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Wednesday, August 27th, 2008
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Things change.
I don't fucking care anymore. And I am not uncomfortable with that fact.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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I've always tried to keep mind over matter. Always the head before the heart. Sense before fantasy.
But it's hard sometimes.
I'm tired of it all.
There's no shame in taking off the armor once in a while, right?
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Saturday, March 3rd, 2007
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Wednesday, May 12th, 2004
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| Subject: | Talk to me, tell me your sign...switchin sides like a Gemini :D |
| Time: | 4:37 am. |
| Mood: | spaced out. | | Music: | Yellowcard - Only One. |
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Well, I went to a class today (wow? Haha j/k), and my TA was commenting on people being uncomfortable with human contact. Even the mere acknowledgement of the existence of other people. I totally get this.
When I walk around campus, I have this funny habit of looking people right in the face that are walking by me in the opposite direction (I don’t turn my face directly at them, I just move my eyes). Most of the time, their eyes are glued to the ground, and occasionally just straight ahead, or they are talking on their cell phone and aren’t really paying attention to anything else, but rarely, they happen to make eye contact with me, upon which either a)they quickly glance away and focus their eyes either at the ground or anywhere else, or b)they look straight back at me and hold my gaze, usually with a suspicious look that says “Wtf are you looking at me for?” Even when my facial expression isn’t conveying anything at all. Maybe I should try turning my face, too. Probably freak people out even more.
This is funny, I suppose. Why are people so afraid to merely acknowledge the presence of others? I know that in smaller towns in the Midwest and stuff, anyone who merely drives by gets waved at, and a lot of the time the people waving don’t even know who they’re waving to; they’re just being friendly. Well, it’s a bit different here, no?
There’s something like 20,000 people at my school. Something like 25% of the American population has a bachelor’s degree. So, just by merely being here, you’re already in a unique group of people. Just the fact that you’re here probably means that you’re not an absolute tool (though I’ve met a few exceptions, haha). Most of us here are roughly the same age, and (at least at my school) come from the Southern California area. And about half the freakin school is of Asian descent, like me. I don’t know for sure, but I can guess that most of us have cell phones, computers, chat programs, have at one time or another gone to the local Del Taco or In’N’Out for a food craving, and live a typical “OC” type lifestyle that I don’t really know how to describe with a few words, either because I’m spaced out right now or all writing talent has deserted me. Maybe a bit of both. Whatever. When friends introduce you to other friends (at least in my experience), it’s so easy to find common ground with people, and to just talk with them. There seems to be so much stuff that you can relate to with everyone; it doesn’t matter if you were the ASB type in high school and they were a stoner. Yet, most people walk by each other without saying a word.
Anyways, yeah. I don’t know if it’s just at this campus, but the solidarity is pretty crazy. My TA said she liked to smile at anyone walking in the other direction just because watching their reaction is madly entertaining. I’d have to agree. I don’t even bother to smile at people, I merely just move my eyes in their direction and they get fidgety. Smiling takes it to a whole new level – they know you’re acknowledging them, and begin to panic, because you doing so is so rare that they don’t know how to properly respond.
I suppose that socialization has made it so that if I smiled at a guy, he’d probably immediately think that I have an alternate sexual preference (I’ve never done it, but I’ll bet that’s what would happen). At least that’s what I would think if some random guy I didn’t know walked by and smiled at me. I don’t know how it is with girls, though I’d bet that if a girl walked by another girl and smiled, there would probably be a lot less of a homosexual connotation behind the smile, and just be more out of politeness. Funny how that works.
While everyone seems to be playing this “I’m in my own little world” game, I don’t think that by any means they really relish in it. In one of my classes today, I got there a few minutes early, and someone else that usually sits in the same area sat next to me and asked me a few questions about an upcoming midterm, and we started talking about it. Someone in the row in front of me turned around and joined the conversation, and a moment later, a person two rows forward. Insert a few slightly off-topic remarks and a smile, and I had a nice, fun conversation with three strangers. Funny, that’s all it takes. A short question, an offhand remark, whatever. I guess the classroom setting is different, though, since you can actually justify one’s opening a conversation as having legitimate reasons (like having a comment or question relevant to your peers in the class you’re in).
I read, from time to time, articles in magazines and online sources and whatnot of how certain people met, and how some silly meeting that doesn’t seem like anything special ended up with a pair of longtime buddies. It seems so simple. When I think about the people I know right now, and how we met, it’s usually either a friend of a friend, or a hallmate I lived with, or someone whose parents are friends with mine. I can’t think of a single person that I met either from just random occurrence.
And then there’s the possibility that people are just too lazy. My friend was commenting on how walking around campus, he doesn’t acknowledge people he barely knew in his dorm. It seems like you’re too lazy, and that the benefit of talking to them outweighs the cost of a possible awkward situation, and maybe someone would rather just get to wherever they’re going a few minutes faster. It might not be a good habit, but it’s easily understandable why it happens. I do this, too, also with people who I know from high school, though we’ll usually have the little head nod and a casual “what’s up.” Sometimes it just seems kinda stupid. “Hey sup.” “Nothin much, haven't seen you in a while - how's school?” “Oh, whatever.” “Ah, well, gotta go, seeya around.” And you don’t see them for another few months, until you pass by each other again, and the same thing happens, ahah. But can you think of a better alternative? It eludes me at the moment…
And then there’s the hilarious world of online communities. Xanga blogrings, friendster, livejournal friends lists, message boards. Funny how message boards run rampant with people commenting (and on occasion, flaming) left and right with people they don’t know anything about other than a username. The “safe” feeling of being just another name on that Internet, safe behind the shield of an IP address, or whatever. But it’s the “people meeting” sites that are the funniest, like friendster, yahoo personals, and a funny site that’s recently opened for UCI students only: ANTFriender (which has a grossly imbalanced male/female ratio, [881/487 – 64%/36%]). I find stuff like this the funniest, because people post up all kinds of trivia about themselves on there, complete with pictures, and what they're looking for in a person, etc. (I also fall victim to this, though my profile has silly stuff like “I can cook over-easy eggs” and a gallery picture of Bush/Cheney/Rice in a Star Wars satirical poster, as opposed to like, oh I dunno, DEEP stuff, haha). That’s not what the best part is, though. The best part is actually what doesn’t happen. I asked around, and not a single person I know has had any more than one or two total strangers at most send them a message with like a “what’s up” or something. I think it’s just funny that people sign up for these things, and perhaps subconsciously have a little bit of hope that there’s a tiny bit of a chance that you might meet someone special through it, yet they’d probably react to an invitation to coffee or lunch from a stranger like it was something creepy. This isn’t everyone, of course; just a predictable outcome.
I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. Anyways, be friendly, everybody :D
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Comments: Read 13 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, March 4th, 2004
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| Subject: | Somewhere I belong |
| Time: | 1:25 am. |
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Thanks in advance to Guillaume and Tony for contributing to this material.
I don’t know about everyone, but I think that most people, at one point or another, feel a sense of despondency about...well, life in general. During moments when my frustration is at its peak, I suppose I could sum it up into the following:
I'm at a school I don't care about, I'm in a major I don't care about, I'm writing about subjects I don't care about, if I graduate, I'm probably going to be nowhere, and this seems to be such a phenomenal waste of time. I work on the side to earn cash to buy a lot of things that I don’t need, it all seems so useless, a downwards spiral. I know I'm not a total brain-dead idiot, I know I'm not the lowest common denominator, I know I’m not the triumph of mediocrity or some crap, but what drives me insane is that sometimes I feel that I have no skills that will do anything for me if/when I graduate, and if I do, what then? It’s so mindless, I feel like I am getting nothing done here at times. I slack like crazy, do some reading the night before some papers are due, get a B average. I feel no satisfaction whatsoever. Even an A is small fulfillment. Sometimes I just want to drop out. I don't give a half a flying sack of rat’s ass about a piece of paper that says I graduated from this “higher level” educational facility. I want to find something I'm good at, find a job where I can capitalize on that, and make my living doing it. What I’m doing now is not rewarding at all. Like I just mentioned, getting an A on a midterm doesn't even do anything for me besides a "Yay, a small step up towards a destination that is NOTHING."
Yes, I hate uncertainty. There are moments when it is good to not know what’s going to happen and be surprised, and there are moments when you absolutely wish you were certain of things in the future. This is one of those moments. How great would it be if on your first of college, you got to sit down with some kind of counselor, were asked what you wanted to be, and were given an outline with every step you needed to take to do it? Just laid out waiting for you. Sadly, it doesn’t work that way, and at times like these, it makes me insane. However, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and it is not an oncoming train.
