Tell me why?

Why?

Why what?

I have no idea what I’m writing right now as I try to get into the habit of putting letters into words, typing out sentences and trying to focus on something that would make something.

I’m having trouble trying to focus as my mind is just empty of anything pertinent, of anything at all that is worth mention.

I’m sure as I just type along, line by line, space by space; I’ll come up with something to say. It just takes time.

Writing like this is getting more and more difficult for me. It’s just purely drivel, stream of conscious flowy flowing of whatever flows in this flowiness of flow.

But it just doesn’t flow, stream, or download into my fingers.

My mind tries to test my finger’s dexterity. It’s not.

Not at all, hence my difficulties of strumming and chord playing. It just doesn’t work.

I thought it would be the rhythm also, but it is many things and I’m just handicapped by it.

* * *

New section. New break.

Let’s try this again.

What is it that I want to say? What do I want to say?

As I come close to the end of the year, it’ll be another year gone, and a new one to look forward to.

It’s just a blank slate of open possibilities. What is to come? What will happen?

I can only dream, guess, hypothesize, but until it actually happens and pass, I can’t truly say what is to be of my ’12 year.

* * *

It’s back again. The original.

Am I your fire. Your one desire.

Before it was by the contestants, this, now by the boys from the backstreets.

Is it a sign? Is it a thing that I should pay attention?

Most of these entries since its inception have been about this little thing, my fire, my one desire; this little crazy notion of love and the one. The romantic in me just won’t go away even though I really do away with it.

I don’t see it happening anytime soon. It’s just there, nagging. Nagging.

When am I getting married? was the question that was thrown out to me.

I don’t know.

I was told by my little cousins that I should fine a female version of me to get with. In all honestly, I agree. I need a female me.

There are many that come close, quite a few. B5 is pretty close to me in many ways, she would make a good fit. I’m sure there are quite a few others that have crossed my paths and I’m sure that I had a fleeting little crush on them at one time or another.

I’m just drawn to them along with many other girls.

Blah.

Blah.

Blah.

How to love

It’s a soft shock to me that in a way I know what it is that I need to do, I just don’t follow through.

My advice is sound. It’s the same as I would give others given my predicament. Exactly the same and yet, here I am, ignoring it.

I guess this happens with everyone that dispenses these little pearls of wisdoms, they just don’t take their own advice.

Why is that?

Honest answer: I have no fucking clue.

* * *

Losing my mind. My own little thought train just derailing on its way to Sanity Focusville killing all that was onboard.

My mind wanders into a mess, nothing to do, nothing to see. It just lacks whatever focus and is falling into a rut rut that I don’t know how to get out of now.

I need something to do, I need to finish my projects, whatever they may be.

I just need some sort of plan, direction, for the day, for the hour, for the minutes and seconds that I am here. I just need something.

Fobby fobilicious unpacking the things that she needs to do to work, to take notes, write letters in her character heavy script that I’m illiterate at.

She buckles down, checking her time, writing her letters.

People don’t write letters anymore, by hand, stuff in envelopes, sticker on their stamps and leave it out for the postman.

It’s a dying art with the constant need for instant results. Texts. IMs. Emails. Pings and what nots.

It’s a dying slow way of doing things, but in a way, I guess that is what romance is all about, the dying art of things.

* * *

Blah!

* * *

My last day here.

Getting ready to go. Avoiding the mob of the Black Friday Shoppers like they are lepers.

I’m sitting here, alone again in this lil’ coffee shop doing my little diddle.

It seems that I have gain a few fans during my short time here, having them see me most every day here since I’ve been back.

From the older Korean owner to the recent High School Graduate, who I like to call Shanika, just because I just named her in an earlier post.

Or maybe they just have to greet me with smiles and ask how my holiday was because they work in the customer service industry.

It’s quiet today, even though it seems like the world is alive outside. Everywhere seems pack with the consumerism of the world, each playing into the scripted traditions of merchandising and materialism.

It is a buyers world out there right now, each buying anything they can get their hands on for the cheap.

Some even risking their lives just to get “stuff”.

Is stuff really that important to risk your life for? Is stuff really that important for me to brave the crowds just so I can get something that I probably won’t use much or need anyway? Probably not. Most definitely not.

* * *

It’s sunny today as opposed to the overcast and the rain that I have been comfortable with for the past couple of days.

My body gave out on me yesterday, or the night before, coming down with the familiar fatigue and illness that I usually get. I guess I should just pop a pill and try to get a good night’s sleep. It helped me before and so that should be the plan.

Overall, I really did enjoy my short stay here up in the Northwest. It is no different than the usual year-end stays of the past couple of years. A lot of family time, family feasts and a lot of alone time or even some simple times with my mom, sharing a meal together.

It’s nice.

The saying, You never know what you’ll miss till it is gone. It’s true.

I never thought I would miss these things, but I do. Growing up doing it a lot, I guess I took it for granted. The home cooked meals, sitting at the dinner table with my mom eating, the car rides of just small talk and the time of big family gatherings.

I guess in a way, I just have to give myself the opportunity to miss these things. If not, then I’ll take them for granted again.

