Small Realizations on the Self

We spend half our lives reconciling with what we were born with and the other half trying to figure out who we are.


A quote from the pages of my sketchbook- it's something I've come to realize the past few days here in Hong Kong- we are given 50%- the physical appearance, family, certain hobbies and interests and perhaps a sprinkling of friends but the other 50%, we are left to find our for ourselves. However with the 50% we are given, can be so difficult to digest- knowing what I know about myself, it's been hard for me to come to terms with my upbringing let alone trying to discover the rest of me.
----------------------------------------------------------

You insisted on a name- I said another day.
That night, I realized that sooner or later I had to tell because in keeping it all to myself, I'm just harbouring something that should not be regarded as something so precious, as something worth valuing because it was never mine to begin with. In his terms, I'm taking things too seriously still.
Do you understand what I mean?

I have a fortune from a chinese fortune cookie in the back of my Hong Kong subway card that reads,
the loss which is unknown is no loss at all.

How true.

At a Loss for Words

Frustrated.

That's all I can say- today is and was just plain frustrating.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't born Canto because it feels like my tongue has been sliced off- what I want to say I can't say, what I can say- well who gives a darn if no one understands.

My parents went out today, my mom wanted me to bake chocolate cheesecake since my family thinks I'm a good baker. However she forgot to buy cocoa and springform pans to put the cake in so I'm left in a double kitchen looking for stuff that wasn't there to begin with. And the filipino maids don't know any english- all they know is a bit of canto- and my grandmother looked so confused when I tried to figure out how to say 'measuring cup' in Chinese. In french, even though I don't even know what the precise translation is, at least I could explain but in Canto, I literally was at a loss for words. I said 'bui' but it wasn't exact- I should have just drawn one for her to see, but I was so incredibly frustrated not being able to talk the way I do normally and having my aunts and the maids constantly asking me if I needed this or that or why I was doing this or that, I didn't know what to say because I can't say it.
I can understand it, but I can't speak it.

As much as I have come to love being Chinese, I hate it all the same because I am one of the most culturally messed up people you'll ever meet: citizen to not one country, but to all, I only have bits and pieces of a singular cultures that don't really fit well together: I went to an international school, had a british accent, understand conversational chinese really well, can karaoke a couple of taiwanese songs not understanding what the heck I'm singing, can read a little hirigana and probably would be better off in France with the seven years of french in school than if I was stuck in HK.
My brother laughed at me when I started speaking Chinese to my aunt on the phone although I didn't think there was anything wrong, yesterday a family friend accuses us of messing up his chinese after havign spent a year trying to get rid of his accent, I had lunch with a friend in toronto last week and she laughs at my chinese and imitates me like there's something drastically wrong with it and I have been called a defected chinese for not being able to speak my mothertongue.

And it hurts because I want to try but I just want to give up. What makes it sting even more is the fact that these are not random people who are making fun of me, but people who I consider are my friends. I might as well accept the fact that I will always have an english accent with my canto, and just hone in my english skills and not speak canto at all to anyone.
Why is it that people always beat you down when you try to stand up?

Yesterday we had dim sum with two other families and sitting next to me was a childhood friend I used to play with when I lived in HK- I wanted to talk to her, I really did. After having refined my small talk skills in Manhattan, I wanted to talk to her but I just couldn't. I couldn't out of the fear of being made fun of, and not having a wide enough vocabulary to say what I wanted to say.


As a child growing up with Barbie, I wished I was physically Caucasian.
Grown up, I've come to take pride in my Chinese heritage but there are times when I wish I was Caucasian. It'd make my life a little easier because I wouldn't have to be ashamed of trying to learn an unfamiliar language.

I feel so stupid here.

December 25th 2007.

Have yourselves a merry little (white) Christmas.
Well, my Christmas was yesterday here.
And it was by far the weirdest Christmas ever.
Waking up to sundress weather and having a bowl of white congee and steamed water chestnut overlooking the beach. We went to the Country Club with my cousins, a few of his friends, and family for a Christmas buffet- a celebratory gesture I guess- where there was so much food to try and taste- it took our table of twelve, one and a half hours to savour and digest, and try again.
We all then went to visit the company's 'cottage'- a giant house overlooking the sea. I'm not used to this life anymore- with maids washing your clothes and serving your every meal to being chauffeured around and having lunches at some polo-wearing, posh country club. If I had stayed in HK, I think I would have turned out a very different person.

Anyway, my cousin, her bf and I ended up wandering around Sham Shui Po looking for the garment district. Everything in Christmas is open- Christmas is essentially a holiday for people to shop and spend time with their significant one- seriously EVERY girl had some boyfriend slung around their arm. We ended up trying some japanese restaurant and walking around outside to see the Christmas lights and then headed to the boardwalk where everyone was, to see the HK lights- as tacky as they were, they looked pretty good together. Yeah, and then we went to see the Four Seasons hotel which was still in construction when I was in HK two years ago and then went to see my cousin's apartment.

Weirdest Christmas I tell you.
More later. :)

Concerning the Beauty of Life, Love and the Little Black Dress (LBD)

I feel a little disoriented.
I haven't had time to really absorb the past couple days worth of activities- from stressing to finals to bam! Flying back to Toronto and then bam! seeing old familiar faces as if the past four months never existed. I don't even feel like I need a 'welcome back!' greeting anymore- it seems like an unspoken mutual assumption that we know the last time we saw each other was in the summer, and it doesn't matter anymore because the past is gone and now is now.
And now, in four hours, I'll be going to Hong Kong (back Jan 10)
It's been a year since Urbana.
-------------------------------------------------


While we were at Go For Tea today- sixteen of us, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentedness and peace. Just sitting there watching old friends talk, yell, 'argue' and laugh made me feel so incredibly happy- despite all having our own separate lives, this rare moment of being together was just really, well, special. And knowing that there may not be one of these until summer, I tried to absorb their presence, and to remember what it felt like to be with them physically. I cherish the normal- going out for bubble tea on Friday night- sure it's typical, but I love it. I love the familiar, the 'good ol' days' and revisiting the past in the present.
As I was sitting in Matt's car driving to Go For Tea, and him singing a Michael Buble song, I just thought under that velvety night sky punctuated with machines in flight and stars, life is so beautiful.
Sad yet beautiful. Full of joy and happiness with hints of sorrow and regret.
There are times when I'm not sure whether to cry or laugh because I'm so happy.
The presence of old friends is just intoxicating.