One might say that it’s unfortunate that college is a mandatory gateway to many opportunities, or at least the only obvious one. There is no definite path to life, it’s always a work in progress, always something we’re kind of making up as we go along. Life would be beyond awesome if you could do something you wanted during every waking moment of your life, but as we all find out, that’s not always how it works. The end of every day can’t always be the conclusion to great progress. Things have to be “put on hold.” Sacrifice something to get something better, until you can get to what’s worthwhile and rewarding to you. This, of course, is not motivation to have you sit on your ass and wait for a letter to fall from the sky saying “OK, now you’re in good times.” Half the job is starting it. Action is the name of the game. Productivity. Looking around, judging and measuring things, always keeping an open mind until something catches your attention, and then after you put countless hours of time and effort, and not getting any kind of satisfaction, you look somewhere else, and repeat that until you find what it is that you really want. Yes, it’s not exactly something that one can say “Sounds good, let’s do it” to and follow wholeheartedly right away. If anything, it’s difficult.
This is where management comes in. Anyone can spend their day sitting somewhere with no pressing matters at hand, no deadlines to meet, no current obligations. Sitting around, every action being performed an act of impulse. Eat a bag of chips. Turn on the TV and watch some rerun. And then there’s the alternative. If every waking moment of your day, the first thing on your mind was always “What’s the best thing for myself that I can do now?” Odds are, your life would be vastly better. Try your hardest to not have “nothing to do.” There’s always something to do, whether it’s catching up on some reading or working out. You just need to get past the laziness factor, or whatever the barrier is that is separating idleness from action in your life.
Not everyone becomes an MBA graduate, or a lawyer, or a doctor. But that’s nothing to be depressed about. Just going to a top 50 ranked college, hell, just going to a college at all, puts you way ahead of the majority of the people in society. Think of it as being smarter than most people in the workforce. But approaching age 20, the future still seems daunting. I’m not completely living what might commonly be called “real life.” This is the time where maturing happens. This is the time when we train ourselves to be ready to perform.
A lot of the time, I tell myself that all I ever wanted was job security, an income that nets enough to make me live very comfortably, buy my parents a house kind of as a thank you, and if I was lucky enough, find someone I could truly love, not because they were strikingly beautiful, or well-raised, or embodied grace and intelligence, but because they were just themselves, and the other attributes would simply fall into place. Someone to give a kiss goodnight before going to bed, someone who made me happy for reasons that didn’t need explaining. The whole “I love you not for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you” thing, or something like that. Whatever, I digress.
Many jobs out there provide the basics. But why be satisfied with mere basics when you can want more? Even if having an attitude of “I want more” can make you lose track of what you have, remember that people never came as far as they did today by just accepting what existed, and being satisfied with whatever. Our medicine is better than it was a hundred years ago. So are our cars. So are our buildings. It would be wrong to not appreciate what we have, and take a moment to look around us and be thankful for what’s in our lives, but we shouldn’t stop there, we shouldn’t stop wanting. There is a line that separates self-serving greed and passion, and I think that this kind of wanting is the latter.
Communications. It’s amazing how big of a role this plays. I am Taiwanese. Chinese might be an easier description in terms of ethnicity, but whatever. Some internet-direct company sells nothing but speakers that they buy directly from some manufacturer in China. The president of that company just needed one connection + the internet, and then the money starts rolling in. The people behind APEX had a few connections in China, commissioned a bunch of manufacturers to build DVD players and other electronics for low costs, and now the things are sold from Circuit City to Albertsons, which isn’t exactly known primarily for its TV sales.
Connections are everything. Getting them seems to be half the job. No one needs to get an MBA or an advanced economics degree to find out what people want. Taiwanese and Chinese manufacturers are all over the damn place wanting to break into the US. If you want a connection, odds are that there’s one that wants to connect with you that you just don’t know about. The Chinese thing is just arbitrary, since I don't know anything about Filipino, Vietnamese, Thai, Indian, and other ethnicities that perhaps don't fit this example.
And then there’s real estate. A friend of a friend interned at a real estate company, said the average salary there was six figures. Four Asian guys, only one knew how to speak a language besides English? Something like that. It’s just another example. There is no easy way to make serious money. You just gotta come up with some ideas, try them out, and with a little luck, end up with some success.
The core idea behind all of this, I suppose, is that one has to bide their time, be patient yet ready to leap, and be well rounded. Right now, at this time, is when the little things matter. If you find yourself sitting without anything to do, find something that contributes to that well-roundedness. Catch up on that reading. Call a friend you haven’t heard from in a while. Visit someone. Do some push-ups. Anything that isn’t just killing time for no purpose. Avoid being the sloth with nothing to do. Self-betterness is a necessity, not something to pursue in spare time. Idleness now will hurt you later.
Guillaume has a neat little analogy about managing one’s time and seizing the moment when it comes. It goes something like this:
“That way I see it, life is a sinking ship with no lifeboats. We’re all people who can’t swim, and some are getting drunk and falling over the rails. Others are jumping over, while still others are sitting and bitching and moaning as the ship goes down. But me? I’ve decided I’m going to look for a guitar on this ship so I can wail out on it like a fucking ninja until I’m sinking into the black oblivion beyond. Who says I know what this guitar looks like? Who says I know what it’s even supposed to sound like? I don’t. But I bet I will when I find it.” Nice.
Some brains. Some luck. Some prioritization. Some focus. Desire, discipline, dedication. This seems to be the tried and true way to get anywhere in life, instead of just meandering about waiting for a miracle to happen. Now is a time good as any to give it a shot. Screw the hopeless romantic crap for now. Love, unless it falls from the sky on a silver platter in all perfection, will have to wait. Or at least I can try to convince myself of that.
Success has no definite explanation. Some see it as wealth and riches; others see it as having a family, or social power, whatever. Me? I’m not there yet, but I’m working on the description, and hopefully one day I’ll have my own. Until then, I’ll find purpose between sitting in lectures, attending discussions, writing papers, making next quarter's schedule, and valeting your car. Six dollars, please.
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, February 23rd, 2004
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| Subject: | A Post-Valentine's Day Reflection |
| Time: | 3:01 am. |
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It’s always the rainy days that get me.
After seeing countless movies, sitcoms, and even cartoons, I can safely say that I somehow was raised thinking that in the world we live in, it’s the nice guy, the third-party observer, the listener, the one who isn’t the asshole that wins.
This is a lie. This is a lie that was constructed by deserving people who just happened to not have enough guts, and it has somehow permeated its way into our society through fairy tale endings and season finales where all the right things happen at the right time.
High school was an interesting time, because (usually) your peers were a variety of just about everything. From the cream of the crop to the cream of the crap, you had it all. There were the smart ones whose athletic ability rivaled their GPA, and had the personality to match. There were the tools that got together at lunch and stood in a circle, looking like a council of homos discussing who had a better imaginary car, but were actually discussing nothing, because they thought they were cool enough to just stand around looking hip in the clothes they bought using saved lunch money their parents gave them. There were some jocks who thought they were God’s gift to the world because they could play a sport well, yet were far too stupid to realize that they sucked too much to play it for a living, and by neglecting everything except the sport, are now punching in credit for 20 dollars on pump number five. Full time.
And of course, there was a girl. Not the girl-next-door, really hot one that all the guys talked about in the locker room, but the sweet, classy, beautiful-in-her-own-way girl whose unspeaking presence could make you happy, for reasons you couldn’t even explain. You couldn’t give half a damn whether she wore a dazzling outfit or the clothes she went to bed in, and while the teacher talked about stoic male characters like Atticus Finch was in To Kill a Mockingbird, you were daydreaming about a pair of bright eyes and a smile.
It was a sad day in your life when you found out she had started seeing some guy, and depending on whoever this story is about, you were either incensed that it was some dead-brained, immature idiot who had somehow asked her out and had amazingly gotten a positive response, or you were disappointed that it was someone that was smarter and more charming than you.
What the hell, it doesn’t have to be just high school. These things don’t change. Now, it’s driving on the freeway towards a destination you don’t really care about, the staccato of the rain on your windshield making you imagine stepping together over puddles while sharing an umbrella, or splashing through the puddles without one. Drying each other’s faces with a soft towel, and sharing a cup of soup on the couch afterwards. Whatever. She’s the perfect one that you probably couldn’t have engineered if you were God himself. Not the supermodel-perfect one, or the stunning, airbrushed movie star. The one wearing the comfortable sweater and jeans, with the loose strands of hair that you reach over and tuck behind her ear.
You’re the one that has been waiting for something special, rather than just something that teenagers do, or a trophy figure to boost your ego. You’re the one who would rather save a first kiss for a meaningful one rather than a drunk, backroom make-out session at Thursday night’s party. You’re the one whose heart feels compressed like a vice when you finally lay down alone in bed at some forgotten hour of the night.