Life. It’s just funny how it works.

Why can’t notice how important these things are when they are just right in front of our face?

The importance of family, of a home cooked meal and sitting down together as a family and eating it. The big family get togethers, not just immediate family, but all family, extended families, uncles, aunties, cousins.

It’s just times like these that makes me wonder if I’ll ever do it, if I’ll ever pick up all my stuff and move back here.

Sometimes, it crosses my mind. I know when I was back here this past summer, I thought about it. It was on my mind, to come back, and see what kind of life I can make for myself. But at that time, it was the nature that was calling me.

This time, here, this past week, I don’t think it ever really crossed my mind or that I seriously thought about moving back up here.

Sure there was some talks about it with my little cousins, but that was more for the benefit of my mom to set me up with someone if I ever moved back here.

I don’t know.

Again, there’s a possibility of things moving towards this direction, but there’s always should be that possibility along with many other possibilities; living till my dying days in Los Angeles, picking up and moving to Chicago, New York, or being a wanderer and going abroad, China, Japan, Europe. The possibilities are endless and in a way, if I think about it, they are all viable possibilities.

The answer truly is I don’t know.

Sometimes that is just the best answer. You just don’t know until the time it comes to knowing. That’s a surprise I’m willing to go for.

* * *

Life.

I just don’t know where it is going sometimes and sometimes I’m just a little impatient or frustrated with the not knowing.

I’ve gotten better of just letting things happening, going with the flow and seeing where it takes me. As of right now, I have no complaints, I’m happy with the direction it is heading. It fits. It works.

But I know me. Once things get stale, I get antsy.

I guess we will see.

* * *

Maybe it is just that I have the time and the opportunity to do it more often, to focus, but it really does seem that I’ve been writing a lot more or at least blogging more.

With my latest writing project finished, just waiting for comments to come in, I just sit and blog away. Typing away my life away again.

Maybe it is the end of the year also and that I’m in my reflective mood and that is just giving me something to ramble on and on about.

Maybe. Just maybe.

* * *

Look for the dream that comes back. It’s your destiny.

Maybe a lot of people has been getting that fortune cookie too ’cause it seems a lot of interwebbers have been searching for the phrase and ended up being redirected to my page.

Or maybe it is lyrics.

I don’t know, but I just find it funny what people are searching for and how they land on my page.

I will get a lot of interwebbers from people doing a search for Gillian Chung also. I wrote an entry way back win, ’06, I believe about my fascination and love for Twins. It was innocent, but I know that many of these searchers aren’t that innocent.

They are looking for the nude photos of here during the Edison Chen scandal. I don’t blame them. I was one of them when the story first broke.

She’s cute.

* * *

My heart grows heavy
Sinking, falling into the abyss
It’s drowning with the weight of you

My mind turns soft
Squishy, smashed in its cave
It’s rotting with the thoughts of you

I pick up my heart
Lifting, pulling it up into the light
I shake you off, casting you aside.

I harden my mind
Toughening, fortifying it with hope
I forget you, casting you out of my mind

2011-11-25

* * *

Sweet sweetness of Caroline.

Where is my Caroline? Donde?

I just want to find her so I can just sing my sweet sing songs to her.

Touching me. Touching you.

Oh, Sweet Caroline

Where are our good times that never seem so good?

* * *

It’s another late start for me today. Way late. I’ve been way played in my daily doings up here and I don’t know how time has gotten away from me.

But I am here again, typing at my heart’s content.

Trying to get back to the mindless ramblings of lyrical sing-songs of just random focus twing tangs of my heart and mind.

Little beeps, beeps distracting me as I am keep a cyber company that is over a thousand miles away.

Just typing away, trying to figure it out, keep me occupied.

What is it going to be today? What will be my content today?

Yesterday was an exercise on a focused diatribe. Today, back to my mindless ramblings?

Maybe. Maybe indeed. It seems to be shaping up that way.

Hmm…let’s try an exercise.

* * *

She stands behind the counter twirling her hair, waiting for her next customer. She’s not here by choice, but more by necessity.

I’m sure she would rather be someplace else, off in college, cramming away before the short break of Thanks..

I don’t know her name, but I’ll call her Shanika, even though she doesn’t look close to a Shanika. She’s more along the lines of a Kieoko or a Mei Li. But today, Shanika will suit her just fine.

Young and bright eyed. She still has that sense of innocence about her.

Shanika graduated high school just a short few months ago, but she wasn’t able to get into University. Not just yet. She just reapplied again, hoping, crossing her fingers that she doesn’t get rejected a second time.

Where? My alma mater, the University of Washington – Seattle.

So, here she is, at a local mom and pop’s just standing behind a register, waiting for everyone’s coffee order and preparing their little croissants and pastries that will tie them over till lunch or something to sweeten their palate while consuming the drippings of the bitter bean.

Shanika dreams of bigger things while she’s back there, twirling away.

* * *

Heart breaking.

The loyalty of dogs.

I wonder if Pickles would stay by my side if I unfortunately pass.

Just read a story of a loyal dog.