God has blessed me with wonderful friends- gifts have never really been about the tangible, but the thought behind it. The present from Angie and Jerry was unexpected- and I absolutely adored the wrapping paper (brown paper with a drawing of Jerry as Gandalf and Angie as Legolas holding a sign that said 'Sam') to Andrew's simple card (funnily enough, the Christmas card had nothing to do with Christmas) to Ayrine's mini fondue set (yeah we're using this thing when I get back- just like how we did at Max Brenners. :P)
I feel like I don't deserve any of these 'thoughts' or the monetary funds used to make me happy. This Christmas, I've realized that, I really don't want anything but just to spend time with friends. I really don't want anything.
Except maybe a couture gown. HAHAHA. But unless you have $24,000 to spare, you can give me some of your time and I'll be ecstatic.

There's nothing I really want to do with people here, than just be with them. If I could, I wouldn't utter a single word but because I'd make the situation awkward, I'd have to spout something out. But really, after having to support friendships through MSN (which means talking), I'd rather just sit in silence and remember what it's like to be with them physically. Don't say anything, just let me be with you. I just want to be able to look them in the face and smile. Because how often can I look at you and just have a wordless conversation? Your face is comforting to see, it brings a smile to my face that we finally meet again.
You see, I kinda view friends as cherry blossoms- cherry blossoms being a representation of life passing. In their presence, one feels their imminent absence. In the same way, despite chilling with friends in the present, I know I will eventually 'lose' them for a while until we cross paths again. And who knows when that will be? We know that the sakura dies but will eventually come back in a year, in the same way, friends will come and go, but we will meet again.


They think my life is exciting- jetsetter, city girl, cosmopolitan. One day in Manhattan, another in Toronto and next Hong Kong/Shanghai. I am lucky and I am fortunate but as Buble says, 'another aeroplane another sunny place, I'm lucky I know, but I want to go home.'
I'd love to spend my Christmas at my house with all my psycho aunts, uncles and cousins as we cackle over really trivial things. I'd love to have our annual Christmas tree- and breathe in that slightly bitter fragrance of fresh pine.
I'd love to be able to go to Robyn's place and celebrate Christmas Eve and New Year's with everyone.
Yet I know Hong Kong has other things in store for me- and though Christmas will be different this year without my mom's side of the family and without snow, I'm sure God has plans for me.

*
I'm good at picking out clothes for other people, no? Rin looked stunning today- I know all the boys were staring.
At times, I feel like I never got out of my awkward physical teenage state.
I'm not confident or sure of myself- I've always been self conscious and shy. Sometimes I pretend to be confident because people assume I know what I'm doing being in the field that I am, when in fact I can barely dress myself because I'm strangely scared.
Some girls wear baggy shirts and pants to hide themselves, I use fashion to do the same thing.
Though I'm not ashamed of what I was born with, I've always felt that if I ever decided to reveal that extra inch of skin, that I was being condemned of being a stumbling block. I don't want to be a stumbling block, I want to glorify God in all that I am, yet I want to be comfortable with who I am physically. I was born tall- 4-5 inches taller than the average Asian girl. The problem with that is first, clothes that look okay on a short person look really slutty on me which is why I always settle on granny clothes, secondly I can't wear heels without feeling like a monster (like today) and thirdly, as shallow as it sounds, it's hard to find a guy who is taller than you.
I was born with hourglass curves, as my friend put it, she's never seen an Asian with my physique- which is quite unlike the adored Chinese waif boy body: the perfect waist-hip ratio is a 71%, and I came out to be about 68-69% which means I'm actually better than perfect- which is laughable in itself. How many times are you ever called better than perfect? My friend and I laugh at ourselves- we call ourselves mutant Asians due to our physical makeup.
It also doesn't help that I'm going to HK in a few hours where nothing fits me and I'm considered 'fat' in their standards.
I'm not looking for sympathy, compliments or anything of the sort in writing this down. I've always felt this way- I remember my mom telling me that wearing shorts to church was disrespectful and I became a little bitter when I saw girls shorter than me from softball teams sporting rather short shorts. So I'd play the 'holier than thou' card- at least I'm wearing something that's decent and am glorifying God with my relatively modest dress while their shorts are not 'God approved' when in fact, I was just harbouring a bitterness of seeing them entirely comfortable in their own bodies, and I not of mine.

Rin, I bought you that dress because when I tried it on to see how it fit, I could not bring myself to wear something that revealing but knew it would look beautiful on you. You see, in my head, if I ever saw myself wearing that, I'd feel like a stumbling block but seeing you in it, makes me think that everyone would call you beautiful.
I was right.
And I always feel inferior because of it.
And I start hating myself for feeling inferior, for who likes a person who doesn't exude confidence and love themself for who they are? I love myself as a thinker/intuitive/thoughtful person but when it comes to the physical, I always feel guilty; I know it's ironic since fashion is all about visuals.. I also find it ironic that my roommate and friends have been trying to build up my self esteem by making me embrace what I was born with, while the church sometimes makes me feel ashamed of myself.
It's why, if I could be anyone for a day, I'd be someone with real confidence.



How can you tell fondness from love?
I think I loved him all along.

I vowed that I would no longer feel the way I did, but it all comes flooding back.


One thing I have never been able to understand, is the human capacity to love.
4:17am

I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And I'm back, kids.
Until Saturday morning at least and then I'm jetting off again.
This is all going by too fast.
I feel a little schizo. Just this morning I was in my dark apartment room cleaning- busy city, busy life and now I'm free in the quiet snowy suburbs of toronto without the burdens of school weighing down on me. Weird.

But it feels so good.

Confessions of a Wallflower

Movie still from a Chinese film called 'Perhaps Love' coming out on dvd Dec 18. This image just sold me. I'm getting it though I've never seen it before- apparently it's like an Asian version of Moulin Rouge and it conveys all aspects of love very well.

Listening to Boys of Summer by Ataris. Every time I hear this, I wish I was in a shiny red convertible with the top down- streaming hair, cloudless skies, endless road.


I feel really depressed right now.
Maybe it's because I was stupid and instead of doing my finals, I stayed up till 3am baking and decorating unhappy gingerbread men with missing limbs and wrapping them and placing them into envelopes which I then drew and wrote a personalized note for each recipient.
And I overslept today and on top of that frozen rain came down yesterday and I had so many problems walking to church while holding an umbrella battling the avenue winds and trying to protect my christmas cards. At church I ended up setting up the welcoming table as well as usher in people for worship and had to maintain traffic flow for our biannual Communion. And then afterwards had to go home to go to a critique at school. So I've been on my feet all day and I've had nothing to eat all day. I'm so tired.
And now I have to start studying Arts of China.

