Thanks everyone for showing up or talking to me on my birthday. I felt like I was the glowing shiny center of attention and I cozily nestled myself in the midst of it. How very nice.

[ esca | 2:34 PM | ]

 

22

[ esca | 9:44 AM | ]

 

What is creativity? Making something out of nothing, or where there previously lacked substance?

While never really carrying pretenses about my own creativity, I’ve always felt that I’ve always been an “idea” guy. Or at least a free standing “opinion” guy, if needs be, such that I can give commentary on just about anything, original “creative” commentary. As someone so very sincerely pointed out to me, could I simply be “a geek who has read so much and come across so many different existing ideas,” that I’m simply regurgitating and reprocessing? For all my rhetoric and all my social commentary, that I’m nothing more than a large echo box that spits out permutations and combinatory blends of ideas espoused long before me? Come to think of it, hasn’t Jon already blogged about feeling this same phenomenon?

Maybe there are really no more honest original ideas left, maybe that’s why the progressive arts and sciences have declined, foraging their efforts into the aesthetically displeasing avant-garde, and into the academically masturbatory fields of non-linear theory(string, queer…oh god, bend over and insert stick up ass! can you actually believe there is a theory called queer? It’s something related to probability, I had a friend who loved it. I think its something about how unlikely low probability events occur above their statistical expectance as a manifestation of a system’s intrinsic tendency to deviate from the equilibrium. You gotta be kidding me. In other words, “yeah, once in a while, something happens that we didn’t expect.”)

That which is actually reactionary, is considered progressive. Its like staring at a large piece of black construction paper which random splattering of chalk dust, and trying to find the meaning of it. Yes I fucking understand it, and I understand that people that subscribe to things like this, do it because they enjoy getting off on themselves, and enjoy being on the inside of something that a lot of people won’t be able to or don’t want to see.

Liberal arts education at top tier schools is 95% academic masturbation. It’s the system giving you a pat on the back for having the capacity to understand the next level, but not having a next level to show you. Welcome to the party, we don’t do shit.

If I am truly devoid of original thought, than so be it. Hegel, Kant, Rousseau, Locke, Mills, Voltaire, Plato, let their ideas roam free then. The dialectic, the categorical imperative, the social contract, on laws, on justice, on republics, on utilitarianism, on rights, on liberties, on ideas and the exercise thereof.

[ esca | 1:11 PM | ]

 

We are nothing more than our emotions, and the desire to shackle our emotions through logic, stems simply from desire to control ourselves. However, it is important that we not shackle ourselves to the extent that we forget what we truly want.

As children, when we lack the innate ability to reason things out, we simply do what we feel and say what we feel. Not only that, but we take what is given and said to us literally. Thus as children we have no need to compromise anything, everything is an absolute.

Have you ever wondered why people have a seemingly intrinsic desire to see things in black and white as opposed to grey? It comes from the childhood that you remember, where everything is simple and understandable, and everything is either good or bad, happy or sad, pleasure or pain. Children have no need to compromise.

It is when we grow up that we learn to associate things and consequently compromise. We learn to associate candy with dentists and weight gain, sports with soreness and injury, learning with homework and study. We learn to mesh basic ideas and concepts together and consequently mesh the emotions they generate inside, bringing down their volume, mellowing their feel. We make it more manageable, we compromise our feelings.

After all, it is more adult like to compromise, it is more formal to control. However, compromise is only a tool for communication with another person if you really think about it. It will be rare to find someone who feels the same way you do, and it may take much longer to even realize this. But everyone understands logic? Right? Why express oneself through our whirlwind emotions and face the risk of being misunderstood? Much better to strip that which is personal into something simple and logical. Less is more, less is more. Communication is really nothing more than ordering our feelings into a universal language that other people can speak and comprehend. However, the translation is a very flawed process, with meaning getting lost at each and every step. Sometimes so much that the original intended message is gone.

However, you should never compromise your feelings internally. They should remain free flowing inside. Have you seen people express the depth of their emotions? That depth of the uncompromised emotion? Unfortunately, this comes out too often as hate, probably because hate and anger is such an emotion that we sometimes feel no need to compromise.

The funny thing is, I think you have it backwards. You would want people around you to be logical, because then you can understand how people around you function. If you function logically, you can probable understand your motivations and movements, but you may not feel right. Especially when you find that it is your logic that compels you to act against you desires. The feeling you get from trying to convince yourself from doing what you feel, is really no different then the feeling you get when someone else is forcing you to go against your wishes. Right? Same feeling?

If you follow your emotions, you may not make sense to others, and you may not be able to chart or extrapolate your path, but you will feel content. Perhaps you are so used to letting your mind take the credit and accountability for your actions, when you follow your desires and it doesn't make sense, you question in your mind why you did what you did. When really in those situations, you should consider if you feel content with what you did.

When I mentioned that I think I try to deceive myself about what I want, I think I do it to protect my desires. I have also become so engrained with the idea that I need to control my emotions and form myself into a logical sensible being, that the stronger I feel about something, the more I question its validity. If I want something really badly, I look for reasons to stay away from it. Hence, I obscure what I really want.

[ esca | 10:01 AM | ]

 

I have a new pet plant, his name is Herbert. I don’t know what species of plant he is, but he has dual color leaves that are predominantly yellowish-green spreading out from the center vein towards the deeper forest green edges. Herbert is a very upstanding plant that adds life to my place, but he’s dying….or rather he’s starting to lose a lot of leaves. I’m not sure if its because I move him around a lot, or he’s not getting enough sun, or if I’m over watering him. How much water do plants need in general? I check the soil and it always seems moist, but I add a little water just to make sure he’s not thirsty.