You’re the one that was too afraid to ever ask a few ridiculously simple words because you either didn’t want potentially ruin something good, or make awkward something that wasn’t. Or whatever. But you kept hoping that by some strange twist of fate, one day things would go your way. And that somehow kept you going.
Recently, Jon wrote something that people probably have all thought about at one time or another – a reset button to life. If everything was going to shambles around you, bitterness was the operating word of the day, and felt like you’d rather die than shed another tear, wouldn’t it be crazy if we had a reset button? “How awesome does it sound to just move somewhere and start all over? You could be any way you wanted; you could make people think you were someone completely different with a totally different personality. You could dress different, talk different, and nobody would have any clue that it wasn't really you.” But would you give up everything you were, everything you had, to hopefully get what you didn’t? I’d thought about something like this for a long time, and my conclusion was always a firm HELL NO. I can always complain about what’s wrong in my life, but I’d be the prevalent liar of the human race if I said I would willingly give up everything I’ve worked so hard to create for a mere chance at something different. I quote myself (3/12/03 lj): “But damn me if I'm wrong, we each excel in our own little ways, and even if you wished that you were someone or anyone else, damn you if you would even remotely consider for an instant to go through with that wish if it were possible to be granted.”
I recently read a poem that 2pac wrote a while ago:
All of my life
I dreamed of meeting one
with immense beauty,
and once I found her
I would charm her
and she'd be mine forever
I have found her
and indeed she is all I wished for and more
but she is not charmed nor intrigued.
Then I think 2 myself "What can I offer her?"
The tears warm my eyes and blur my vision.
I stick 2 my stance of bravado
and give her the same uninterested look she gave me.
She was so beautiful
But what can I offer her.
Being a gangsta rapper who undoubtedly had relationships with multiple women that were likely consummated by something less than noble intent, he doesn’t get a large dose of my respect, since I have a general distaste for players, womanizers, and the like. The poem, however, taken in context as just fifteen lines of text, was a cold dose of reality to me, and probably to countless others.
Have you ever had a dream that you never wanted to wake up from, where every awkward thing you never even attempted to say became nonexistent? When all the words that you say in someone’s presence become what you meant, instead of something retarded like responding with laughter to something that wasn’t meant to be funny? That stupid feeling akin to freezing in shock, and getting cotton in your mouth. Yeah, a month full of nightmares is worth it for one dream like that. And a lifetime’s worth of nightmares is worth it for a reality like that. But if reality was like that, you probably wouldn’t have nightmares. Or for that matter, a wish for a dream like that, either.
Mere moments ago (ironically), I was linked to an article in the Massachusetts Daily Collegian that was written by an author that probably is in the same (albeit more frustrated) boat as me. What’s that, you ask? Oh, I don’t know, I guess I can call it the U.S.S. Uninvited Solitude. A few lines that struck me most were: “Sure, she's pretty, but it's about more than that. You two connect. Anything you throw at her, she can throw right back. You figured out what's going on in that predictable head of hers in under five minutes, but something tells you her heart would take about five years.” Isn’t that something? Key words being “it’s about more than that.” Behind the smile, the hair, the amused laugh. Sure, humans are animals just like every other living thing on this earth, but who says we can’t raise the bar of what’s pretty damn important? I swear, if everyone in the world shared this viewpoint with me, divorce would become a myth. Either that, or there’d be something like six billion single people, hahaha.
I recently saw a quote by Gandhi somewhere, and it said something like “Happiness is when what you say, think, and do work as one,” or something like that. To some of my (and before that, Alex’s) readers from a while ago, this is just a fancy way of saying “Stand and be true,” right? And it takes maturity to do so. It’s so often, if not always, about maturity. Well, at least in the case of relationships, yeah?
You know what? To hell with what I wrote earlier about living in the shadow of the guy who is comparable to the lowest common denominator, and the tragedy of being the guy who only gets to watch and listen. To hell with everything that anyone has ever said about the overused “Nice Guys Finish Last” crap. And to hell with ever being even remotely depressed over dreams that never became realities. Finish last, huh? I don’t believe that February 23, 2004 is anywhere near the finish for me, or anyone who has had the patience to read all the way up to this sentence. Today is nowhere near the end. I believe that underneath my spontaneous sarcasm, pride, and indifference, there is a good guy somewhere, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to reach that finish line someday in last place. Is there a single word to describe love in one’s life? Hell no. This life we live and these individual dreams we have are way too big for one word. Live to love, love to live, and one day it’ll all make sense. Either that, or it won’t need to.
Happy belated Single’s Awareness Day to you all, and good night.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, January 30th, 2004
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| Subject: | Objects in mirror are closer than they appear |
| Time: | 5:59 am. |
| Mood: | insomniac. | | Music: | voom...voom voom. |
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What am I doing, it’s 6:30 on Thursday morning, and I just spent the night idling away, reading cnn, espn soccernet, firingsquad, somethingawful, and pretty much anything to keep me from writing a paper that shouldn’t take me any more than twenty minutes. Now that I’ve finished the paper, I’m determined not to let my night end on writing something for school. So here is something…for me. And no, the title/subject has no relevance to this entry. It just sounds cool.
I came to an awareness, rather recently in fact, that I had fallen in love.
Wait, I’ll go about this differently. If I were asked to give a list of things I liked about this person, I’d probably say something like, “Assertive. Perhaps overly so. Finds extreme importance in the existence of friends. Keeps a small circle of close-knit friends. Knows others well, and maybe at times better than they know themselves. Finds life’s pleasures in little packages, and sometimes forgets to look at things in the long run, the bigger picture, the grand scale. At times, finds it difficult to commit to people, friends in particular. Is competent in most areas where the choice is made to give effort. Unlike many peers, knows almost exactly the things in life wanted in five, ten, twenty years to come, but is still working on the means to do so. Wants something, is searching for something that has not yet presented itself.”
The person mentioned above, if you haven’t realized yet, is none other than MYSELF. Seriously, there are times when I think the world does nothing but directly affect me, and me only. Stupid little things. Example: my roommate says, “Hey, I’m leaving early this weekend.” My first thought? No, it’s not “Oh, where and why is this guy going,” or “Who’s going with him?” It’s something along the lines of “Hmm, ok, this means I can expect this and this to be different, and I’ll have the room to myself” or something like that. Ok CRAPPY example, here’s a different one. I get stiffed at work (naturally), and I proceed to walk back to the booth in a vengeful mood, cursing out the cheap bastard and generally showing a lack of professionalism while showing disrespect to my coworkers. Yeah, it’s about me. One time I told my mom that I’d go home for dinner with her on a Sunday night, and as I was about to leave my parking space, I called her again and asked if I really needed to go because I’d probably find no parking when I got back. I heard a kind of disappointed, “Oh, that’s okay, you don’t have to come back, bye” on the other end, took about two steps away from my car back towards my apartment, and stopped, thinking, "What the hell am I doing?" I was flaking out on my mom (who had anticipated our meal since the day before) over a parking stall. So I called her right back, told her I was coming, and had a nice dinner with my mom. That time it started off all about me, until I caught myself. But there are times I don’t catch myself, and those are the worst, because by doing so, I don’t see the bigger picture. Again. Hell, I’ve probably pissed off a few of my friends without even knowing it. I guess this is what one might call arrogance…
*sidenote – Here I fell asleep while writing, and woke up, barely in time for class. A day and night later (since it’s freakin 5 in the morning now), I continue. With no inspiration. Just a desire to finish what I started. ANYWAYS…*
A friend of mine once wrote that he found himself valuing intelligence over hard work. I have to say that I am the same. I am automatically somewhat turned off (I use this with the most non-sexual intent, given the more common interpretation of the colloquialism relating to arousal and such) by people I can’t have a conversation with in sentences that last longer than a few words. If I had to pick who I admired more between a guy who is a natural genius and aced every test he ever took, compared to someone who worked his ass off to study and read a book three times to understand something the first guy only had to read once, etc., I’d probably say the first. Having said that, it would seem I’m an elitist bastard, which would be stupid if I were because I’m a second year college student who doesn’t have academic scholarships, a family legacy, ties with political figures, and goes to UCI. Not exactly what you’d call elite. But now I’m just going off on things. By saying that I value intelligence over hard work and effort, I am automatically saying I side with the intelligentsia, of which I am probably not a member. Maybe I think this way because I’ve been reading John Locke, and his audience was intended to be none other than the elite of a society. Whatever, this wasn’t a huge point regarding what I was trying to get at when I started writing this.