People ask me if I'm excited about Christmas. I can't even look at the future right now because there's so much crap I have to do in the present. Every year since I've been attending Parsons, Christmas doesn't really feel like it means anything because I'm so focused on school I forget all else. Plus by the time Parsons is finished with us for the Fall semester, we're all exhausted, tired, stressed out and sick. Some Christmas.
I havent done any shopping for anyone nor do I know what to get anyone or can be really creative with it because school is just zapping up what creative brain cells I have left.

What's different is that unlike last year in which I was hating all of December and wanting to return home, this year I've really been able to take ownership of the place I live in. I can't believe I'll be going 'home' this Thursday- it seems like summer was just yesterday. What happened?
Oh right, I'm starting to live.
I've finally begun to enjoy New York for what it is- the food and the people. Yes, food and people. I love the freedom that I have the privilege of- I don't have to ask my parents for the car- I can just pop out wherever and whenever without the consent of anyone but myself. And I've really become fond of my apartment for it's location- seriously do not have to wander out of a ten block vicinity. When I say I live in the heart of Manhattan, I really mean I live in the heart of Manhattan. It's better than Union station in Toronto.

So now 'home' is defined by three places: New York, Toronto and Hong Kong. Yes I still call Hong Kong 'home' because I really do love that city despite all the pollution and boy-body girls (haha). Though it may not be as familiar as it once was to me, many of my memories lay in that city waiting to be revisited this Christmas. Thus I am torn with what to do this summer. I want to intern in HK during the Olympics since everyone around the world will be there, I want to go back to Toronto to spend time with friends and family and I want to stay in New York to continue building the seedling relationships I've made over the semester.
I wonder if I'll still love Hong Kong or is it just a memory that I love?
I wonder if all my life I'll be deviating from one home to the next. If home is where the heart is, well home is many places for me for all the people I hold most dear is where I call home. Home was never really a tangible thing- home is so much more than a bunch of bricks and wood stuck together.


The other day my friend and I were eating 'ja jeung mien' in K-town- ja jeung mien being the fried noodles with sauce and diced onions and beef cubes- made by Chinese tailored for Koreans. Anyway, she gave me this analogy and accompanying conversation,

"There was once a man who said he would marry any girl who could eat a whole bowl of ja jeung mien without getting any of the sauce on her lips. Many girls tried but they couldn't do it. One day he had noodles with this one girl who got it all over her face. He wiped off the sauce off her face and married her."

"So what's the moral of the story?"
"That you don't always know what you want," That's Henry Cloud for ya. XD
"So why is it that you want what you don't want and you don't want what you want?"
"I don't know."

And we continued eating our noodles.



That night my friend decided to take me to a club.
I've never had girls rip apart the way I dress. Ever.
One was even eager to do it- I could sense a bit of malice in all that she criticized about me for since my 'knowledge' was in that of feminine/maniacal/costume dress while she in the more urban/normal/cliche/club stuff. She seemed like she wanted to show me how much she knew about club attire and would take pleasure in the fact that I was totally ignorant of it all.
It's not that I'm hurt by their comments as I am intrigued by the fact that back when I hardly ever socialized, I dressed for myself only- world of one. And now somehow in having to 'cross worlds' I'd have to alter my change of dress?
Apparently now, I have to get nicer boots, shorts that aren't granny shorts and... something else which I can't remember. Probably a top.
None of it feels very me. I felt very 'un Sam' that night.

The club itself was an interesting experience. A little too hyper sexualized to the point it seems to easy to get what you want.
On the other hand, that night, I relived some old wounds of the past. I was made fun of in Grade five by my friends who criticized how I danced since we were doing some performance to 'Get Down' by BSB. And they all ganged up on me to tell me how I was doing the moves wrong- ever since then I never danced (therefore I don't know how to either- unless you call spasms as 'dance'). So I stood awkwardly while my friends danced that night. As much as they tried to make me dance, I refused to. I was torn. On one hand I did want to try but experiences of the past stopped me from doing so. On the other hand, I was wondering why I was so caught up in something that happened....ten years ago??? I don't know- but I can't. I feel like if I didn't dance for those ten years- I first, don't know how to and if I did try, I don't want people to laugh at me. At the same time, I didn't want my friends to think that I wasn't having a good time since I wasn't dancing. I didn't dance not because of them but because of things that were beyond them.
I don't know, I seriously have to get over this.
Why are a bunch of grade five kids dictating this sliver of my life?

My friend and I revisited the bar again, calling the two guys we met the first time we went together to tell them that we were going there and they could swing by if they wanted to. We didn't expect them to but the bar was booming with groups of people just hanging out, talking and laughing. My friend and I ended up along the hallway at a table rather than at the bar counter and had some rather disappointing watermelon soju (not enough pulp). Her coworker joins us with some muscley gym guy who was quite... stubby. lol Anyway halfway through I became quite glazed over because the gym guy was kinda boring- at least he would never turn to address me despite my tries to talk and my friend's coworker ended up talking to other guys.
And then suddenly some guy makes an enthusiastic 'hello!'- initially I didn't recognize him but realized it was one of the guys that we met the first time- but this one I didn't get a chance to talk to the first time since his friend who got my friend's number was sitting between us and it was difficult to talk with so many people around. We greet both of them saying how surprised we were that they actually showed up. I didn't realize how tall one of the guys was while the other one was severely short.
Anyway, the coworker and gym guy come back with more drinks including Baileys on the rocks for me (a steve recommendation... I actually tried it at his house hahahaha) and we add in more chairs at this tiny table.
I ended up spending the entire time talking to this one guy- the one who I didnt get a chance to talk to last time. He's an interesting character- Filipino guy who worked as an investment banker making $100,000 a year and decided that it was a stupid job and quit to try acting. We share a mutual interest in traveling and ended up talking a lot about different places we've visited- I asked him what his favourite city and country was- he had too much of a hard time trying to figure them out, but decided Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia was his favourite, as for country, he had no answer to. He told me about his poetic experiences in Cambodia and I told him why Hong Kong subways rock.
Then my friend, the two guys and I ended up talking about our retarded IDC 'Designing Culture' class and explained to them our final projects in which the Filipino guy seem to get so into, I asked him if he was ridiculing me.
My friend (I should honestly give her a name) started glazing over due to lack of sleep so we told them we had to leave despite their exclamations that it was so early (2am??).
And we got up and left.
I told him that he didn't answer my question and to tell me what his favourite country was the next time we meet.