Like the story says, it almost brought tears to my eyes while making me laugh at the same time.

I’m just a sucker for things like that. I’m just a softie. I just like emotions, ’cause maybe I just grew up with so little of it.

I don’t know.

Blah.

Blah indeed.

* * *

I can see today shaping out to be a good writing day.

Very much so.

See.

* * *

Fix you…again.

It seems that I’ve been stuck in reverse for a while now.

I think of bettering myself, exercising, getting in shape, focusing on my artistic endeavors and broadening my mind with more reading and what not, but I haven’t really been able to do that.

Blah.

Blah indeed.

Maybe I will be soon. Going back home after this holiday, maybe I should.

It should be a new time in my life, as I go back into my air chrysalis hibernating, creating my dota and me being my motha.

We will see what happens.

Will I stick to my guns, getting this tired old body of mine into a much better shape, a shape that will take me into the next 50 or 60 years or so?

Here’s to hoping.

Giving my history, giving the family’s history, it’s a coin toss.

I’m battling nature, genetics that I might end up in the grave sooner rather than later.

Even knowing my shortcomings, I ignore them and live a life that facilitates my death sooner.

It’s not because I’m looking to be buried anytime soon, to test out the theory if Pickles will just be at my grave and never leave, but I’m just lazy.

Pickles being the way he is, being so attached, but so friendly, he’ll just probably find the first nice person that pays him any attention and leave with them, forgetting me…like he should.

He should be happy and warm and cared for instead of waiting next to someone that can’t take care of him.

I want that for him.

It’s just how it should be.

* * *

Running out. Running out of steam.

This stream is drying up, just a slight trickle of something, fighting its way, going with gravity to the big reservoir…somewhere.

Just trying to add to this page, this entry. Just trying.

It seems that for the most part, every time I’m up here and I have nothing really planned, I would come to the local mom & pop’s coffee shop and just do some writing. Today is no different. The past couple of days have been no different.

It’s always the same.

My mom sleeps in late and either my brother is already at work by the time I wake up or he wakes up late. It’s what I get for being an early bird. I just have to find things to do to occupy myself and I really don’t mind. It gives me the alone time that I kind of strive for.

I don’t even remember how many entries that I have already, two? It is the way it is and I expect more entries this week.

I just hope that I have enough content to spew out before the end of my time here in the beautiful wet and cold Northwest.

* * *

An old high school friend of mine started a blog a few weeks or maybe even months back. She wanted to know what people’s definition of love is. It doesn’t have to be the lovey-dovey kind of love, but any kind of love. Her blog is located here.

It seems that she’s the only one who posted anything to it. It is a lot to ask of someone to write down something that might be possibly live on the internet forever and forever.

She asked me to put something in there when she thought of the idea and I thought I would. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.

Love…what is it? What am I going to write about? I have no clue.

I never really thought about it much, but I’m sure I’ll post something. Maybe here and there.

* * *

Love.

…is all around us as the song goes. Love is all around us.

There’s no escaping it, as we look around for the most part, it’s everywhere. The person next to you may have been created from a night of love making, a testament of love between two people.

The couple holding hands while walking down the street, they are most likely in love.

Even a cynical jaded fool like I am can see it. It’s all around. There’s no escaping it.

Growing up, I didn’t really get the full blown Brady Bunch text book definition of what a loving family is. My family showed it in other ways; ways of putting in hours and hours of work, food on the table, and a roof over our heads; the necessities of making a family feel more secure in life.

I didn’t grow up with that many friends. For the most part, I was and still am the loner off doing my own thing. Even though I have always been surrounded by people, at school, at work, out and about, I always feel alone. Though it is less so now than when I was young and angsty. But alone still.

Now, being alone doesn’t always mean that I’m always lonely.

You see, I actually enjoy being alone. That’s pretty much the definition of the anti-social loner hermit that I am. It’s just how I roll.

Besides the normal familial love that I grew up having, I hardly ever felt love of any other kind.

Sure there were the love of lust and the painful unrequited nature. I’m sure all have been there and all can relate, but overall, I never really loved anyone or anything besides family.

That for me changed a few years ago and I do have to say it changed my life, it saved my life.

It’s my love for Pickles.

Pickles here isn’t the salty sour food that many love to devour, but a friend, a buddy of the four legged furry kind. Pickles is my furry son, a 6 1/2-year-old Pit Bull Labrador mutt.

He’s just a darling.

I don’t have kids, but having him feels like I do.

For the most part, I’m sure it is easier than a kid, but damn, if he doesn’t test my patience.

Having him for the past 6 years or so, he really taught me a few things about life, love, and patience.

With him I’ve gone through peeing, diarrhea, puke, and other liquidy juicy goodness on the carpet. I’ve gone through dug up carpet, chewed up blinds, curtains, door knobs, and broken door jams.

Sure I was angry, pissed, but you know, I learned to let these things go. Pickles couldn’t help it. He’s stuck at home alone all day while I’m trudging away in the office.

Thankfully he’s grown out most of those, except for the spiteful peeing, but again, just let it go. He has feelings too and sometimes he just needs to go.