I always thought it was common knowledge that the only way to make friends is to be one, and I try not to lose sight of that, but like everyone, I’m victim to being given lasting first impressions. What was that statistic about first impressions, that they last three to four months? These impressions sometimes lead me to conduct nothing short of an extended behavioral analysis before I can see them as people I would call friend. Consequently, the core group of people I am closest to is small, but in my opinion, worth more than money, riches, fame, power, whatever.
Anyways, faith – the substance of things hoped for in the evidence of things not seen? Faith in people. Faith that my friends, whose company I enjoy more than most things on this earth, have faith in me. Me, who unconsciously tries to figure out what someone really wants when I hear them speak, and stuff like that. Why do I suddenly speak about faith out of nowhere? Because no bonds are made without trust. I trust that my friends won’t say one thing to my face and talk trash about the same behind my back. I trust that they wouldn’t use me for just a ride here, company for no other than reason than boredom there, counsel for a relationship gone screwy when the occasion arises. If I had a diary or journal that I kept my most private thoughts in so I could look back years later for the purpose of seeing if I had grown, I would not expect a friend to examine it if they inadvertently stumbled onto it. If I told someone I trusted that there was something in the world I hated that everyone else loved, I wouldn’t expect them to tell anyone else because of nothing other than mutually understood maturity and respect.
One of my favorite little stories is one that I heard on The West Wing:
“This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out. A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, "Hey you, can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up, "Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?" and the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here." The friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out."
I mention this story because I don’t claim to know the answers to all the social problems of someone in their teens and twenties, and I can’t always give a reasonable explanation to why a certain person acted a certain way, or what someone really means when they say something that you suspect is masking a true intent. I can say that I have been through a lot of moments where I had to make some serious decisions to where to stand in terms of life, school, relationships, etc. Moments regarding what, you ask? My stance on love, of course, and perhaps where I stand with that good old Confucian perspective of filial piety. But really, I’d do nothing short of, oh, I don’t know, drive a friend across the country if the need happened to be there. I like to follow the whole idea of “I’m here for you, either if you need me or you don't." No matter how up or down you feel, or how much darkness seems to envelop your life at times, I'm here, and I promise I'll talk about anything and everything without prejudice. Bluntly, if needed. A true friend will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear, right?
It’s not a new year anymore, guys. Cheers to anyone who kept their resolutions, I suppose. I’m rather happy with myself. I no longer see a night of not working as a loss of money. You can’t put a price on time spent with people whose company you take pleasure in. “Time wasted that you enjoyed, wasn’t wasted,” was it? Of course.
Random memory: “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if the cure for cancer was a drug?” – Dumbass comment made by some junior high chick from Philadelphia during my summer ’02 France trip. I think her name was Britney, ironically. That was also the same trip where I told Stan to eat his vegetables, to which he retorted, “Shut up, my colon is fine!”
Love yourself, but don’t limit it to just that. Cheers, to this funny story we call life.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, January 16th, 2004
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| Subject: | Musings after a Caterpillar Roll |
| Time: | 4:20 am. |
| Mood: | reasonable. | | Music: | computer fans.... |
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So my winter of Tahoe-ing, group drinking, and nights of throwing caution to the wind has come and gone. My love/hate relationship with this place known as UCI goes on. I love it because there are so many people in my classes that either don't care or just plain don't do well enough so I can get Bs with no serious efforts. I hate it because...well, for the same reason most people dislike school, I suppose. Tests here, a paper there, a boring lecture here, expensive course books there. And of course, the dread of going to sleep knowing you won't be as rested as you like because as the day's classes end, the next day's come nearer.
However, as I sit here, with my ridiculously comfortable slippers on my feet, a pillow on my lap, and my body in an office chair tilted back at a lazy angle, a nagging thought surfaces to the top of my mind. Somewhere between seeing the zillion yellow papers next to screen names and hearing nothing but the soft hum of computer fans in my apartment, I had a stray thought about what about myself did I see as the most flawed. No, it's not my whole love-is-such-a-sacred-thing-that-I-probably-won't-ever-find-it-no-matter-wtf-happens concept. That's still hovering around.
It is GREED.
Not much longer than a year ago, I was unemployed. Sure, I had done the summer jobs at an office and odd tutoring here and there to make a few bills, but for the most part, I lived at home, ate food out of the fridge and kitchen cabinet, and spent...very little. I hardly ever asked my parents for money because I felt like I would owe them more than I already do for all the crap I got to put them through for so many years.
Now I sit here, in my last year of teenage life, and I am, in many ways, deserving of being frowned upon. Somewhere in the last year, I developed a yearning for money that has become something insatiable. If I give a "no" answer to something, that answer could become a "yes" for the right price. Even something retarded like a dollar or two for doing some stupid favor. I unconsciously put price tags on things. I begin calculating approximately how many hours I would need to work if I see something I want to buy that costs more than a few lunches and dinners. Someone loses out on, say, sixty bucks, and I immediately think about the number of hours of work that would be needed to get it back. I look at the expenses log on my computer, and I try to calculate how much money I need to make on the weekend at the rate I'm spending, and have some left over to add to the surplus.
The worst part is, my job does more than what I might have expected it to, which is to pay for my expenses here and there. The larger my bank account gets, the more extravagant my materialistic desires increase. I see my job as a gold mine for helping to provide me with spending cash, yet the irony is that while it is a somewhat above average-paying job for a college student going to UCI, the gross income is still far below what a professional makes. I'm not really professional at anything, besides maybe putting together a hotpot or being maximum housewife or backing up a vehicle into a parking stall, but that's why I'm here at school, isn't it? Put myself through a few years of crap so that at the end, I can have a competence stamp of "you're not a dumbass" known as a college diploma?
My problem is that I can't look far ahead beyond a few years unless I plop my ass down and seriously think about it. My motivation revolves around seeing a hot deal on an internet forum, considering the cost, and in many cases, buying it. Or sometimes it's not even a hot deal. Like a 15 speed percussion massager. EXCESSIVE. I get all my kicks out of buying random crap for myself, some things more useful than others. If I have a good weekend at work, I'm happy, but never look at the bigger picture...like, my mom makes more money in a day at work than I do over the entire weekend. But that's so different. She pays mortgage, bills, my tuition (which is going higher and higher every goddam quarter, thank you California overspending), and a ton of other things I am most likely unaware of. One day I'll have to do the same thing. But I can't look past the few bucks I get tipped for bringing up a car. I can't look past making enough money in one day to buy myself a computer upgrade. I can't look past the absurdity of being caught up in the moment with a temporary happiness from depositing a paycheck.
It doesn't have to be this way. I could go to work and treat it like anything else I need to do during the day. I can't. I derive some sort of pleasure by knowing that a little bit of money is going into my pocket every minute that passes by. I know that when I go to work this weekend, I'm probably going to unconsciously shift into this money-reaping state of mind, and a few hours after I get home I will sit in silence, out of my little "zone," if you will, and realize that it happened all over again.
I mentioned sometime in the past that if I ever got lost in a moment, all I need to do is think about where I would be in a few years, months, weeks, or even a few hours later, and what the significance of the moment would be. In many cases, the significance would be slim and none. This is made profoundly clear to me when I look back at stupid things, like some customer stiffing me at work, or how I forgot something at my house after I've driven ten miles away from it. When I look back later, I'm not going to care that some random person didn't give me some money for running to his car. I'm not going to care how I lost ten minutes of time I'd spend messing around with my roommates by having to go back home to get something. What seems like a big deal now has a good chance of being insignificant later. I suppose what needs to be worked on is properly deciding what to spend worthwhile attention and effort to when the opportunity arises.
"Procrastination: Hard work often pays off after time, but laziness always pays off now." This is inscribed on a poster hanging on my bedroom wall. It hits so close to home, though perhaps with more meaning to my shortsightedness than flat out laziness, in this case. Laziness paying off now doesn't get rid of potentially disastrous things that could happen in the future if no usefulness or productivity is done. Yet another lesson that is easier mentioned than taking to heart.
I suppose the one positive thing I gleaned from this money-fixation is I know where my money goes, in and out, and I have managed it somewhat intelligently enough to pay for all my silly little expenses and have a substantial amount left over. I now tip quite...extravagantly if the service is satisfactory or above. I have become quite un-Asian in terms of my willingness to not be a shrew with my money, whether at a restaurant or something random like buying a gift for a friend. As much as I find any sense of accomplishment for this, it can't possibly in any way justify the way my mind becomes clouded with greed when the occasion presents itself. It's definitely a work in progress.
Other stray thoughts about self flaws that crossed my mind included a certain wave of arrogance that I can sometimes feel myself exerting, and my temper having a short fuse with stupid things like a nagging call from my mom or a dissatisfactory night on the job. The greed issue, however, was quite prevalent. Tonight, anyways.