As soon as we exited the bar, my friend exclaims, "Why didn't he get your number???"
I told her I'm not in control of that- not my problem if he doesn't. I told her that I was tired if asking and if people want it, they can ask and I'll give but I'm not asking anymore. If he asked that night, I would have given him my number but because he didn't too bad. Not my loss.
"But you guys talked one on one for sooo long! He had plenty of chances to ask!"
Yeah well I already was quite open in our conversation so I didn't do anything wrong.

In the end, women were designed to be pursued and to be lead by men. The more I talk to girls in relationships, the more I realize this. Although they put up a front of independence, they just want to be 'ruled' over and lead.
Sometimes I wonder if it's worse to be the guy or the girl. Although the girl makes it blatantly obvious that she's interested, she cannot do the initiating- therefore she must remain on that side of the boundary while the guy, though he has to have the courage to ask and perhaps be rejected, can be relatively active and can do something to change the circumstance while the girl can only drop hints.
I'd make a good man. LOL. I hate waiting, I like to be active.

He messaged me first today, FINALLY.
-To thank me for my Christmas card which consisted of the envelope and sad gingerbread man. When I gave it to him he said he'd read the message right there and then and to make it more awkward, started reading it aloud until I told him to stop. We talked for a bit and then I gave him my well wishes and said goodbye for a month.

Upon looking at my encounters the past semester, I've realized that despite my maturity and depth in certain matters of life, my view on dating and guys is extremely shallow. And I guess that's because I haven't experienced anything to understand and since I haven't experienced, the maturity level in this sector is really young. I still think like a visual person despite my short list of things required in a husband. But in dating, I really am visually driven and I know it sounds really lame and shallow to think this way which is why I need to start getting to know more guys to change how I think.
Despite the fact that I'm intimidated by masculine tall guys (because I'm the one usually looking down on people), I really am attracted to those who are taller than me. Perhaps it's because I still have that childish way of thinking of the Disney prince who is like 6' and the skinny princess who's about a head shorter than him and could gaze up at him while he envelopes her in his arms. Yeah, as you can see, I have a really twisted, romanticized view on physically what a couple should look like because I've never had any experiences in reality.
Yet if you asked me what attracts me about him, I would have said his looks and the Filipino guy because he's tall.

Therefore I need to start dating to make sure this part of my life is as mature as the rest of it. I'm really 'deep' in some areas of my life while the others are just as immature as a kindergarten.

Okay my roomie just msged me from her bf's place asking what kind of guys I like while I was writing this post. It's scary that we are always on the same wavelength despite being a hundred blocks from each other.

The Extravagant Gesture// I Dreamed a Dream// 'Makeover'// No Title// Flaky Friends: The Egg Tarts in Life

I know I'm slow but I really like the video to the song Apologize by One Republic. It's screams me and my roomies' aesthetic. I also like the string instrumentals.
-----------------------------------------------

The Extravagant Gesture
If you have time, read this. God is extravagant- every part of creation just screams God as Creator. If we look at human design, we fall so short of God's ability to design. I realized why:
in God's eyes, He sees everything as equal.
in the eyes of Man, we see everything in a hierarchical pyramid.
We see some things as of great value: gold, silver, diamond, oil and ironically, abuse and misuse them.
But in God's eyes, everything is the same. The intricacy of a single leaf is as beautiful and wondrous as the towering mountains of Guilin.

This is, where I realize, is our single most fatal flaw in human design. My dad is an environmental engineer, specifically, waste management.

But what is waste?

What waste is to Man is not waste in God's eyes. For if you examine the life cycle of a cherry blossom tree- how could you say that the cherry tree is wasteful if only five of its hundred thousands of petals take root? Who can say, in all its beauty, that the cherry blossom tree is wasteful? It is because God designed closed and perfect systems that we see that the tree is not 'wasteful'. The petals fall, nourish the soil and in turn, becomes food for the tree.
In the meanwhile, the systems we have designed have done nothing but harmed the earth.

Waste does not exist on God's vocabulary, only ours.
--------------------------------------------------


I Dreamed a Dream

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting

Yeah what happened to those??? Jk. :P (but not really)
Actually, was there ever a time like that?? HAHA.

So my roomie and I decided to watch Les Miserables on Broadway.
By far the best decision I made a month ago.
We sat second row center balcony.
It has now become my favourite musical by far.
Having seen Phantom (x2), Les Mis, Wicked, Hairspray (x2), Lion King, and Avenue Q, no other musical has touched me as deeply as Les Mis has.
I used to love Phantom first, but I find that Les Miserables is more relatable than the former. We had a stunning cast including the singing voice of Pocahontas as well as a Jean Valjean with a range that could rival Mariah Carey and a really handsome Marius and student leader who my roomie and I were staring at half the time(what girl does not like the whole poet blouse look with rolled up sleeves and an untied cravat????). And omg, we got the Eponine understudy but her voice was like an angel. I was absolutely floored by their voices.
The entire time you could hear people crying. The wonderful thing about Les Mis is that there is not one bad song- every song really does touch people's hearts. In terms of sets and costumes, there's not much eye candy, but the songs are so strong, they can stand alone. We've all felt the sense of loss, grief, hope, wistfulness, love and disappointment. Les Miserables just weaves them all into one story.

My eyes were welling up that I couldn't even see the figures on stage properly. If only art and design could touch people's hearts like music can.
Yeah I can't even begin to describe how amazing it was- words just doesn't do the experience justice.

This is one of my favourites: I Dreamed a Dream

As well as 'A Little Fall of Rain', 'On My Own' and 'Empty Chairs and Empty Tables'

And it's closing on Jan 6. :( I really want to watch it again.
--------------------------------------------------

'Makeover'


You cannot call yourself a true geisha unless you can stop a man in his tracks with a single look.-Mameha, Memoirs of a Geisha

I never really thought anything of that line but my friend aka henry cloud mentor quoted it the other day and I just laughed.

