called "living with a giant." I always liked showing him my stories and writings because he liked them. He was the first person to see "Cue the Sun." I even gave him a role in the terrible revised version where all he did was rub his tummy and say he was hungry. Things were always quiet at the apartment ,but I thought it was nice. This is where we came up with the idea of Slutfest 2008 which by the way was an epic failure. Good Times.

Wilson (Nov. '07-May '08)
Since Wilson moved in while we were still settling into the apartment, I consider him an original member. I really enjoyed living with Wilson. Of all the years I've known him, I felt closest to him when he was my roommate. He and his sister were suppose to move into the apartment next to us ,but something happened and he needed a place to stay. Of course we welcomed him with open arms. While James and I had beds in the room, for the entire time we lived in that one bedroom, Wilson slept on the futon. When Wilson moved in, we would double team James with fat jokes or James and I would attack him with gnome jokes. Most of my memories of Wilson involves him on that futon. When he didnt have to leave the house, he wouldnt get off that dang thing. He would just sit there with his laptop in a pair of pajamas eating cereal. Kix! Kix are for Kids! No pun intended. I do no know why, but wilson always had Kix. He always brought home a box of Kix. Sometimes he slept with the box. Its funny, when he was asleep, I would eat all his Kix and then grab some and sprinkle it all over him ,so when he woke up he thought that he ate it in his sleep. HA! This wouldnt be that unusual because Wilson has some weird sleeping habits. He would sleep talk and sometimes he just sat up and mumbled stuff. I think he was fighting one time because he started kicking. In the first few months he lived with us, Brian would come over and we would go to Morongo. I swear, in that time Wilson lived with us, we went to Morongo like 20 times. The thing that I remember most is this one night when Wilson got in a fight with P******* and I was trying to comfort him. We just sat in the living room for hours drinking beer. Well, I drank only one, but still it interesting. We just talked. Things werent the same when the Frat stuff started . There would be a string of days where I didnt see him. He slept a lot during those times, but I cant blame him. Eventually, the commute to Fullerton was killing him, so.... yea. Kix! good times.

Mike (Sep. '08-Jan '09)
Mike was awesome. When we moved into our two bedroom apartment, Mike really liked how it so he moved in. During the time I lived with him, we became good friends. For some reason, we went to go eat at Westminster like 3 times a week. It was really good. Also on a side note, he hooked it up on Vans stuff. haha. Mike was funny because he loved to come up on things. He just loved coming up. (too tired to finish)

Now Shlong Beach is made up of Me, Vietnamse guy Brian, Mohei YamaGAyguy, and Pothead Joe. Things are ever changing.



Are we Dancers?
Sooo... I went clubbing last week and it reinforced a notion that I have known for quite awhile now. I am entirely too goofy for clubs and I am a pussy. I don't have it in me to see a girl and shimmy my way over to her and just start boogieing down. I'm just too awkward for that. Any date I had from my high school dances would reinforce several points.

1. I am a terrible dancer. As like my other cousins, I am not musically inclined...at all.
2. I am a goof ball. I like to make up stupid dances and just act silly.
3.That poke wasn't just my belt. sorry...
4.I am a terrible dancer. I just thrust.
5.The mixture of 3 and 4 is a bad combination. seriously sorry.
6.I am a goofball.

Don't get me wrong though,I have not been discouraged from going out to clubs and stuff but next time, we definitely need to bring a group of girls. I'm just...terrible. Honestly, I will never meet a girl at a club or party because of the informality of it. I cant picture myself saying stuff like "whaatttttttttts up girl" and "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam you fine."

School & Routine
I am taking four English classes this semester. I really cant fuck up now that I am in my core classes. 2 more years of school. That's my goal and I think I can do it. I just need to buckle down and get shit done. I slacked off way too much last semester ,so i made it my goal to work my but off. The weeks have become almost routine for me now. Things are so predictable and so bland. Everyday I wake up and arrive to my first class about ten minutes late, sit through 3 hours of school, go home, mess around on the computer, take a nap, wake up, read my mountains of pages, go to sleep, and repeat the steps the next day. school sucks.

Sit. Think. Reflect.

I do this all too often. I get this surge of inspiration that motivates me to write and post and repeat... but then suddenly, out of the blue, I just stop. I stop posting, I stop writing, and the energy-surge in me just dies. I did this with my xanga and I am doing this now. Usually, I would apologize and state a new determination to make amends with my blogs, but this time I will skip that whole charade and just do. Although I am not going to apologize, I will explain. Everyday, I want to write. I want to write because I have something to say and because there are thoughts that are constantly running around in circles inside my little brain that want to be set free from its tracks. I guess the determination was there. The problem was that although I want to free these thoughts, I can't. I am scared of being too honest. I am scared of telling too much. That entirely goes against my idea of speaking raw and real, but sometimes I cant help it. I dont want to be left vulnerable. That is a problem. Until I can deal with that, I will never be able to write the way I want. Until I become fearless... In my writings, I avoid a head on course and I just side step everything. I allude and briefly touch the surface, but I never grab the horns. I need to remember "never avert your eyes."

Well, also... I dont want to hurt anyones feelings...

Hmmm... I have unconsciously did what I said i wasn't going to do. From the point I am heading too, it seems like I am apologizing and about to set upon a new road of change. No. Lets just say I am sitting in my little black chair right now, thinking about my life, and reflecting.

Its Her Christmas Pics =)

here are some pictures i said i would post up. yes yes, i know my fly is messed up on a few of them. whatever! enjoy.

my lame sister, mr. tree, and I.

Theres mama bear. I dont know why, but she always has this weird grin in pictures.

and there is the lady of the hour...

hopefully its an xbox 360!!!!


Daphny, papa bear, and me.

This is my family minus my brothers.

anyway, that was Christmas. I will post soon. I have been preoccupied on this project I have been working on. that is all for now.