My belated New Year's Resolution, if I want to call it that: looking far ahead may make me lose sight of the present, but being gripped by the present will handicap my ability to lay a foundation for the future. Hmm, that's not a resolution, is it?
Fine - to find a sense of contentment and wean myself off this unnatural greed. And of course, to make some more good friends.
Cheers, to each year being spent better than the last.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, December 23rd, 2003
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| Subject: | Orange Gold, Sunsets Bold, Star Filled Nights |
| Time: | 12:14 pm. |
| Mood: | Complacent. | | Music: | Good stuff. |
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The year is ending. Time for some commentary on...ah, why not, religion, war, and of course, love. Just a little bit this time, I promise.
I just had a very lengthy talk with my mom about religion tonight, and after speaking with (and perhaps disturbing) her, I think I can put into words what religion means to me.
I believe that there is a god. I believe that some people do the right things in the name of god. They also do the wrong things as well.
I totally wish for world peace. If every resource in the last ten years that was spent by any nation on the planet for weapons/military/war/etc. was put to causes such as medical research, or health care, or some type of natural preservation, or any kind of constructive purpose that didn't involve researching more efficient and powerful ways to kill people, the world would probably be a much better place to live than it is today.
I suppose religion factors into this because so much of the pain and death in the world has much to do with religions themselves. People die every day in the middle east because of their religious differences. When our great country of America goes to wage war in Afghanistan and Iraq in the name of god and freedom, our soldiers are sent with their chaplains and spiritual guides to remind them that god is on their side as they fire round after round of ammunition into the bodies of their fellow humans.
Imagine, if you will, two soldiers of different religions, take your pick. They are on separate sides of a battle, and find themselves isolated from the main bulk of their respective platoons. They run out of ammunition, and resort to physical combat. After a grueling match of exchanged blows, one smashes the other's head down and emerges the victor. Before he returns to his unit, he checks the pockets of his defeated adversary. He finds a picture with two smiling children and a woman, and the picture is tied to a ribbon that has "We love you," embroidered in lace. This man is just like he is: father, husband, lover. He died because someone that had power in society gave him an order, and he died following it. Very likely, the person that gave him the order at the top of the command pyramid prayed to their god for victory, while the opposing side does the same. So, can religious wars just be about people arguing over whose fake god is better?
The point of that last paragraph, I suppose, is that there are no winners in war. There are spoils, but there are no winners. Somewhere in the homeland of the victorious side, a mother awaits her son to return from war. She learns that her country has been victorious, and her son took a shot through the heart and lost his life. Will telling her that his side was the victor be any consolation at all? How is her life better by losing her son to a metal projectile in a land away from home? What do you tell the four year old child about his father that died from accidental friendly fire somewhere thousands of miles away? That the father figure he should have had would never come to be due to an accident while he was out "serving his country?"
I am not an anti war fanatic. I do believe that sometimes, war is necessary. There are always inherently bad people in the world that commit acts that do nothing but make their fellow humans suffer. As long as there are twisted people in the world, there will never be peace. World peace is an unattainable dream just because of human nature itself. Someone will always be around to screw it up.
Something that so many people, conservatives in particular, seem to love to do is put up a wall in front of themselves and never even consider another point of view. Everyone that doesn't agree with them is either branded a liberal, or evil, or renegade, or someone who needs "saving," or whatever. It's kind of pathetic really. Some honestly believe that every Muslim in the world is evil and serves no greater purpose than to kill and terrorize. Come on, if I went out and committed various acts of terrorism that resulted in the deaths of thousands of innocent civilian lives, and yelled out "For America!" every time I did so, would you truly believe that I was doing so for the good of my country, or that I was just messed up in the head? Same with all these extremists that run around bombing and suiciding and murdering in the name of Allah. There are many good people in the world, and there are many that fall quite short of good. Don't be so quick to hate and point fingers, and if you still do, try to actually find the right thing to point that finger of yours at. Those Columbine kids went and shot up their school, and Marilyn Manson was blamed because the kids listened to his music. Everyone wanted a scapegoat, and they singled him out. Whatever happened to just growing up in a world that didn't seem to go your way, or parents that didn't support you, or peers that didn't like you, or just being plain sick in the head? I hate those self-righteous, holier-than-thou people.
I never answered what religion is to me. I have come to think of religions as guidelines. People seek religions to fill gaps in their lives. Religions are there for the purpose of self betterment. A person doesn't need a church to become closer to god, but the point is to go and meet other people who are trying to develop themselves into a better person. Too often this objective is lost, and people go to church and are empty while thinking they are accelerating their spiritual growth. I guess the bottom line is that if you are mature enough to see the flaws in your own character, and you honestly believe that a certain scripture can be read by you and understood and applied to your life for the purpose of improvement of self, religion may be an answer.
It's that time of year. Couples snug in their winter wear, walking together wherever with linked arms and content smiles. Kisses given at doorsteps. Whispering softly into each other's ears. At the very least, some temporary bliss where two people are in a moment, and nothing else matters in the world.
It's that time of year. Angry drivers scream their fury at pedestrians, other drivers, and orange cones that block their way to a certain parking route. People form in ungodly long lines in retail stores, and are incensed by someone who tries to cut in line. Debt is developed because some people use the "season" as an excuse to buy things that they don't have means of paying for. Valets get dirty looks because their parking lots have open spaces. Tis the season indeed.
It's that time of year. I sat in this char, at this desk, staring at this screen, typing on this same keyboard a while back, wondering where I was going in life. I still don't really know. It's hard to go in a definite direction when you don't know what you really want. A job? More friends? Someone who is as crazy about you as you are for them? A pair of lips to meet yours as a new year begins and this one closes? Knowing that the only better feeling than being completely smitten by a person is finding out that they're just as in love with you? I don't have any answers, maybe because I don't try to find them very hard, or perhaps I don't even ask myself the questions enough.
It's that time of year. The circle of friends that I keep is ever evolving. A few seem to begin to fade away. A few become unexpectedly closer. A few stay the same. And I am glad for it.
Lyrics of the year:
Badness is what you demonstrate, and that's exactly how anger works and operates, you gotta have love just to set it straight - Black Eyed Peas
There's gotta be more to life...than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me - Stacie Orrico
Soft white lights between us falling, forming into precious flowers, chartreuse - Goapele
My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me, so won't you kill me, so I die happy - Dashboard Confessional
God is a Dj, life is a dancefloor, love is the rhythm, you are the music - Pink
After months of school, weekends at work, late night meals with friends, daydreaming, and a trip to norcal, my year comes to a close. The liquor bottles are in the recycling bin, the cigarettes are extinguished on the ground, the food packaging is in the dumpster, and the memories are in .jpeg form on harddrives. Cheers.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Saturday, November 22nd, 2003
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| Subject: | Old topics, revisited |
| Time: | 9:00 am. |
| Mood: |  complacent. | | Music: | Blink 182 - Feeling This (ironic, I know). |
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I was talking to someone about friends the other day, and the subject happened to shift to that of "close friends," and how it's difficult to find them.
People are funny. No matter how well you think you know someone, you can always be taken aback by some random thing. If you think about it, you don't know anything about a person except what they decide to show you (whether willingly or not). One can know someone for years, and never see anything besides what may be just an act.
One thing that never ceases to amaze me is the amount of drama people have in their lives. A jealous boyfriend here. Someone trash talking someone there. People cheating on each other here (I'll save that for later). It's crazy how making some noises in our vocal cords and projecting them into hearing range can cause other people to react in hostile, and sometimes volatile, ways. Some people live for drama. If their lives didn't involve gossip about who said what to whom, who did this behind someone's back, who's seeing who without someone knowing, they'd collapse into boredom. What is it about living vicariously through different people that appeals to people so much? Take the ever-popular show "Friends," for instance. These people are not real. The characters that exist in this sitcom do not really exist. They are rehearsed lines behind said by actors that are paid a lot of money to portray people they are not. Nevertheless, I'll bet that there are thousands of people that can tell you the personality types of Rachel, Joey, Chandler, etc. Do people get so bored with their own lives that they have to watch the fictitious happenings of some people to find fun in life? I'll be the first to admit that the only thing more fun than watching people is to watch people that are watching other people, which so many television shows are chock-full of. Anyways, I'm not a drama person. I think the most drama that developed in my life in the past few months couldn't have been more earth-shattering than having a roommate (now ex-roommate) that would use your dishes/utensils/cooking materials/etc, leave them in the sink after using them, and blasting ridiculously loud music when everyone else in the apt. was sleeping. Well, his contract expired, so much for that. Er, tangent.