She told me my clothes were grandmother clothes- clothes you'd wear on second dates and not first impressions, and all the colours were in grey/black/tonal shades of grey pinks and greens and neutrals. Why didn't I wear colour?
She said I was doing my eyeliner wrong and that I should even out my skin tone, curl my eyelashes and wear mascara.
I'm too lazy and it takes too much of my time, I said.
Do it for special occasions then, said she.


If I had your body, I'd wear this, she said, holding up what was essentially a piece of silver mesh with strings attached to it.
I'd dress like a total slut and flaunt it if I had your body, said she also.
I told them that this was probably why God didn't give them that body then.



We went shopping for stuff for her sculpture project but it ended up that she tried to show me how to dress (ironic isn't it) and put makeup on.
It was interesting- I felt like I was revisiting my old insecure gawky grade 8-9 self in which I thought dressing to impress guys was important. Have I turned full circle? But the next few days left me wondering whether or not I could marry God-honouring ideals with appealing clothes.
If I had the confidence, I could be a really hot person.
Not hot as in outer looks, I'm talking about attractive on the inside.

My general rule of thumb is that if I would wear it to church, I can wear it anywhere else.

One thing I've learned interacting with a few guys at the bar is that guys are more fickle than girls. And their dating philosophy is skewed. It's also interesting to argue with them on their ideas on dating and it seems like the girls understand it a lot better than guys. These are just from observations, not some feminist idea I have.
----------------------------------------------------------


No Title


So I Henry Clouded the guy.




After two weeks of not seeing him, he got baptized sharing his testimony on his struggles with relationships, God, a non christian family and depression.
After service was over I had to constantly be conscious of an opportunity to go up and talk to him when his friends weren't around (just because it's weird to just interrupt). Then a chance came, I went up to him, said congratulations and gave him a hug.
I asked him where he was the past couple of weeks. He then asked me what I was up to. I told him I saw Les Miserables and he told me that he'd seen many Broadway shows and got tickets to see Wicked for $25 through lottery. He said he'd send me the website so I could check it out. I told him we should hang out, he got my number, called me so that I could save his number on my phone.

That's all.
He now has enough information to initiate.
And I guess I can't do much now but wait.
Someone back home asked me where I got the confidence to do that, I said I didn't but I made it a goal to do so.


You must think I'm boy crazy huh. Throughout this entire thing I've gotten a lot of mixed reactions.
Some people have laughed and asked me "now why would you do that?" to some support from my roomie and friends to a few Christians who were really interested in reading the book to other church members who just scoffed and said that they weren't that easy and desperate and that they would wait for God to bring them Prince Charming. On Sunday, a girl on my welcoming team was interested in my Henry Clouding so we went for lunch to talk more about it.

In my defense to any criticism, negativity or judgement based on my doings for the past month, all I can say is that, you don't fully understand the environment that I'm living in. I can't say that I know entirely what I am doing, because I don't. In New York it's very hard to meet guys- let alone straight guys especially at a fashion school. It's even harder to get to know people at church because our fellowship AND small group is based by school so I don't get to know people really outside of my school.
And hello, I'm in New York where there are millions of people with millions of opportunities to get to know people. It's also not the only sole activity I do outside of school. Yes I write about it a lot here but I've also been attending small groups, going to watch musicals, working at my internship, baking, spending time with different groups of friends, sleeping over at Jess's, doing homework, and watching movies. This is just one part of my life I chose to stress.

Plus if no one is willing to really test out this Cloud theory, I'm going to do it. Because what's the point in reading a book without really any action?
----------------------------------------------


Flaky Friends: The Egg Tarts in Life


Since my roomie now has a bf and has made his place a second home, I rarely see her. She says that it's to give me room to work and whatever but all that I've done is found a replacement for her.

I hate getting emotionally attached because I depise feeling dependent on someone. I love my roommate but since she has a bf, I feel like I've become a minor character. So what do I do? I run out and surround myself with other friends to water down this feeling of dependency.
I hate waiting, hoping and thinking of a person to go online so I can talk to them and hinging my mood on conversations with other people. I hate getting excited when particular people sign on and hope that they would message me first voluntarily, without having me to intitiate. You don't understand how I can get so emotionally attached to someone- I'll never express it but there are ways I try to preserve a moment, history of them.

What I often end up doing is pushing them away to avoid getting hurt.

What makes it worse is this: one of my greatest pet peeves, formed from people I've interacted with this year, are flakes. I HATE flakes:
People who are people pleasers and promise to get together, only to cancel out on you half an hour before the schedule date.
I know two of such friends, ironically they're one of my closest friends.

What I end up doing is being half of myself and being more emotionally detached: what I do is when they propose with great enthusiasm that we meet up to do this or that, I just say "okay" although I'm excited inwardly. But to avoid myself from being disappointed if the proposition does not follow through, I don't show any excitement- I just act indifferent.
So much to the point that one time a friend said that she wasn't coming over for whatever reason.
I told her "okay whatever"
She said, "Aw sam, I know you really want me over"
I said, "No I really don't care if you come or not."

It pisses the heck out of me when people flake- it shows me that they really do not respect me and my time and that all they are trying to do is please people but do not have the capacity to do so or time management skills. It also shows me that they're really immature.


'Friend B' asked me today in the afternoon if I wanted to eat at the dorm with her, I said sure. At night, my 'Friend C' calls to ask if I had eaten yet, so I asked 'Friend B' if we were still going to the dorm, she started hesitating and saying how she thinks she may go to fellowship, so I cut her off and just tell Friend C that I could eat dinner with her.

People can piss me off so much.
I know her: she tries to disappoint me before I ever disappoint her. Except I've done nothing to disappoint her so why is she trying to wound me?

When I become close with a friend, on one hand I'm really eager to talk to him/her, on the other, I want to hold them at arm's length so they don't realize that they have some power over me.

I watched Good Will Hunting again today to remind me the imperfections of people but how perfect imperfect people can be for each other.


There are so many things I want to say to the people who I hold most dear to me, but I'm scared. I'm scared that if I show how much they mean to me, they'll run scared to see that my emotional detachment comes from defense. I'm scared that if I tell them what irks me about them, I'll be too vulnerable.

Omg it's 2am.

Bearer of Conversations

Click

Sometimes I draw because I'm bored, other times to stay awake, sometimes to experiment with other techniques and forms, and when I feel inspired when looking at other people's work.
And then sometimes it's just a physical manifestation of how I feel.