Just buy a carpet cleaner and let things be.

He’s broken out of my apartment a total of three times, from my brother’s back yard once, and a cousin’s backyard in Portland, OR twice; a parent’s worse nightmare, a lost kid in a strange city. But thankfully he’s able to find his way home or a stranger was kind enough to wrangle him in and give me a call.

Love is also when he’s not feeling well and he can’t really tell you what is wrong. He’ll wake you up in the middle of the night (2-3 AM) in the morning, him breathing in your face; his two front paws on the bed; you peel your eyes open and you see the outline of his head right next to yours just staring at you. You tell him to go back to bed, push him away but he doesn’t budge.

You get your sleepy ass out of bed and take him out to the front, thinking he needs to pee. He does his business and you go back to bed thinking it is done, you fall quickly back to sleep. Ten minutes later, he’s doing the same thing and the routine continues, you push him away, he doesn’t budge, you take him out, but this time he doesn’t go.

Pissed, tired, and grumpy, you realize something is wrong and he needs a walk. You put on shoes, glasses, and fetch him up with his harness and leash and take him out for a walk in the middle of the night.

Why? Because you know he won’t leave you alone until he gets his walk. Sure, but more importantly you know that there is something wrong and he needs to just go.

And it isn’t near the end of the walk that he squats down and explodes the nastiest, foulest, diarrhea you’ve ever seen.

Then, at that moment, any anger you had towards him for dragging your sorry ass out of bed disappears and you just feel sorry for the little guy and you ask him why didn’t he tell you before he had an upset stomach? You start to baby him, hold him, telling him everything will be okay.

Before I got my four legged son, I never thought I’d be so attached to him, that I would actually physically miss his presence.

The little guy, all 60 pounds of him sleeps with me, for the most part, unless it is just way too hot in bed with me or he’s just pissed off at me for dumping him somewhere while I’m on vacation. So, when I first got him, he’s been sleeping with me even though he has a bed on the floor at the foot of my bed.

It was just a few weeks after I got him that I went back to Seattle to visit my family. I remember waking up in the middle of the night one night and didn’t feel Pickles next to me. I got worried, then realize that I’m not home and he’s not with me. I really missed him, curled up next to me, sleeping.

The longer he’s been with me, the longer that I notice that his personality is a lot like mine. There are times that I wonder if he was like me to begin with or if he just picked up and adapted to my personality.

He’s very chill, mellow, and antisocial in many ways. Going to dog parks, he would mingle for a bit and then he’ll be off doing his own thing by himself. That’s like me in any social event. I’ll do my quick mingling and then I’m ready to go.

His love of hiking and traveling is another thing that I love about my pooch. He’s more gung ho about hiking then I am, never wanting to rest and just keep trudging on. He’s been by my side on many solo hiking trips and solo road trips. He’s an adventurer like me and for that, I love him.

The look on his face whenever he senses that there’s a big trip coming up, his wagging tail, him running around the small living room, crashing into my legs, just waiting to bolt out the door. It just makes me smile and laugh, even if he isn’t tagging along, the thought of him excited to go with me, to be with me. If that isn’t love right there, then what is?

It’s a little sad to see him get deflated when I tell him that he can’t go. His whole demeanor changes, confused, tail down. It tears away at my heart disappointing him like that, but sometimes he just can’t go.

It wasn’t until recently that I can relate to actual parents dropping their kids off at school for the first time. The heart pangs of leaving them at a new unfamiliar place, feeling scared, and vulnerable. I had to drop him off at a boarder’s for my recent trip home for Thanksgiving. Usually I’m able to find a sitter, but this time wasn’t.

Dropping him off, seeing him get comfortable, sniffing the other dogs, I felt a little bit better that he’ll get along with the other dogs. As I step out and the door closed behind me, my chest started to tighten, my heart was aching. I’m leaving my son at a strange new place for a whole week. I wonder how he’s doing now, if he’s making friends, fitting in. I certainly hope so.

And as much as I do for him, he does a lot for me. He will always be there to lick away my tears whenever I just have one of my moments. He’s just always there to comfort me.

It’s weird how much I would be treating him as a person instead of the dog that he is. I know he’s just a dog. I see him as a dog, but he’s everything to me.

I guess that is what happens when you actually love someone, love something.

They are your everything.

* * *

Another day has gone, another day lived.

Sitting here at Tolino’s again, doing the thing that I do, I try to think about what to write.

Having had our yearly Family Thanksgiving get-together yesterday, I have to in a way uncompress from the hub-bub that happened yesterday. The many kids running around, playing, screaming. The many food, and the many new strangers and family members there that had to catch up and just be with.

It was a surprise, but really wasn’t that there wasn’t more family that partake on the gathering. Considering that everyone is so spread out now, off in their own little cities, busy in their own lives — doing their own thing, it’s understandable.

It seems like there was always a core group of family members that partake in these things, and it seems to me like they are more the family oriented ones. Menty, Phinny, Hien, and Loretta. The usuals I guess. I’m sure if the others could, they would be here.