What are friends? People that you can open up to. When's the last time you went up to someone and told them about what you felt was missing in your life, or how you felt a certain way about another person but nobody knew and it was killing you inside, or how much something was aggravating you and all it did was build up and make you angry, hurt, bitter, disappointed? When is the last time you wished you even had someone to say those things to? When is the last time you sat by yourself somewhere, and found yourself wondering why there seemed to be something missing in your life, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was, and the fact that the hole is there and you can't fill it drives you mad? Friends fill that hole.
No matter how confident someone says they are in himself, or how brilliant someone may be, or how funny, or unique, they aren't shit without their friends. What's the point of being a genius if you don't have anyone close to you to share your brilliance with? What's the point of being funny if there weren't people there that you could feel happy about making them smile? How depressing would it be to not have people to share your happy and sad times with? I mentioned in a post a long time ago that there's no better investment in life than people. How many things in life bring more pleasure than smiling at someone and seeing them smile back?
Friends go beyond that. They're the people that can intuitively see the distress in you when others only see your smile. The ones you open up to without worrying about what they'll think of you afterwards. It may take guts to tell someone what you don't tell anyone else, but it also takes guts for that someone to stay by you even with your differences. I guess there's gotta be love there.
Love again (that "special" kind). I always come back to this topic, and I usually fail to accurately describe it. Communicating with someone without needing to speak a word. Smiling when you're alone because you know someone is doing the same, waiting to see you. Being filled with a sense of happiness after waking up from a nightmare because you see them. Feeling the emotional equivalent of splashing cold water on your face during a hot summer day. Not wanting to go to sleep to escape reality, because nothing in your dreams could be better than waking up to someone. When the imperfect becomes perfection. Friendship gone ablaze. Being happy with someone for years after the physical beauty fades. Love is not love until you exchange it with someone else. A feeling that's better than finding out you scored an A on the final of your hardest class. Letting someone have the first and the last bite. Knowing that even though you might not be written down in history as someone who changed the world, the only thing that matters is that you changed the world of one person. A cloak over your shoulders to keep you warm on a frosty night. Knowing that someone sees you as a priority, not an option. Maturity. A kiss.
After considering all that, how can people cheat on each other? Is a relationship with someone so fickle? In the case of those one night stands, is it worth throwing away so much for something so short and temporary? I'll never understand how people can betray each other's trust by doing such rash things. Are some people just stupid? Silly question, I suppose.
Back to love. Love is ridiculous. It makes people do stupid things. It makes ordinarily cool-minded people lose their stability. I feel like making fun of males. No one in particular, just types.
1. the incredibly infatuated one. The one that will drive you to Florida if you said the word. The one that will cook you dinner, do your homework, wake himself up to give you a wakeup call when he's slept for two hours because you asked him to.
2. the romantic one. He writes you poems and buys you flowers and likes to do nothing more than whisper into your ear about how he can't stand a moment without you. The one that would make Shakespeare roll over in his grave.
3. the rich one. He will buy you anything your heart desires. He has a cool car, wears nothing but designer labels, and essentially buys your love. Which in turn, leaves you wanting something more than dinner at the Ritz and a Louis-Vitton leather bag for your birthday. Unless you're really shallow.
4. the genius. Damn, this guy is so smart. He is on the dean's list every quarter, can write analysis that you could only dream of, and has long conversations with you all the time deep into the middle of the night, and totally leaves you in awe, until you realize that it's all worthless because he's an arrogant ass who think he's god's gift to the world that that you should be the one that feels lucky to have him.
Ok, so those aren't the only types, but they're all over the damn place. Of course there's no optimal type (I think), but then, my job here is to make fun of them, not decide what's right and what's wrong.
Whatever happened to decency? These days, everyone just wants to fuck. It's all anyone thinks about. At work, when we see a guy pull up in a flashy ride with some hot blonde chick, someone will invariably make a comment along the likes of "there's action happening between those two tonight." The most funny (and somewhat pathetic) thing to see is someone take someone out, buy an expensive dinner, be a pretentious dumbass, and then expect some "sugah sugah" in return. Sometimes it works (which is more pathetic than the former). Lots of relationships these days are held together by sex. Seriously, sex is the only thinking keeping two people together, sometimes to the point where one feels obligated to do so for the sake of keeping it going. Wtfhax is that?
Whatever. The divorce rate is like over 50%. Post-marriage settlements ruin people's lives, both financially and emotionally. I see paper-thin relationships that are pretty much dancing on thin ice. All over the place. I know people that go around wishing they had a significant other, yet have no idea what they want besides "someone hot" that are nice, will take care of them, make them feel good about themselves. Your classic give-take relationship. You know, the kind where one gives and one takes, as opposed to give-give. Give-take is the path to self destruction. Take-take is self destruction. Give-give, while perhaps not having a 100% success rate, is (I believe) a hell of a lot better way to go about things. Then again, I am a cynical male in his last teenage year, has never had what he would call a real relationship, has never pursued one, and as far as he's concerned, has lost almost all faith in the human race, with the exception of a few people he loves to death, though he never says it directly.
You might say the last few pages are the equivalent of a biology student trying to explain the inner workings of government to a political science professor. So what. Anyone can rebuke me. I'm not saying I'm right. Am I just hating on everyone, or do I sound like I'm just bitter? I don't think I'm bitter, since I don't have like a bone to pick with the world or anything. No one's a virgin, because life screws us all? What's the point of it all?
I started all of this with talking about friends. There isn't much else worth living for, or with, for that matter. People who you're comfortable with when the only sound is silence. People you don't have to worry about impressing. When you're not afraid of saying the wrong thing. When you don't feel obligated to act a certain way. People you love.
Yeah, that's all I have to post for the last eight months. I think the only positive step I've made in my life is that hardly anything pisses me off right now. Those few exclusive things include in no particular order: Computer hardware/software problems. Shady people. Not getting tipped at work for pulling up a car. Doing badly at something I know I'm proficient at. Sitting at the end of a lecture, feeling like I learned nothing and wasted a lot of time. UCI parking tickets. I honestly can't think of much else that would get me to the point of cursing with disgust. I can't remember the last time I screamed out of frustration. I feel like I've grown, somewhat. And that's kinda cool, I suppose.
Happy Thanksgiving. It's so bright outside...time to sleep.
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Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, March 12th, 2003
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| Subject: | Life, or something like it. |
| Time: | 5:35 am. |
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I learned long ago that all the "your parents love you and want the very best for you and no matter what you must see them as benevolent well-wishers" lessons that I learned from pastors, youth leaders, "Christians," aren't all they're cut out to be. I mean, for a while I would try to figure out why my dad would cut short every argument I won with "go vacuum the carpet" or my mom would end any logical argument I presented with "Oh well, I'm your mother, my word stands," but sooner or later you realize that just because you're their wonderful offspring, you're not exempt from their nature, e.g. NY times bestseller, cake, gift card, a certain restaurant, (in Alex's case). Anyways, I stopped taking seriously most of the things the parents say, do, or wish me to do these days. It goes a long way in my continuing pursuit of the "stress is not in my vocabulary" lifestyle that I've been trying oh so hard to maintain since Sept. 2002, and it's actually working out quite well.
As a friend reminded me: we used to be such good kids. Look at him, raised in a "respectable" family, spent 17 years growing up at church with good responsible leaders that provide good role models, read his bible, took leadership positions, led group activities, found favor in the eyes of so and so. "He'll be such a great example for people in the future!" Sound familiar? But of course. But alas, inevitably, what happened? We awoke from that dreamland. Or perhaps, we died in a way, and have fallen, rather than awakened. Shit, if this is fallen, then being up there sure isn't all it's cut out to be, because at least down here we...keep it real, mmm?
What now? Drink? Yes. Excessively? In "moderation." Smoke? Errrr. Ditch class? Yes. Sex? Nope, I guess I'm not electric enough. Cynical, sarcastic tendencies? Most definitely. I don't know about you, but I'm sure you do at least ONE of these things...ah yes, we used to be such good kids. And the scary thing is, we still ARE, compared to a lot of people out there.
The parents' trying to buy our love is understandable. They grew up in Taiwan (mine, anyways, and a lot of my friends') under quite different circumstances. It's different over there, I suppose. Too bad it's always around when the kid either grows up, makes a name for himself, or is something worthy to be proud of that the dad realizes that he spent 18 years missing out on something. Or 21, heh. Anyways, these days I find it so much easier to have a request granted from my parents, as long as it's reasonable. And yes, especially money. Though since I work somewhere around 16 hours a week and spend about 1/3 of my paycheck, the requests for money have become quite nonexistent. But I still notice it. My dad speaks to me differently now. It's much less condescending. Either that, or I just stopped giving a shit about whatever tone he speaks to me in. In any aspect, there's a hint that he's trying to get something he lost or never had. Screw that, an eight year old me has a malleable mind, but definitely not now. Everyone blows a chance or two in their lifetime. Live with it.