I drew this yesterday upon 'meditating' on the fact that often when I go out to meet people, I often am the one who holds the conversation together. A few people know me as someone who asks really random questions from "if you could have any superpower, what would it be?" to "if you could be any nationality other than your own, what would you be?" to "if you could be anyone for a day, who would you be?" to the classic "what are your top five movies?" (I like to gauge people using that one).

I ask random questions that act as a vehicle to somehow propel a dry/stale/awkward conversation forward in hopes of landing on a topic of mutual interest or understanding.

But it's exhausting. I'm tired of having to try and prod answers out of people or try to make them take initiative in engaging themselves in the conversation.

Let me tell you, I wasn't like this freshmen year. My roommate, a few weeks ago said to me,
"Sam, your face has changed since I met you,"
"What? You mean I got fatter?"
"No it's not something physical. You've become more.... friendly and warmer."

I guess that's what Cloud calls the 'open face'?

People like me. We always think people are judging us negatively when in fact it's not really so- they're just as afraid of making bad first impressions themselves. I've realized that generally, getting people to like you is pretty easy. In the most cynical sense, all you have to do is hold up a mirror in front of their face. What do I mean? I mean that if you talk about them and make them talk about themselves and their interests, they'll like you because you feed their ego/vanity/need to be listened to and understood.

So now when I meet people. I just fire away the typical questions,
how are you doing, where do you live, where do you work, where do you go to school, what's your major, what do you want to do afterwards, how do you like new york, do you ever think of moving or staying here....

And they talk, all I do is soak it in. Yet I can never remember exactly what any of them say- there are so many of them that I get them all mixed up.

It's funny, but they never ask me. So all I do is nod and ask another question. They feel engaged in the conversation but I don't. And when there's that brief awkward silence when the topic is finished, I wait, pause and hope that they would take initiative and start talking about something without having me to say anything, but they don't so I have to quickly search through my filing cabinet of random questions to ask- and it sounds really out of context. Frick, conversations are not supposed to be one way like an interrogation in disguise. Have you noticed that the friendliest people are the ones who are the ones who reach out to other people? And others flock to them because they want to connect and be understood. But who will understand them?

I've just realized that many of my friends don't really know me. And when they ask me a question on their own, it means a lot.

I'm just tired of carrying the conversation.

My Pencil is my Outlet

Click for enlarged view. In response to yet another negative critique- change date to Dec 5- I've lost track of time.
I just want to curl up and wither away.
I hate Parsons. I just want to get out.
I didn't eat lunch- somehow it was a form of punishment and an expression of anger at myself and at this stupid school.
I want to lose weight anyway.








Bored during Arts of China class hence doodling ensues.

Testimonies// Facebook, Facebook on the Wall, Whose the Fairest of them All?

'Zemotion' on deviantart.com takes the most stunning portait photographs. I wouldn't mind having her face.

Well here I am again.
I've been blogging more frequently because things keep surfacing.
Also I was looking around at blogs for something of quality to read but lately there's nothing really substantial out there. People have been posting less probably due to finals or it's stuff I'm not interested in reading- like copy-paste excerpts.

The first time my friend and I were at the bar, she bumped into another friend (let's call him Joe for the sake of simplicity) whom she had not seen for three years. Small world. They started speaking about another mutual friend (let's call him Dan) of theirs who started going to church for the girls and how he likes to preach about it church and christianity to Joe. Joe starts going on this mini rant on how he hates it when Christians start preaching to him and whenever Dan does he would shut him up: "Now Dan knows better not to talk about church because I f*cking made it clear to him not to."
My friend in reply, says that she does not mind when people talk about church as long as they talk about their experience/testimony. If she wanted to know more about the 101 on Jesus and redemption, she'd pick up a Bible to read- why bother listening to the person if they're just going to spew out Bible verses?
Almost forgetting that I was there, she turns around and reminds me that she has nothing against church or christianity. Joe also reiterates that he is not anti-christian but he hates it when Dan starts preaching.
That's fine with me. I understand. Point proven.



So I was reading an article on Gummi's blog concerning the increasing narcissism seen on internet sites like Facebook.
Right before I signed up for Facebook in February/March I typed in 'f' on the url search bar at the top, somehow savouring the fact that 'facebook.com' was not in my cookies/history database. Because I knew, as soon as I sign up, that I'd be checking it at least once a day and every day when I type in 'fa', 'www.facebook.com' would magically appear and I'd scroll down and press enter.
I'm prone to falling into this trap of narcissism- perhaps I already have but there are some things on facebook that I allow myself to do and others, I don't because I know it will become a pursuit of vanity.
I do allow myself to have photo albums although I sometimes question why I put them up in the first place. Honestly, I have them up for four reasons:

1)the photographs all tend to be in my camera and friends want photos and having it on a 'controlled' environment like facebook (webshots is annoying and I dont want to sign up onto other sites) so I upload for them
2)so that people know what I am up to and doing. Bluntly, yes. Narcisstic, yes. I also have a lot of friends around the world so it's the easiest way to summarize. Pictures speak a thousand words!
3)Because I have a lot of subjectively awesome (also art nerd) pictures. And because photography is a hobby, I like putting them up.
4)I'm a visually driven person therefore images make me happy.

No, I do not spend a lot of time concocting up a catchy photo album title- I do tweak things in the albums so they run nicely together but that's about it.



The things I do not allow myself to do include:
1)Changing my profile picture: although sometimes I am extremely tempted to change it, I know that if I start doing so, I will become addicted into finding the most flattering/coolest picture of myself and/or with my friends. And... yeah. I don't want it to get out of control. I see on the news feed people constantly changing their profile picture and it gets a little ridiculous like they're trying too hard to advertise themselves and their artificial awesomeness. Just now, a total of 47 'friends' changed their profile pictures. So that's why I've never changed it. But if you ever see my profile pic change, it's because I just really got sick of the picture.

2) Applications: I got the ice cream one because robyn wanted me to but I'm going to take it down probably because it's just too much for my eyes. There are some really retarded ones out there. Just for fun? Sure. But it's annoying when it takes two minutes to scroll down someone's facebook just to get to their Wall. Although I don't ban them entirely from my profile, I'm trying to be selective.

