Thursday, February 24, 2011


"Yes, you have killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because you were wonderful, because you had genius and intellect, because you realized the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and stupid. My God! how mad I was to love you! What a fool I have been! You are nothing to me now. I will never see you again. I will never think of you. I will never mention your name. You don't know what you were to me, once. Why, once . . . . Oh, I can't bear to think of it! I wish I had never laid eyes upon you! You have spoiled the romance of my life. How little you can know of love, if you say it mars your art! What are you without your art? Nothing. I would have made you famous, splendid, magnificent. The world would have worshipped you, and you would have belonged to me. What are you now? A third-rate actress with a pretty face."

- Dorian Gray

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

communication arts

when i was younger, countless thoughts i would have would be jumbled up in my brain.  when a subject enters the realm of my thoughts, every possible angle to which they can be analyzed is thoroughly and obsessively processed.  it's not until i get them down all pat and organized that i can make any sense of them.  the facility of putting them all down into words though wasn't always available to me, and even through my sophomoric attempts at any sort of meaningful writing have probably been a bunch of fail (like in this blog), my writing was that much worse when i was a little lad.

throughout the later years of high school and college, the things i wrote down would start to form with a cohesion that could possibly maintain the attention of intelligent beings.  this was borne out of a need, a desperate desire to an audience that sprung from a singular event.

ironically, however, my writing was not improved by putting words down on a paper, but from actually speaking, talking, hearing myself out loud, responding to what other people said, recollecting their reactions from things i would say, and just generally thinking on the fly of various combinations of things i could say to elicit a certain type of response.  there was extensive self training and forming various new habits where i'm quite certain my brain was starting to wrap the myelin or whatever it is around the synapses necessary to just be more improvisational and quick on my feet.

music was another way for me to really delve into this realm of transferring ideas.  the movement of words in combination with tones just awoke an infectious need for me to relate anything i come across into a song (i often just sing a line from a particular song like an annoying song quotable jukebox when the proper situation arises).  after a musical phase in high school, it was in college when i watched moulin rouge for the first time, awakening a somewhat latent desire to be in some sort of musical theater (although i don't think i'm ever going to be cut out for broadway), and in turn my love for the dramatic and acting.

i feel that my quest for self expression is not nearly complete.  and i have myself to blame for that, i have taken shortcuts and have been lazy in that regard, not fully living up to the potential i have been given.  sometimes it's difficult however, when caught up in bouts of despair to wonder if what you have to say really even matters at all, if it's at all different than whatever has been said, and even if it matters and hasn't been said, if it will have an impact or meaning on the things i cherish and value.  it is this intangible outcome that debilitates and paralyzes me to the point where i cannot truly feel free in expression and backslide into mediocrity.

i do not know how to stay sharp and motivated anymore.  i need a purpose, a reason, a desire, an impetus.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


i am too easily influenced by the rhetoric of others.

but i would like to surmise that it may be preferable to being too easily influenced by the rhetoric of one's own heart.

out of body

corroborating evidence.

that's all i can see when my world view is formed.  early in my adolescence, probably in the middle of an earth science class in 8th grade, i formed a philosophy on life that was bleak, depressing and probably somewhat analogous to the Big Freeze theory of the end of the universe.  i probably could've wrote part one of the Leviathan as a 12 year old.  the idea ingrained in my mind was that things in the world are in constant decay, and that there's nothing essentially we can do to stop it, no matter how long we try to hold on to any sense of permanence.  every experience i've had since then i probably took in with a bit of confirmation bias, to validate that philosophy.

although there might be evidence to the contrary, they have not been personal experiences.  secondhand truth is not something that has ever been palatable to me, there's something to be said for going out there and making foolish foolery out of oneself and growing from it.  now this doesn't mean i'm about to go around and do dumb things i'm going to regret, but at the same time, finding out about life in a book, poem, movie, doesn't cut it.

i was having a conversation with someone about good things in life, and how sometimes it was easier to not believe in them because it's harder to face the reality that maybe they do exist, but they were just not meant for you.  it'd be easier to believe in a reality where no one really attained those things in the end, and futility just awaited every endeavor we embark on.  having continual hope has become a hopeless goal, hope is a hard thing to maintain.