I think I've joined the ranks of society by christening myself with some philosophy that the quest for money, as superficial and greedy as it sounds, is not a bad way to go. I mean, shit, most of us were raised being taught that money isn't everything, there are a lot of things that matter a lot and are more meaningful, yadda yadda yadda, but show me someone who would turn down a million dollars if it was thrown onto their lap and I'll show you either 1)a retard 2)someone who is already so rich it doesn't matter 3)a retard. No, I'm not dropping the whole philosophy about people mattering a great deal (see below post), but hey, money helps you enjoy time with people, yes? And with regard to suicide, I think it would be weird for most people NOT to consider it at least once. Is that wrong and I'm just a uniquely troubled child? Anyways, it all comes down to how Dianne mentioned once before: Not wanting to live but terrified of dying at the same time. Well, seeing that I can be an arrogant bastard and think that my death would be a waste of life, ability, and potential (shit I'm really patting myself on the back hard now, eh?), and suicide is out of the question, I might as well try and find something to enjoy in this goddam life.
There's the little things in life to enjoy. Taking a sip of hot tea. Watching an almost perfectly-made smoke ring slowly float away from your mouth. Collapsing in bed at sunrise when your body can no longer hold itself up. Clinking a glass (or a bottle, perhaps) with a group of friends and raising a toast to nothing in particular. Chatting online at an ungodly hour of the night because you don't want to study, but you can't sleep, either.
And then there's the things that are there for you to get over. Classes, midterms, finals, papers, and all the things that make post-due/test-date nights miserable. But just think about where you will be an hour, perhaps a day or even a week after that dreaded day. You know deep down you'll be alright, so why the hell stress?
I laugh. I endure. I sleep. I hope. I avoid what would perhaps make me cry. I look with derision upon people (typically conservative) who blind themselves with idiocy. I sit awake at night wondering what my place is, and where. I wonder if there's anyone in the world who could possibly be a match for me. I lose myself in the company of people, music, work, games, an occasional drink, whatever. And I look at myself in the mirror, asking my reflection why he is the way he is, and he replies, "Because I like it this way," and as I stare at the sardonically smiling features looking back at me, I can't bring myself to remotely consider disagreeing.
Yes, the world confuses the shit out of me at times. Yes, people surprise me, make me happy, and disappoint me. Yes, I wish I had that person to talk about nothing and everything at the same time with. Yes, life keeps going, and maybe I will win out this day, this year, this life, whatever (Alex).
We are our father's sons. Our mother's daughters. Sometimes we think we are god's unwanted children. But damn me if I'm wrong, we each excel in our own little ways, and even if you wished that you were someone or anyone else, damn you if you would even remotely consider for an instant to go through with that wish if it were possible to be granted.
Life, or something like it? Definitely.
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Sunday, January 26th, 2003
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| Subject: | Life Philosophy, perhaps. |
| Time: | 2:40 am. |
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I realized recently that I am happier now than I have probably been my whole life. I'm also incredibly happy at a time when I think about God the least. You know what's a happier life than fucking around basking in what you believe is a godly life and being shepherded around by your pastors and your church leaders and try convincing yourself that God is playing an essential-yet-unseen part in your life? A life where you invest in people. I'm sure at some point in most people's lives that they wish they could do something great or noticeable to change the world. Some people become depressed because they don't feel they made a difference? Shit, do you know what changing the world is?
This world is full of people. Ambitious people with aspirations. Many people want to be the next Einstein, the next Newton, the next Gutenberg, the next (insert great figure in history here). It's all good and dandy for those great figures, but what we fail to realize is that in the big picture, the smaller things DO matter. A baby giggling. Your friend's face lighting up at something. A laugh shared over a drink. Smiling at someone and seeing them smile back. Being able to trust someone. For those lucky enough, the ability to share a warm embrace and touch foreheads with eyes closed with someone they love. I used to argue that if you don't become close to anyone, you won't get betrayed, and save yourself from a bit of pain. But is that worth it?
Yes, people are finicky. Yes, people turn on each other. Yes, friends lose contact, friends become enemies, and people become disappointed in one another. But there is no better investment in your life than people. People are what make life worth living. You want to change the world? Here's a secret: what makes the world what it is lies all around you. Without people, the world (implying the physical world) changing wouldn't matter that much. Enjoy the time you share with your friends. Meet new people with a willingness to see them as good friends in your future. If people do bad things to do, don't hate and dwell on it. You don't even need to forgive. Remember, and move on. Don't dwell on things that stress you. Don't dwell on people that hurt you. Look at anything and everything that is good in your life, find happiness in that, and with any amount of happiness that brings you, share it with people. When you make a difference in someone else's life, you change the world. Hell, like that cheesy song goes: "We are the world." Yes, we ARE the world. Stop seeing the world as something you try to live through and instead as something as you're an integral part of. Because you are, for better or for worse. There are a lot of things in life that are pretty miserable. You might as well try to make it better.
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Wednesday, December 25th, 2002
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| Subject: | I need to get drunk or something |
| Time: | 1:35 am. |
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People attach a lot of meanings and symbols to their lives. Things have to have meaning. There's always why, why, why. Take the "holidays," for example. What do you think? Lights. Laughter. A smiling family sitting around a table radiating happiness and joy. Why does it have to be December 24th and 25th on which people choose to have a big 'ol gala event? Why Thanksgiving? Any of these big, commercialized events? Because that's when people are on vacation and the family can get together? Please, if a family really wanted to have a big dinner together, and the family didn't have some insane number of members like 50 or something, then it's not that hard for a get-together. But it has to be Thanksgiving, it has to be Christmastime, it has to be on a day with "meaning." Hooha, it's Christmastime, let's all get together. Ah well, people do what people do.
Hell, I took a Soc class, let's talk about soc related materials. What about marriages? In our culture that constantly emphasizes the whole thing of ME, there is a lot of pressure on marriage, because in marriage it is about "us." Not "me." You can't have a group in which there is me me me. Sometimes with a couple it'll be us/me, or me/me, or us/us. The former two probably don't last as long. However, sometimes "us" people switch." Sometimes "me" people switch. All that said, the divorce rate is still insanely high, which I guess shows a large lack of us/us mentality in people these days. What a pity. I also find it funny how a lot of couples are afraid to get into arguments, like it will destroy their relationship or something (and in many cases it does, which is even more pathetic). Arguments are good, as long as they're not happening like every minute of the damn day. Arguments help you understand the errors of your ways. Compromise, reset your position, make yourself better. Instead of mulling over an argument, why not just learn from it? Shouldn't relationships be happiest when the couples are made up of people who enjoy each other's company and do things together? No fun, no relationship, eh? Pretty pointless to be with someone whose company you don't even enjoy. But then this is all coming from the person with zero experience, so what do I know, eh?
Damn, it sucks to be alone on a cold Christmas night. How awesome it is to be me. All you first-year people fare well in your classes? Getting those awesome unweighted gpas and all. Three cheers for harsh college grading, and of course for spending the holidays at home watching anime. Cowboy Bebop rules.
On an entirely different note, I think desperation marriages at the age of 40 are ridiculous.
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Thursday, January 3rd, 2002
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| Subject: | Obnoxious morning calls, and LOVE |
| Time: | 5:35 am. |
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I'm in that not-quite-awake, not-quite-asleep stage, when I hear this faint yell of my name. A few seconds later it's followed up by a banging on my door, and my dad says "It's Ben on the phone." I drag myself out of bed, see that it's about 10:30am, and pick up. This is what I hear: *Arabic accent* Ben: "Hello, is this Andre's vacuuming service? tunak tunak do do da da da do do da do. Me: "What the hell? Aren't you guys supposed to be on a mountain snowboarding about now?" Ben: "Dododododo da da da do da do HELLO IS THIS ANDRE'S VACUUMING SERVICE?" *Frank and Kai laugh in the background* And then Ben hangs up. BASTARD! That is sooooooooo bastard. So I go back to sleep, and I have a weird dream about a bomb threat, I'm suddenly working for these people with sunglasses and dark suits, and I need to deliver some canister of something disguised as a Dr. Pepper bottle to the top of this huge building. Mission impossible stuff. And to top it off, I'm doing the mission on rollerblades. Probably because I was talking about how using skis is like using rollerblades the day before.
This is going to be long. I don't care if you've skimmed everything I've ever written, try taking the following text to heart.
Love, eh. Ok, I'll try to organize my thoughts on the matter.