3) Profile information: One of my biggest pet peeves about facebook, and I know this is going to sound like a personal attack on certain individuals, is when people constantly nitpick and change their interests. Honestly, who gives a darn if you like snowcones, gingerbread men, autumn leaves, laughter, hot chocolate on winter days, oil paint, family gatherings, penguins and velvet black skies? Honestly, no one cares. No one cares if you suddenly had a preference for kiwis over mangoes. On my news feed it constantly says "____ likes snow covered trees" and then a day later it says from the exact same person "_______ likes blueberries"
I've chosen to keep mine really broad: baking, photography, art and whatever because it's something general but not nitpicky enough to really show anything else. People constantly change what books, movies, music and tv shows they like. No one cares. So what if you enjoy 'War and Peace'- good for you.
Seriously, people refine them so much, it's a little obsessive and looks rather needy.


It's why I cherish my blog so much and also why I don't connect my blog to my Facebook. I need that smaller space of privacy despite my blog being public, not that many people know about it. At times I'm tempted to let everyone know so they can know me better, but I know in the end, I'd just end up writing what I think people want to hear or write diluted posts to avoid offending anyone in my proximity.
Facebook is also rather shallow- it does nothing for me but to get to certain events or contact some people (who I can obviously call- well the ones in NY at least) while my blog is really something I can say I love because I've developed it for so long. Trust me, I get bored easily, so this is saying something. Unlike most products that deplete with age and use, my blog gets richer with every post.

Yeah, that's it. Sorry, it turned into a mini rant. :S

Hit[ting on]m(e)n

Listening to the Lust Caution soundtrack. I really like it- soft and sad.

Anyway, if you didn't get the joke of my title, well I guess it just sucks to be you then.
My friend (the one who I call as a stellar example of Henry Cloud philosophy) and I this past Saturday, were supposed to go see Beowulf in 3D but I was stupid and thought the 12pm time was 12am thus we decided to go back to the bar. This time it was a different bartender, so we played up how she and I were there the previous time with the owner hence no carding (this drinking age is ridiculous).

Above the bar there are two televisions constantly playing a movie: last time it was some Marilyn Monroe black and white, this time it was 300.
On our left there were a bunch of Jamaican/black/spanish guys sitting around commenting on the film when my friend butts into the conversation and we start debating on what a 'good film' is. One guy surprisingly gave 'The Notebook' five stars while I gave it 3.5. He gave '300' a 5 and I gave it a 2. Ended up talking about our differences in movie tastes.

Two guys enter- asian as I recall, and they park themselves next to me at the bar. Because I was nervous and didnt want to swivel around, I just didn't look over.
Some time passes, my friend goes to the bathroom, and another guy enters into the bar. I decided, screw it, and smiled at him. He introduces himself: Rick, drummer at this spot not far from the bar. He also gets a watermelon soju and notes how it hits you later although it doesnt' taste like alcohol at all. My friend comes back, I introduce her to him. He tells us about how in London he played with this 6'5" Norwegian guy who was also the king of Norway's bodyguard and has a special cell phone in which if the king was ever in danger, he would drop his sticks and fly right back to Norway.
I know, right? Random.

The group of Jamaican/spanish/black guys now leave and one individual who did most of the talking, came up to us and jokingly accused us of flirting with other guys. He ends up talking to the drummer about the quality of living in some place within the five boroughs. They leave.

My friend and I start talking about '300'. She loved it, I hated it. It was like a watered down version of Gladiator. Suddenly the guy next to me, interrupts into our conversation exclaiming how he can't believe I didn't like the film. It gave me the opportunity to then rotate around to see who those two guys were: the guy who was talking was called John, mixed Chinese and Japanese and a waiter at a sushi restaurant in Alphabet city (which is beyond First Ave). The other was his friend called Michael, a filipino who is currently unemployed and living in Brooklyn. It was their first time there.

This is going to sound retarded but we ended up talking about their top five movies (John's was a bunch of random guy movies while Michael liked movies from the 70's), Lord of the Rings, anime and video games. I know, the nerdiest conversation ever.

Then we did two shots.
He asked for my friend's number.
By the end of the conversation, I started talking less because I was feeling the last shot instantly and was focusing on controlling my head/body. Note to self: take less alcohol to remain in conversation.
Just to keep myself from any accusations, I wasn't drunk, I was still in control (I did the walking in the straight line test) but it just came all of a sudden. Okay, I'm going to stop justifying myself.


Not bad eh, it's not Henry Cloud all the way, but it's getting there. I'm changing my traffic pattern.
--------------------------------------

So earlier on that evening, I was out with my friend, Jess, and her future roommate at Max Brenner's over chocolate and caramel fondue. They started moaning about the lack of guys and we all ended up talking about future weddings, dream engagements, ideal date/ special date/ best normal date, diamonds and all that retarded stuff girls talk about amongst themselves. The funniest of them all was their "Ideal Saturday Morning." When it came to my turn, I told them I never think of ideal weekends, and they insisted that the thought already crossed my mind.
They spoke about their ideal guy: scruffy guitar players who enjoy reading. I said we'll go to Barnes and Nobles and sit at the Starbucks there and find guys. Jess just kept 'pshawing' her way through.
Two days later, yesterday, I went over to her place again to watch half of 'Desperate Housewives: season 3' I was recollecting my experience at the bar, that I wrote above. Jess scoffs at me because it seems so unchristian.
(btw this is how I see it: if there are normal people like my friend and I at the bar, who is to say there won't be other normal people there either?)
She says to me that she doesn't want to think about boys and wants to remain unattached and that they'll come to her because she's attractive as she is already. I said to her, "oh yeah? Without doing anything? Not even smiling?"
Her future roommate, Molly, laughs and echoes the same sentiment.
She says, "Sam, I'm gonna get a serious boyfriend before you do at your bar hopping. I don't want to do bars- you get really gross men."

Do I hear a challenge???

So I said to her, "Oh yeah??? Bring it on!!! Bring it on! We'll see who gets there first!"

Thus that night gave birth to our Group of Three.
The Goal:
-to find a guy who would take me out on three dates and would pay for all three.

The Rules:
-he must be in the tri-state area.
-he cannot be a hook up/set up.
-friends cannot get involved with this.
-photographic evidence must be provided on third date.
-cannot be an established good friend.

Prize: winner is treated to dinner/dessert/activity of choice- essentially a day of spoiling.

Frickin hilarious I tell you. This starts now, and resumes back when Spring semester starts.