Family of the previous generation is getting smaller and smaller. There, it was only mom and 14th uncle. I guess that is how it is, since he’s the only Uncle we have left up in the Northwest. Our little own Jedi Council is getting smaller and smaller and it’s just sad.

Life. Growing up. Eventually we all have to go.

The stories that are shared about the past will always be there, but the storytellers are getting smaller and smaller. Their recollections are still there, but it’s only one point of view instead of the many that I’ve heard from in the past.

Life.

Listening to the stories last night as told by 14th Uncle/Auntie and Mom, it’s a little sad at what my family had gone through, how much they have to suffer to just get to where they are now. They survived not one, but two fleeings, rebuilding their lives all over again. They gave up everything they had more times than anyone should have and gambled on a new livelihood, on a new life anywhere.

And they did that. I came from a family of survivors. WE came from a family of survivors.

* * *

It was around 1954, when Chiang Kai-shek took over the Nationalistic Revolution and forced Sun Yat-sen out of China to Taiwan.

At that time, Grandpa and Grandma have been pretty much run out of the country. Their family had to flee along with Great Uncle and Great Grandpa. Their whole family.

On my Grandpa’s side, they had to take 2nd Uncle, 3rd Uncle, 5th Uncle, 7th Uncle and 14th Uncle. 14th Uncle was around 4 at this time.

They left everything they had. They were poor. There wasn’t anything they could do.

I’m not sure where they fled to, but it was southeast China, near the Vietnamese border. Grandpa took a job at the quarry, breaking rocks. Grandma I believe made coal.

To my surprise, they had to make coal by hand. They have to squeeze the coal together into the balls that they use now. I can’t imagine how they would go about doing that, nor the dust that Grandma probably inhaled while doing it.

They didn’t ‘have much to eat at all. A nightly dinner would be congee with sweet potatoes, and the congee would mostly be water. Grandpa, grandma and maybe some of the older uncles would just drink the congee water and let 14th uncle have the actual rice.

There was another time when Grandma would take 14th uncle with her to go bargain for rice. With 14th Uncle strapped to her back, Grandma would go stall to stall asking for the vendors to give them some rice. She’ll bargain with them, give me some rice and when we get some money, we’ll pay you back. If they said no, they’ll move onto the next one.

One day, while doing this, I’m not sure if the other Uncles were with them or not, they came across a wealthy Chinaman. Instead of giving them rice or money to help out, he wanted to buy one of my grandparent’s children. Because they have so many children and they are poor, it was an option and apparently it happened a lot back them.

The Chinaman had his eye on 14th uncle and it seemed that Grandma agreed to sell him. Money exchanged hands and 14th uncle went and hid underneath the table and grabbed on for dear life to a table leg. Crying, fighting, he never let go, not wanting to go.

I guess eventually, the Chinaman relented and my grandparents decided that we will all starve together as a family then sell one of their children.

I can’t even fathom or imagine having to do something like that; having to sell one of your children so the other children wouldn’t starve. How can you choose? Would you be able to do that? Could you?

* * *

Getting to Vietnam.

It seemed that Grandma’s brother lived in North Vietnam around this time, about 1955 or so. There’s a little straight or bay or whatever that is separating China from Vietnam. Grandma’s brother studied the tides and knows when the tides would be high or low enough to cross.

Once he got it down, he passed word to my family on when to cross.

Grandpa and Grandma had to split the family in two, each having to cross at separate times. At this time Great Grandpa was with them also. Either way, they had to cross this lil’ straight/bay at different times.

Why?

Because if they get captured or gunned down, there’s still a chance that the family will not be annihilated ’cause there is still another half of the family left. The ingrained nature to have your family survive; increase the chances that your family will survive by separating them.

But, that’s what they did. They separated and they crossed at different times. I don’t know how many days or weeks between crossing, but they did it and they finally reunited in North Vietnam.

It was there that Great Grandpa died. Apparently he got buried at a top of a mountain or a really big hill. It was around the time that when we first got to the States, one of our Great Uncles went back to the burial site, collected his bones and brought it back to China for a burial.

* * *

North to South.

Like how they gave up everything to flee from China, my Grandparents gave up everything to move from North to South Vietnam, eventually ending up in Saigon.

I’m not sure of the circumstance, but they got on a big boat, like a sanctioned move, and sailed down to Saigon. There they stayed.

While they were in Saigon, there was word that there was a job opportunity to work in Long Khanh. Grandpa went by himself to do it.

The job? To clear-cut the forest to make it inhabitable. The pay? Whatever you clear-cut, the land is yours.

While he was doing it by himself, Grandma and the rest of the family stayed in Saigon. Eventually 2nd uncle went up there to help him.

Now I understood how we were able to get the farmland. That was one aspect I didn’t understand doing my years of researching and listening to the stories, how we got the farmland. I mean, if we were so poor, how were we able to pay for the land to farm.

We paid for it through manual labor, sweat and blood. Grandpa cleared his land by hand.

They would clear the outline of the land first, leaving whatever inside. The idea is to get as much land as you want, carve out the border first and worry about the inside later.