Merriam-Webster's dictionary defines love as a "strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties." I guess I agree with that, though there's multiple levels of love, in my opinion.
There's the kind of love where you're so infatuated with a person that everywhere you go, you see them, you hear their voice, you crave their company, and you want nothing more than to just sit down with them and tell them everything about yourself and have them do the same.
There's the kind of love where you just want to satisfy your physical cravings, though I question the sincerity of that kind of love.
There's the kind of unconditional love that's supposed to exist between family members, though I've come to believe that doesn't apply to my life and I've wholly rejected it.
Love is when you speak to someone, and you're not afraid of choosing the wrong words in fear of offending them. Total, honest conversation.
Love is when two people can sit together on a plush couch, and just sort of lean on each other, in a gentle embrace, and just stare at nothing, or each other, or whatever, and they can do it for hours without saying a word, because all they need is that silent connection, that bond.
Love is when two people can stare at each other for as long as they need to, without saying a word, and just enjoying the fact that they're in that place, at that moment.
Love is when your best friend dies, your house goes up in flames, your car was stolen, you got F's on all your finals, and you cry out to god and wonder why all hell is breaking loose around you, and then you can hold someone, your tears trickling down your face onto their shirt, and then wishing the moment could last forever, even with the world falling to pieces around you, and in that moment, it doesn't matter, because for that split second all is right with the world because you have each other. All hell could break loose upon your life, but it's not all lost, because even though material things are lost, your emotions are in turmoil, your heart aches, and grief is overwhelming, the thing that doesn't disappear is love.
I personally think that any kind of dating relationship in high school is wasted time. Almost all my friends would disagree here, since they either are going out with someone, or wish they were. Think realistically here. What are the odds of a relationship working out? Adult marriages have a less than 50% chance of succeeding today. What's your response? "I really love her."? "This relationship will be different."? "If I try, it can happen."? Don't make me laugh. When married people take their vows (arranged marriages and marrying-for-money put aside), they SHOULD be in love, right? Then why do they fail? Somewhere along the line, someone couldn't compromise. Love was replaced with tension. Marriage vows were replaced with bitter feelings. Divorce happens. How sad is that? That's not just sad, that's INCREDIBLY sad. A little while ago, two people claimed to love each other to the death, and now they couldn't give a damn whether the other had cancer (for example). That tells me that when those people took their wedding vows, it wasn't under love, it was under some kind of mental rush.
To counter my opinion, people use the argument of "relationships in high school prepare you for future adult ones." I beg to differ. People change day by day, week by week, year by year. Do you honestly think that in ten years, your mindset, your ideals, your opinions will be the same? When someone reaches adulthood, they can think, "I have high school dating experience, I know what went wrong, I'll act differently now." Hah. How did you talk in high school? How did you act in high school? How did you think in high school? I bet it's not the same. Even if they acted the same way, they'd still generate different responses.
And of course there's the fact that in high school, you're still in adolescence. Your hormones are making you think and feel things you never did before. I have tried in all my power to keep every single opposite-sex friendship in my high school years platonic, because I think it's such a waste when two people are going through the whole "Hey we're good friends, how about we take it to the next level..." thing. I've seen a lot of my friends go through that, get involved in a dating relationship, have something go wrong, and end up not even being on speaking terms with the other person anymore. I ask them what they think, and they say they don't regret breaking up because the other person was a horrible person. How crappy is that? How sad is it when two people have an excellent, perfectly comfortable relationship, and they share times together, laugh together, cry together, be one, yet separate at the same time, and then they take it to the next step, break each other's hearts, and never speak to each other again? Can you say "Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all" now?
One of quotes that I live by: "United we stand. Divided...we stand separately." That's an underlying principle behind platonic relationships. Two people are together, united, and are strong together. They don't need any kind of physical attraction or urges to be a unit. They can be awesome together, yet not together as in a dating relationship. "Divided...we stand separately." Right. When you're not with the person, you're not crippled or can't have as much fun. You don't need them to complement you in order to be whole. The basic summary: Together, you're awesome together. Apart, you're just as capable.
You are not your car. You are not your paycheck. You are not your grades, or your income. You may like to think you are, but then you're just fooling yourself. You are you, the essence of you, and you are awesome not because of all the material superficial crap, but because life is a never ending quest for self actualization and fulfillment. Things like self actualization and fulfillment aren't received by money or cars or grades. It's about your love for life. Do you live to love? Or love to live? You do both, because life without love is empty. And even though everyone goes through those times where you want to scream, where you want to hide in a corner and cry, and perhaps even suicide, somewhere under there is the desire to live. Only the truly brave or the foolhardy have no fear of death. Lack of the fear of death means a lack of humanity. I know that I've gone through time after time where I wanted nothing more than to die and stop worrying, but why am I alive today? Why didn't someone find me lying in a pool of blood with a weapon resting in my hand? Why didn't someone find me in a mangled heap of metal somewhere on the road? Because I had that inner desire to hope for a better time. Again, do you live to love? Or love to live? You need to do both, because life without love is empty.
Love is the remedy for people when they feel down. Not self pity (*cough*). Incubus says it pretty well: "Don't let the world bring you down. Not everything here is that fucked up and cold. Remember why you came and while you're alive experience the warmth before you grow old." Yes. But it's not just the warmth. It's the joy. One of my flaws is my writing in this very journal. Why? Because I write about dark things. I constantly write about the bad, and it consumes me. It's said that letting anger consume you is a horrible thing. That may be right, but when anger consumes me it gives me a rush like no other, it's like a drug. You know it's bad for you, and you know that chronic use will result in nothing but damage, but you do it anyways. That feeling of wanting to scream, the feeling of wanting to run up to someone you hate and bring them to the ground, watching the life seep out of them breath by breath. I almost don't know life without anger, dissatisfaction, and hate. But somewhere beneath all that was buried love. It's still buried, I'm just trying to write about what it thinks.
The Bible refers to love as: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." Somewhere along the tides of life, I lost love. And I haven't gotten it back yet. The Bible speaks more about love: "Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. ... And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." Sometimes I think I should read my Bible more.
Ignorance is bliss. The more knowledge we gather, the better we understand things, and we become more intelligent. In the process of gaining understanding and knowledge, pain becomes a factor. A lot of times I wish I could start over, be everything I wanted to be, not saying certain things I said, not doing certain things I did. A friend told me: "The more knowledge we gather, the better we understand things, and we become more intelligent, and when we become intelligent, we learn to discern what are the thoughts we should be dwelling upon and what garbage can be thrown out. Yes, pain is a huge factor. But love is greater. If love is greater than faith and hope, then surely it is greater than pain." Read that again, instead of just regarding it as another quote in this entry. Do you understand it? If you don't, come back later and try to understand it again. That quote is the best counter for "ignorance is bliss" that I could ever hope to hear.
I talked about suicide earlier. I'll talk about it some more. I've wanted to do it before, and I can describe my feelings as this: I want to jump somewhere, fall, and not stop falling. Close my eyes, feel everything zooming by me, and nothing matters anymore.
But I can't do it. Not yet. There's still things I need to do. I refuse to die until I am satisfied. There's the will to die, but there's a greater will to live.
Back to love. I just hope that in maybe the next decade, I can find love beyond the love I have for platonic friendships, like the ones I have with my friends. I love those special people I share happy and sad times with.
Not the kind of love where a guy tries to say the right word(s) to make some girl like him, or vice versa, going through the step by step thing where you first hold hands, then hug all the time, and then moving on to that annoying stuff in the halls and by the lockers where you just want to say "Hey, I'm trying to get my books. Get a room, huh?" And then they say something to piss each other off, and it's all over. What happened to the love? The answer: there was no love. What they thought was love wasn't love. Love is the bonding of souls. Sure, there's different degrees of love: family love, friendship love, marriage love.
And then there's the kind of love that many people seek, few find, and even fewer keep. The kind of love that is found in a marriage that lasts.
Love is elusive. It's there, you want it, and you reach for it. You get a taste of it, sometimes, and it slips away.
The successful people are the ones who try, try, try, and finally grasp true love, and keep it in a secure lockbox, so they'll never lose it. Love is what doesn't disappear.
Why didn't I write about this sooner? Probably because I don't feel love when I'm inside the house, which is where I write all my journals. I don't like being at home, because I don't like the people I live with. The generation gap effect has hit this household with maximum force. Maybe that's why I crave the type of love beyond friendships, yet reject it at the same time, because I'm afraid that something of that genre will be tainted by the feelings that emerge at home.
Love is so many things. It's a bond, it's understanding, it's intimate yet fun at the same time, it's so many things. I can only hope that I'll grasp and understand it someday. Until then, I'll hold my own.
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