I get the feeling that if I were less concerned with Herbert, and consequently less likely to interfere with his simple life(soak up sun, soak up water) he’d be ok. Its probably my over attentiveness that is problematic. The same thing happened with fish I used to have. I think I need something more demanding but than at the same time I feel apprehensive of taking up the responsibilities of a more care intensive companion. A friend had told me a horrible story of her suitemate killing a kitten in about a week due to neglect.(after which she got a second one…someone stop this madness) As a matter of fact, when explicit expectations or responsibilities are thrust upon me, I feel enclosed and desiring to escape what’s asked of me.

I am a living breathing contradiction in still motion.

[ esca | 1:32 PM | ]

 

Lately, I've been going to sleep at such an hour that my dream cycles peak when my alarm clock goes off(7:15...err). This gives me an opportunity to peer into the psychotic mesh of images and scenarios of my dream world. Usually they are fairly vivid, and disturbing enough that my initial reactions are of the wtf variety. I'm usually annoyed at my alarm clock for ripping me from a dream reality into this dreary one, that I slam the snooze and crawl back into my sheets. Sometimes within these ten minute snooze intervals I can fall back to sleep and start dreaming again. This thoroughly cleanses my mind of any memory of my dreams when I finally emerge from my bed, tired and groggy and usually a tad late for work.

I don't think there is any real meaning or lessons that one can find in your dreams. However, I do believe that dreams are highly personal and the feelings that one gets from your dreams reflects some of the feelings you have about yourself. Nightmares reflect fear and anxiety, while pleasant dreams reflect happiness and direction. Dreams can set your tone for the rest of the day. I feel like my dreams are hurried and rushed, confusing yet seemingly decipherable.

Its as if some important message has flashed before my eyes that I've just missed, and I'm desperately seeking a way back. Its like watching the favorite of your glass menagerie shatter before you and then sitting down to piece it back together. Its impossible, but you sit there anyways, as if there were some meaning to be had in trying.

[ esca | 9:44 AM | ]

 

Went up to UCLA two weekend ago to see Vu again. Turned out to be a very interesting weekend which also involved a spontaneous Dartmouth reunion of Edward Kim, Andrew Chu, and Rich Park. Dartmouth Dartmouth Dartmouth, oh-ONE!

Something doesn't add up. I've done all my math and rechecked my answers, but somehow the end result of my soon to be 22 years feels wrong. I don't know what I'm looking for...but I know I'm searching for something. I have this deep wanderlust afflicting me inside that compels to not sit still. Like The Alchemist, by Paulo Coehlo. Great book, read it, thanks izzie. I feel like I want to turn the corner on something, but its as if I'm merely circling a square building endlessly. I'm close to my dream, or rather someone else's a dream, a pleasant blend of soft hues and shades that has me ripping out my hair and screaming inside.

[ esca | 10:05 AM | ]

 

Upon this stormy fallow crest,
A cloaked dark rider slowly rests,
Peering through his rain soaked vest,
A heartfelt sigh escapes his chest
Hear me now, thou surely jest,
Upon this soul thou seek to test,
Strive I did to fare my best,
Against this never ending quest,

Has my fate so aimlessly,
Turned its guarded back to me,
This curse upon my family tree,
And all my love has come to be,
A spoiled and wicked travesty,
A gloom vain mark that ceaselessly,
Blots and mars all one can see,
Once beauty far beyond to thee,

Hearken thou, and see me through,
What ailments now affect me true,
If only thou would fain to do,
And see that which I wish you knew,
Surely thou would truly rue,
What makes my simple heart bleed blue
Return me where my love once grew,
Afar beyond this solitude

[ esca | 3:49 PM | ]

 

I miss you. I miss being close to you. I miss just standing by your side. Endeavor as I may to impose my distance, the shadows come clawing at night.

For while I grew up alone and upon my own devices, it was through only my ignorance that I had my deliverance. While I had nothing, I knew not of anything more nor greater. In my solitude, I had only discontent and yearning. An idle yearning perhaps, from which dreams and hopes flow freely. Now I know only dread and despair. The despair that only a soul can know from after which it has been bathed in warmth and kindness and cruelly wrought back into the unrelenting cold. If I were once only half awake through my dementia, let me not be too proud to open my eyes, nor to fear starring at the festering trail that I have since cut. For walk this path I must, till the end of my penance draws near.

I miss you, I miss you so very much. I cry out for you, with only my ravenous echoes as response. I close my eyes and whisper softly to the wind such that I may find you again.

[ esca | 2:44 PM | ]

 

Who ever said that honesty is the best policy was either very insightful, or simply lucky enough to never been in a morally ambiguous situations.

I mean, if I just reflect upon the amount drama that I've been in the over the last few months as a direct result of someone or somebody not knowing or not able to get the whole story...geez.

Anyways, so let's say hypothetically you have a friend, but something about them bothers you. Nothing major, it maybe something as simple a person who taps his or her foot in an annoying fashion. Its almost as if you want to ask them to stop, just a favor, as opposed to criticism, however, its hard to justify bringing up the issue. People can take things the wrong way.

Is the best policy then just to bring it out in the open? Just to say, hey you know what? *This* really bothers me, *this* makes me upset, whenever you do *this* I feel very small and unimportant to you. Your obliviousness frustrates me and I want to scream in your face.

[ esca | 1:22 PM | ]