It’s kind of like the Oklahoma land race back in the day, but this is the Vietnamese clear-cutting race.

And then here we are. Again, the 70s, after the war, we gave up everything, risked our lives to get to where we are now.

A family of survivors.

* * *

The above isn’t the best writing, but I’m not going to worry about the style as the content is more important.

I’m sure I’ll come back to it on another entry later, eventually as I just let the new stories and information settle in my mind a bit. I just wanted to get it down before I forget the details of it.

Just listening to 14th Uncle and my mom tell the stories and seeing how they are able to laugh about the hardship they had endured. Even listening to Phinny laugh about the times on the boat while fleeing Vietnam, how he remembered the time at the Thai refugee camp, him fishing with a bottle and twine.

I guess once everything is okay, you can’t help but laugh at it. You kind of have to, relieved that things are finally okay. Nothing to endure anymore.

The only thing you have to worry about now is having a job, making enough money to support your family, put a roof over your head.

Life.

I’ve been trying to do this for years.

The you? It’s me.

I’ve been slowly picking away at my issues, my faults, my flaws. Slowly, but surely, I’ve been overcoming these little issues and quirks I have and have made leaps and bounds to get to where I am today.

I know many of you may not see the change, for you all may have known me after much of the work has been done.

Others, like family may have seen that change. That glimmer of hope that you all clanged on to when I was down and out, it happened.

Thank you for believing in me.

But, all in all, am I truly fixed? I don’t think I can honestly answer that.

Like I always like to say, and it’s true, I always do like to say: We all have our baggage. We all have our shit.

Usually I don’t do them both together like that, but the gist is there. We all have our issues, our inner demons that we need to deal with, to keep in check on a daily basis.

I am no different than you.

Your quirks, flaws, demons may be less than mine or even worse than mine, but it is ours and ours alone.

It is just going to take a while to fix them all, to accept them, and maybe just deal with them or not let them bother you anymore.

I don’t know.

Eventually it’ll happen, but I do have to declare, this fine specimen that is typing away at this, this lil’ diddy that you are reading currently, is a much better person.

I’m still not fixed, but I’m constantly taking a step closer in the right direction.

* * *

I had a late start today, as I had a late night last night, getting into my hometown late last night and having a late dinner.

A late start, but still early for my usual diatribe. I don’t expect anyone being awake by the time I get back anyway.

* * *

I’ve been on a contemplative mood as of late and also more horny than usual.

Getting these ideas of banging someone I never thought I would ever bang, and I can’t get them out of my head.

And it’s not like it is someone that I ever thought about starting anything with, but if it was strictly casual, sure, but relationship wise — never crossed my mind.

Blah.

* * *

Back to being contemplative, back to the grind and the finger tapping of things.

Again, I’m back in my ol’ stomping grounds. This is the first time in years that I’ve been back for Thanksgiving. I’m usually a Christmas tripper ’cause the office gives us a free week then so I wouldn’t have to use any of my valuable vacation time, but I opted to go back here.

I think it is more that I haven’t had a really big family soiree in a while, that didn’t have to do with death. Thanksgiving was the most ideal time, I guess.

So, I’ll be partaking in our annual Weekend-Before-Thanksgiving-Dinner dinner on Sunday. It should be exciting and fun, hopefully.

Also, I am really really looking forward to spending the week off alone, spending Christmas alone and picking up my LA-Christmas tradition again.

Volunteering and road tripping.

I think it is much needed for me, right now.

* * *

There are places I remember, all my life, though some have changed.

Everything changes. Everywhere changes.

Walking through the Sea-Tac Airport last night, it looked so different. Even LAX looked a little different.

Everything is changing around me and the change seems to be coming so fast.

I, in a way have been changing also.

I keep going back and saying how I learn something new each year and in a way, this year is no different.

I’m sure I’ll be touching upon it during my year end diatribe, but I’ll type it here too, ’cause I just need to keep my fingers tapping.

I’ve been really social this year. It really has been a social year for me.

In a way it is good for me, to go out, get out, and be with people. But again, there are times where it just feels awkward, me being the odd man out, never really fitting in any group or truly belonging anywhere within the dynamic of the groups set up by environment.

can you imagine when this race is run, turn our golden faces to the sun

It was good bye to someone the other day, her last day at work.

I know with many in my life, once they are out of my life, they kind of stay out of my life. Out of sight, out of mind. Sure there will be rumblings of contact here and there, but eventually things fade like most things do. The connections that bonded them slowly untwine and become weak, eventually just getting to the point of being so frayed that it just simply can’t maintain that connection anymore.

It’s sad, I know, but still…that’s life.

But her last day. Gone gone gone.

The Ghrofson for some reason really wanted me to go to her happy hour that night. I thought the drunken night of sobering that I definitely needed and her night of venting that she seemed to need would be enough of a goodbye, but I guess not.

Knowing how upset she would be, I kind of experimented. I basically told her I wasn’t going to go. I texted her BYE! and didn’t answer her call when she called, even deciding to show up late.

Apparently she was pissed, thinking I have mental issues, not believing that I would just totally leave.