so now it's ironic, that something that i heard about for someone else happened recently (something kind of trivial and stupid, but awesome nonetheless), that convinced me of the possibility that the future holds.  it's curious too, because another event that happened soon after tempered that notion of optimism with a reserved cautiousness.  it's almost perfect how the two events worked together in unison to show me how i think i need to view things, and that my usual method of going in guns ablazing, shooting first and asking questions later might not always be the best method.  it showed me that sometimes a step back needs to be taken to consider possible consequences, but at the same time, that the leap of faith can still be worth it.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

love is in the air

last year, i wrote about my on and off relationship.  you can find out about it here:


little did i know what was in store.  she finally came around.  our one year anniversary is going to be in a couple months, on april 5th.  this was the day i had been waiting for my entire life.  we tied the knot.  we had our honeymoon.  streaming confetti, fireworks, parades, celebrations, songs, speeches, all were given in much fanfare to celebrate the occasion.  although i heard of this kind of love happening in the past to others, in 1991, 1992, and 2001, i didn't know if it'd happen again in my lifetime, much less to me.

the past year has been remarkable, full of happiness and promise.  we were unashamedly, unabashedly in love.  even my fashion took a trend towards demarcating the occasion, as many a paraphernalia was purchased in happiness.  sure, my affections were found nauseating by others, even more so than in previous years, but hey, what good is a good event if you can't gloat to the haters who wished unhappiness upon us?

i mean i know there are supposed to be good times and bad times with any relationship, but so far, it has been smooth sailing.  well, i guess there was last week on wednesday, when we got in a huge fight about her idiot sister caroline, but within 20 minutes or so, we resolved it.  and more than made up, if you know what i mean.

so...there's been a bump here and there, with the occasional toe problem, but surely that will all be resolved in a month or so.  or so i hope.  it's alright though, i'll love her no matter what happens.  for better or worse, or so they say, right?

this coming month, our one year anniversary is coming up.  the view from up top is looking excellent so far.  here's to a continued blessed relationship, and eternal passion, no matter what the circumstance.

well, i guess i don't want to have another 9 year stretch like last time though...

Friday, February 11, 2011

Thursday, February 10, 2011


sometimes, you just get tired of looking for the truth.  not because you don't care about it anymore, or that you can't "handle it", but after failing to scratch its surface for so long, you wonder if finding it is worth its cost.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


i'm not as complicated as i like to make myself out to be.

i don't have time.

i know i know, another priscilla entry and nary a month passed by, but who knew she was going to give a clandestine performance in new york for me to quickly ninja?

went to rockwood music hall today after seeing priscilla ahn tweet that she was going to be playing there for free, and got the opportunity to hear a set of songs from her upcoming album "when you grow up"

some titles are based on my best guess, may not be the actual ones:

Lost Cause, sorry about the early camera work.
Elf , be sure to check out 1:47
I Want You Right Now, some gute electronica action
You Were the One, piercing and emo, but with a lol moment at 0:34.  my second fave.
Ooh La La, cute song about happenstances

and of course:
Dream, gets me everytime.

her newest set had a lot of love themed songs (which was surprising since her first album was more about identity seeking, but i guess maybe her marriage had something to do with her direction).  here was my favorite song from the set, called "I Don't Have Time to Be in Love".

as i've said probably countless times before, i don't really like love songs in the sense that they're so easy to really just mess up by being overly cheesy or cliche.  i won't say that i won't like songs to just listen to for fun like "baby" by justin bieber, but when i think about them conceptually, i don't get really that much enjoyment out of them.

however what makes a love song work is the intimate and personal nature of it, which you can see coming from the lyrics, although they may not be totally original illustrations, they work because they sound genuinely anecdotal.  the cheap keyboard instrumental actually gives it a cute little quirky twist that adds to the personal element, imo.  it defintely just feels, real.  something that's uncommon nowadays.

i don't have time to be in love
kissing you on the cheek
two hundred times a week

i don't have time to be in love
way too much candlelight
keeping me warm at night

but that's not true
when i'm with you

i don't have time to be in love
watching a foreign film
feet on the windowsill

i don't have time to be in love
cooking a meal for two
climbing all over you

but that's not true
when i'm with you

cause i used to
be there for you when you were so blue
i'd walk with you in the rain
nothing was better when we did it together
but i don't have time for love

i don't have time to be in love
holding to you to my chest
feeling your every breath

i don't have time to be in love
laughing so hard we cried
sometimes i don't know why

i don't have time to be in love
maybe this reverie
just wasn't meant for me

but that's not true
when i'm with you

when i'm with you

Monday, February 7, 2011


if you were to ask me how my life would turn out, 6 months, a year, 2 years, 5 years, 10 years ago, each response would've been different.  each response shows me the futility of actually trying to figure out what my life would look like.  and even if i don't feel like i've changed, others who have known me throughout have told me that throughout each period of time, i have given off a sense of growth.