I can already hear the alarm bells in certain people who are reading this. No fear, this is all out of fun. Dating should be fun. Dating is not the means to marriage. As I have proven in the above, even at bars which Christians deign as 'sinful', we were debating on which Lord of the Rings installment was the best and which one should have won the 'best picture' award. XD

This is Henry Cloud-ing to the max.
I can't believe I use that as a verb now.
-------------------------------------------

So on Sunday, my Welcoming Ministry leader, whom I gave a copy of 'How to get a Date Worth Keeping' to prior Thanksgiving, read the book and she really enjoyed it. We started talking about it and another one of the welcoming team members was there, and I started talking about his philosophy and now she really wants to read the book too. HAHHA
Dear Mr. Cloud, you should start giving me 5% of what you make from your book.

On the train, the girl who wants to read the book noted that she was also frustrated because her prospects are low too. She doesn't want to date anyone from church because we're always told to see each other as fellow brothers and sisters and both of them said how wrong it seems to be 'hitting' on fellow christian brothers at church.
All I can say is that I agree.
--------------------------------------------------

So I saw Beowulf.
It sucked.
I give it 2/5 stars.
It was in limbo between making animation look real, but if you make animations that imitate reality so closely, then why not use real humans? I felt like I was watching some X Box 360 video clip when you get a new mission goal or something. And the story was lame. They make men look so weak- well, I guess any guy would go for an Angelina Jolie dripping in gold.
They also didn't use the 3d effects to the max. It was okay but I don't really see how the 3D animation differed that much from a normal show. Plus the glasses cost me an extra $2 on admission.



Yeah, so a lot happened this past week. None that I was expecting but a lot did. Since finals are approaching, I've realized that since school is not making me happy, doing more homework will not make me any happier so I might as well have fun in New York while I still have the time.

The Importance of Timing

12pm

I slept over at Jess' place down at the Financial District- it's incredibly calming here since we are elevated above the city- you can see Manhattan stretch out beyond the Art Deco-inspired Chrysler building, the meandering Hudson river with the three bridges running along it. The city, from this view in the penthouse, looks as if it’s standing still. Although Manhattan consists of concrete, asphalt, glass and steel, it oddly is a vision of serenity. Ironically, the overwhelming sense of finiteness and feeling small in such vastness is comforting and quieting.
I guess while running around the city on foot is quite stressful, seeing the city as a whole is calming- it reminds me of God vs. Human perception on life. We always nitpick at the smallest details when in fact what we should be regarding is the story as a whole. And when we see it as a whole, we understand that there is something greater in which we must surrender control to someone who is of limitless power thus giving us a sense of peace.

She told me not to trust him- that if I did intend on pursuing a relationship with him, that he would end up breaking my heart. I asked her why; she said he came off as someone suspicious- someone unwilling to part with the past. I didn’t know what to say- I didn’t expect this kind of a reaction when I told her.
In a very odd sense, I want my heart to be broken. Sadistic, I know, but as wonderful as happiness is, something really draws me into this world of sadness. We approach sadness with a mixture of caution, desire and excitement: though we are told to embrace happiness, those who we think are happy such as celebrities, end up spiraling down in their quest to feel something beyond just mere happiness. Relationships don’t seem worthwhile unless a price is paid- which is why those that have little sadness or turmoil within them, have little substance in them. Because we don’t invest in those particular shallow ones, they can be easily done away with.

Yesterday, as Jess did homework, I watched clips of 2046 on my computer. And suddenly, as if the curtains were drawn and the walls illuminated, I really began to understand the depth of the film. This will make no sense to the majority of people since I don’t really think many people enjoy movies like 2046 for its ambiguousness and heavily laden symbolism. The movie is kept under the veil- you never fully understand the breadth of it all which frustrates the typical American viewer, but if you watch it numerous times, like the Bible, it becomes clearer.
Essentially the movie is about a writer, Tony Leung, who forms romantic/sexual relationships with numerous girls: from Gong Li’s ‘Black Spider’- a woman who reminds him of a past love, to Zhang Ziyi’s high class prostitute who in the beginning seemed to have the upper hand within their lustful relationship but ends up really falling in love with him only to have her heart broken, to Faye Wong the daughter of the hotel owner in which Tony Leung’s character stays at, who falls in love with a Japanese man whom her father despises due to the Chinese-Japanese relationship after WW2. Yet ironically, Tony Leung falls in love with her and writes a story about a place called 2046 in which everyone wants to return to because it is a place to recapture lost memories. No one can fall in love on this train back to 2046- for it is forbidden to do so. The movie is both set in the present (1960’s) and the future (2046) which ironically yearns for the past and uses music as a tool to represent fragments of memory and to enhance the personality of each character.

The mixture of languages used: Gong Li and Zhang Ziyi and a few other supporting actresses spoke Mandarin while Faye Wong and Tony Leung spoke Cantonese and the Japanese boyfriend, well, spoke Japanese. This interesting dialogue in multiple tongues shows the brokenness between the relationships themselves- the misunderstandings though not to be mistaken as miscommunication through language. The one he falls in love with, Faye Wong whom they share the same tongue, is already in love with someone else.

In this story that Tony Leung writes, he places all the women he has encountered into the script. He, himself, plays the part of the Japanese man who falls in love with his android attendant, which is Faye Wong, a relationship that is forbidden on the train back to 2046. The android is perfect except for one flaw, she cannot respond immediately (delayed reaction), for burdens and demands of the everyday life slow her down. Thus when he asks her to leave with him and kisses her, she does not express sadness until ten hours later.

4:07pm
Christmas time is the mark of one cycle within the story’s plot line. Christmas, being a symbolic holiday of the re-bonding and renewal of relationships, enhances the state of loneliness that each character suffers. I love how Wong Kar Wai shoots the Christmas scenes- all in quietness and solitude with nothing but Nat King Cole’s ‘Have Yourself a Very Merry Christmas’ playing quite sadly in the background.
This story that he writes, which he titles ‘2047’, a copy is sent to Faye Wong who reads it and through her father, tells the writer that it’s too depressing and if he could change the ending to something happier. He sits there with pen poised in midair for 100 hours straight- he cannot do it because he’s never known the joy of a relationship fully consummated.

What I did find striking this time when I watched the film was a line from the writer, who was informed that the girl left Hong Kong to pursue her Japanese boyfriend in Japan.
“Love is all a matter of timing. It’s no good meeting the right person too soon or too late.”
Though nothing really profound, it just reaffirmed what I wrote about a couple of entries ago on timing. Timing.
My timing always sucks- I think I need to commit to a place and stay there. I’ve wandered long enough; yet I can’t decide which city to commit to having wandered for so long.


I feel like I just wrote a paper on the dissection of 2046.
Sad.