I would, but that would just seem so mean.

For whatever it is worth, she was cool in my book. We were able to bond in many ways other than the superficial; she even saw me cry.

You don’t really ever forget people you cried in front of. You just don’t, especially someone like me who has an elephant’s memory.

Thinking back, maybe she is right. She’s my voice of reason, my voice from the inside and ultimately I just need to move on.

Nothing is going to happen and I just needed someone else to tell me that. There’s no point in keeping the hope alive if there was nothing there to begin with.

Groups. A demarcation of not fitting in. A loner will always be a loner no matter how hard he tries to fit in anywhere.

Small groups segregate from each other. Each talking about their own little inside talks that they are only privy too whereas an outsider will not know, understand, and in a way not care what it is that they are talking about.

I had no insiders with me, no one to really latch on to. None of my crew was there.

I was alone.

Even when she was there with me for a little bit, as I got her a drink, I never really got to bond. Seeing her, drifting off, just right next to me even but yet feeling like we’re galaxies apart.

It’s just my heart, screaming out, reaching out and my subconscious sabotaging everything.

Eventually I left, finishing my sad satellite, I left. I reached out, said my goodbyes and scrambled off. I didn’t need to be there anymore, didn’t want to be there anymore. I had other things to do, to get ready for as I prepare to leave on my trip.

Each on their own, in their own circle. Some circles overlap, some circles roll together, whereas others are stranded. I’m not even a circle. I’m a dot, a period. End. Stop.

the show goes on all night

I love you, you know that? I really love you.

As we said our goodbyes, our embrace.

I have no idea what it means, but in a way, I do know that you secretly do love me.

and i want to stay here, indefinitely

Not in the embrace…well maybe. I wouldn’t mind just being in a long embrace.

I guess even loners need some human contact from time to time.

Gone gone gone.

* * *

I hope it makes you notice. I hope it’s going to make you notice. Someone like me.

My chest clenches, lungs gasps for the sweet air that was just knocked out of them. But nothing comes. I’m drowning on nothing and I can’t help myself.

I sit, relax, trying to gain some sense of control, but nothing comes.

One step. Two steps. Another and another.

Nothing.

I get in my car and sit, distancing myself away, succumbing to the fact that he’ll be gone, away from me for some time.

A week.

He’ll be gone for a week.

He’s been away from me longer.

Breathe. In. Out.

One breath at a time. Another and another.

A week.

He’ll be okay. He’s in trusted hands…I hope.

I’ve never left him there before. It’s new, but maybe he’ll like it. There are many of his kind there, many new friends to make.

The sweet tempered bringer of fears, with her tail stuck between her legs. She was so scared, but maybe He can coax her out of her shell, warm her up, open her soul.

I believe he can do that. He did it with me.

He’s my savior.

He’ll be okay.

He’s in good hands.

My lungs relinquish its hold and relax.

The sweet saccharine air gushes into me, filling me up. I can feel my blood surge with more energy, life, hope.

There’s something there that I can latch on.

My breath catches.

I’ll be okay.

He’ll be okay.

* * *

It’s time.

Time.

It has to be, ’cause it just has to be.

This can’t go on anymore, ’cause it’ll just go on forever and that is a long time to let things just go on.

* * *

use somebody

Maybe that’s just what I need to do, to just use somebody.

Maybe someone like you. Or maybe someone else who just understands what I need isn’t a permanent fix, but a Band-Aid over a gushing wound.

I just need to use somebody, anybody, to just keep me warm, to keep my occupied until the time comes for me to make up a decision.

There are no strings, no commitments. It is just this.

Maybe that’s what I need.

Just somebody.

oooOOohhHH I’m on fire.

As my body heats up, needing something to cool me down. I just need something to hold me over until my resting days so I just don’t have to think about it anymore.

It’s over. Just over.

* * *

Love times of skipping out on Ramen to go to another ramen.

Had dinner with the B5 the other night and overall it was just a great time. She had fun, I had fun. Just fun all around.

Dinner and then yogurt.

As I proclaimed to her, she would be perfect, just absolutely perfect if things were a little different. Maybe she can be someone I can use. She’s the somebody that I need to keep me occupied.

Maybe.

Oh oh oh I’m on fire.

I even got her to think about dog sitting for me, as we had a little lunch together, just talking and talking. Ahh, why can’t life be simpler?

If it was, then I guess it technically wouldn’t be life would it? Maybe not.

* * *

I’ll take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you

Eventually I just realize that ultimately it is just too late. It is.

There’s no point, there’s no use…just grasping at straws.

The longing pangs of the hearts, the pulling of the strings as I linger on our chats and our actions. The obsessing over the little things, the little touches, the little smiles and jokes that are shared.

They are just sweet nothings that I can’t turn to something. They are just things now.

Things.

There are just things around us, everywhere.

We’re all surrounded by these things and from there, these things have no ultimate meanings. They are just things until we give them meaning. They are just words until we make them sweet whispers.

My intuition is deceiving me. I think I know better but I’m just clouded by my heart.