like the joker in "the dark knight" says, i used to think i had plans, that i was a schemer.  that i had all these machinations and ideas of how my life was going to go, and the root of all that was comfort.  comfortability with the status quo, with life as it is.  and also like the joker says, nobody panics when things go "according to plan".  even when the plan is horrifying.  it took me a while to realize that they were in fact horrifying.

i asked a friend recently if he had any regrets in his life, and he told me, "i'd like to think that at the end of the day, all my mistakes will amount to something.  will i live with some guilt?  of course, the consequences of my actions will live with me.  but does that mean that they served no purpose?  i don't believe so."

and little by little, i realize that if you were to chart out every step of my life, you could see that things had a purpose.  it's crazy but this is one of the things that i cling to when i try to revive the miniscule shred of faith that i still have.  this is the evidence i try to keep in mind when i try to submit and give up control of any plan or idea of where my life should be going to God.

my birthday has always been a sensitive time for me.  strange momentous, lesson learning things happen on my birthdays.  a long time ago in my teenage youth, the beginning of my many escapades of emotional turmoil, i had been romanticizing this vision of being in love with a girl.  as someone who has been told that "you're the kind of person that likes to blow things up in your mind", it was easy for me to become enchanted with it all.

i remember watching a movie on my birthday with some friends and remembering seeing this guy and girl, who i thought was a couple, right in front of me, and thinking how nice that kind of love looked and thinking about a girl who i was interested in at the time.  at the end of the movie, the "couple" turned around, and the girl happened to be the girl i was interested in, and the guy was her brother.

needless to say i pretty much had a heart attack afterwards, but looking back, i think i was being subtly (or not so subtly) told that a relationship with a significant other isn't the only way we as humans are relational beings, as we sometimes make it out to be.  and that sometimes God will use his sense of humor to not only play sick jokes on me, but to teach me something from his concoctions of crazy circumstance.

it is this ineffable persistence of coincidence that tip me when i'm on the fence that my life does have some sort of purpose, however murky and indeterminate it may be.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


"i don't even know who the fuck you are."

no you don't.  i'm the guy trying to save your ass, you idiot, i thought to myself.  i cursed the weather as the night had become surprisingly cold in the past few hours.

how does one get through to a drunk and/or drugged girl, that they had never met only for the first time that night?  the idea of "i want to help you because you cannot help yourself" becomes a lost phrase that cannot be understood.  dealing with a belligerent girl who didn't know where she was, was trying to contact a girl who was in california to pick her up, lived out of town, and you or the person you were with had no real tangible connection with was a problem.

"you realize that you're not all there right now, right?  you just tried to get into a police car."  i had a nice time apologizing profusely to an officer who looked like he was about to pull his 9mm on me and the drunkard, as i pulled her away from the car.

"whatever, who cares?  just get off me!  leave me alone!"

i thought if maybe i was a bit gentler, maybe if i coaxed her in a certain way, maybe if i had more psychological training, i could fool her into being more cooperative.  but sometimes, there is no reasoning with the crazies.  so we spent hours trying to get any sort of useful information out of her, and instead we received nonsense and insults.

finally, relief came in the form of an actual bouncer who helped with getting the authorities involved in getting her to safety.  my friend and i could walk away (and oh did we want to walk away many a times), without the guilt on our conscience of her body being found somewhere in an alley the next morning.

but i couldn't help thinking to myself of that phrase she said to me.  that she didn't know who the fuck i was.  that she didn't understand that i was trying to help her.  that more than, it felt like a loaded statement, that she did not trust anyone to help her but herself.  instead of being angry at her for causing such a disastrous night, i began to pity her for having that kind of outlook on life, that she would find it hard to believe that a random stranger would try to help her when she was in need.

she had the airs of being independent, but i could sense that there was a deeper pain underneath that facade.  and as much as she attacked me, and as much as i wanted to walk away, i couldn't.

but maybe it doesn't matter, because i was just a stranger.  there was nothing really much more i could do.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


sometimes i wish i had remained the coward that i was in my youth.  things seem like they would have been easier then.  the biases that form once you get cut so deeply by a situation where you expose yourself become so strongly etched in your identity, that it's hard to shake them off the next time you need to try again.

but then i remember that those wounds remind me of how deeply i do feel things, and how i don't ever want to get to the point where i am stoic about life.  i want to keep hungering, and longing, and searching, and not ever give up on life, never quitting, never admitting defeat, never settling.

it is also in those moments that i remember that the memories of my past have been the reason i was able to build up the courage that i have now.

"hope remains, while the company is true." - galadriel, lady of lothlorien

It hurts just to wake up
Whenever you're wearing thin
Alone on the outside
So tired of looking in

The end is uncertain
And I've never been so afraid
But I don't need a telescope
To see that there's hope
And that makes me feel brave

-owl city