My emotions are taking over and I just need to toughen up, throw away this softness and get rougher around the edges.

I need to turn a cold shoulder, a cold heart into things.

I need to approach things a little more different, a little more distant.

I need this wall to go up again, to reinforce this damn, so nothing can come out of me and nothing can get to me.

I need to build myself this safe room and just let it all hang out. I just need to do it. Just do it. Do it.

It is what it is.

I know that and I can see that.

I can understand that.

Let’s just do it.

As the year is running down, it is just something that I have to do.

Man up.

Man up, I say.

Let’s do it.

* * *

Don’t stop believin’/Hold on to that feelin’

Holding on. Holding in.

I’m just holding on to something and I really don’t know what it is.

Is it that fluttery feeling of butterflies in my stomach that I get whenever I can make you smile, make you laugh?

That feeling of gaga-ness when my point of attack is working?

Or is it that feeling that you seem to just be focused on me and not much else as we talk our little talks, our usual catch-ups and sweet nothings?

Ahhh, the sweet nothings.

That pretty much sums me up.

Sweet nothings. The sweet nothings of words, of actions, of hope upon hope.

Hoping for the best, a bright future of romantic endeavors of the ideals.

Ahh LOVE.

L

O

V

E

It is just sweet nothings that I know nothing of. Just a tad, smidge, out of reach for this soul of mine ’cause it is so fractured and damaged that if it had it, it would just wear it down and tarnish it into something that isn’t what it really was.

Who am I to ruin something that is so pure?

Who am I?

* * *

I am in misery. There ain’t nobody who can comfort me.

Is there really anyone that can comfort me? Shouldn’t that be something that I should be myself.

Separate myself from any desires, reach the Zen state of mind that I, in a way, constantly search for and just BE.

Just BE.

Be.

Like a buzzing bee that buzzes around. BUZZ BUZZ annoying me. Keeping it in the back of my mind that it is Out there somewhere and I just need to keep my eyes open, my heart open, and just let people in.

Allow for the unexpected. Allow for someone. Allow to be hurt.

Just be who I am and allow for the impossible.

I am just holding myself back.

My heart just doesn’t want to hurt anymore, as it finally found some sort of solace or a drug that worked it’s magic, creating a balance of euphoric phorica of niceness and numbness that is just bearable, allowing me to function and just BE.

Buzz buzz.

* * *

Fire

Burning.

It just burns. That desire just burns like fire.

And like a caveman, I’m too afraid to extinguish it, to lose it forever and might not be able to get that desire back, even though in some sort of sick way, I need it.

I must have it. It’s the gas to my engine, keeping me going through this life.

There must be something to this thing called life. Maybe.

As I just sit here and type my life away, as the soft piano keys just tip-tap melodically in my ears, I sit exist.

Existing.

There’s not much to it.

Straddling this fine line. Something there. There’s just this.

There’s just this and I am to make the best of it.

That’s the most logical.

There’s just this.

* * *

If not now, then when…

It’s hot. Very hot.

Sweat pours out of my pores like a fat man in a sauna.

It’s hot, but I trudge on anyway, looking, searching. It has to be here, has to be. There’s no other place that I can lose it. I can’t lose it. It’s my life.

I decide to take a break and crack open a window, hoping that will work…

* * *

Poor attempt. Poor shot.

Not focused and too much thinking.

I continue on the tip-tap of these Joycian diatribes and try to pull something out of it.

Words flow. Words come easy. Whether they are good or not, I’m not sure, but these fingers are tapping away.

* * *

I don’t know if I can yell any louder….

Screaming. Yelling.

Hear me now…or not.

Really, I don’t have much to say. Just typing away.

Strangely enough, The Ghrofson has been asking me to lunch quite a bit lately.

Maybe it is just that she’s secretly in love with me and since she gave her notice, knows that she won’t be seeing me much anymore, so she’s packing in all the time that she can get.

Maybe. I’m sure she’ll be like whatever, but secretly she knows that my assumptions are true.

For the most part, I enjoy her company. We don’t do small talk, as we actually do talk about things.

I for the most part am open with most people, able to be open and honest. I really don’t have anything to hide, but it isn’t with everyone that I can have that kind of conversations with.

It has to be someone that I trust, like family, or close friends.

But, I don’t know…I just never thought I’d actually cry in front of her.

I did.

It’s not something I would like to do, cry in front of people, but sometimes it happens.

Maybe it was just because I was talking about dad and we all know I’m still a little fucked about that. I don’t know when I’ll be not fucked about it.

Maybe never.

But I did.

My voice trembled as I try to keep composed…not wanting to fully lose it.

Tears swell, on the verge, but none fell.

I turn away, apologizing, wiping them away.

I need to keep my emotions in check.

Hopefully I can, but I know I can’t.

For the most part, I’m just an emotional mess. My Emoness is a result of my big heart, always feeling for others. I’m an empath gone wild.

Sigh.

Sigh indeed.

Such a softie.

Blah, but I don’t know. I guess it has just been a while since my heart panged for my dad.

I know he’s constantly in my mind, but it’s been a while since I miss him.

* * *