LA

Well, after leaving houston at 6 am, I arrived in los angeles at 1 pm. I made it near phoenix, az the first night (nearly 14 hours of driving) and ended up falling asleep at a truck stop--which was probably the scariest night of my life.

During the course of the trip:
I hit a bird and saw it bounce off my car and hit the pavement
I saw about 3.5 deer, dead on the road.
I got pulled over near san antonio for going 51 in a 45, but got off with a warning (I kissed ass like never before)
I saw a 2 terrible wrecks, one in which a truck was flipped on its side.
I saw a wind farm for the first time (pic below)
I ceremoniously flicked off san antonio as I drove though.
I ate 3.5 rolls of kimbapI
drank about 260 oz of water, 1 roll of sour chewy sweet tarts, and 2 red bulls.I drove through 3 immigrations/customs check points.
I listened to speed metal and gangsta rap nearly the entire trip.
I slept and rested a total of about 5 hours.I think I also filled up my tank 4 times, the most expensive gas being in CA @ $4.09/gallon of the crappy gas.
In the past two days, I've consumed nearly 4000% of my daily recommended dosage of vitamin B.

There are these mini-beverages you can get from the corner store like 5 Hour Energy, which essentially work like redbull without the caffeine crash.If you take highway 60 to LA from i-10, the road is like a car commerical, full of s-turns and mountains. Unfortunately, my honda accord doesn't perform like a porsche.Thanks to everyone who checked on my progress during the trip.Arizona smells like poo. Here are some panoramic photos I took while on the way. they're huge (up to 16 glorious mb), so it may take a minute to load.

https://webspace.utexas.edu/jk228/pano/Untitled-1.jpg?uniq=-4ojahkhttps://webspace.utexas.edu/jk228/pano/pano7.jpg?uniq=-4ojahfhttps://webspace.utexas.edu/jk228/pano/pano4.jpg?uniq=-4ojahahttps://webspace.utexas.edu/jk228/pano/pano3.jpg?uniq=-4ojah5https://webspace.utexas.edu/jk228/pano/pano2.jpg?uniq=-4ojah0https://webspace.utexas.edu/jk228/pano/pano.jpg?uniq=-4ojagv

I got into town and had tofu in k-town. It still hasn't sunk in that i've moved or that I'm starting over, or that my family isn't as close as they used to be.

moobies

To the list:
1. A Bronx Tale (BAD TO THE ASS)
2. Once Upon a Time in America (i fell asleep)
3. City of Violence
4. Cocaine Cowboys

time flies by

Since the last day of classes, life has been a rush.

I spent a couple days vegging out and watching tv before I got back on my grizzy. I threw my first and only show in college at Karma Lounge with some friends. It was pretty fun, sans the mixing which took a good 14 hours the day before. I don't know if you've ever heard the same 12 songs for 14 hours, but it will make a man go crazy. By the end of the night, i was in a rage from having to mix down different parts over and over again. Honestly, I'm still burnt out. I only want to work on my own shit now--mostly since I have low standards for the mixing quality of my own shit. That and I think rapping is easier to mix than singing. Either way, a bunch of people showed up, the sets were live, and we had a good time.

I had a hard time sleeping last week because of graduation. The uncertainty finally sank in, the very idea that i dont know what the fuck i'm doing with myself. Graduation weekend passed, with your boy intoxicated in several ways. It was pretty fun and a bit relaxing. I thought things would wind down, and that I'd have some time to get my shit together before heading back to houston. Tuesday I ended up talking to the company I applied for, and it turns out they had some spots available. Unfortunately, they wanted to interview me in person, and I got scared that someone else would seem more qualified because they were more available. Homie don't play that shit. Seriously, more qualified than.. me?

So tuesday to thursday, I slept somewhere between 4 and 6 am. The fridge was a BEAST to clean. Packing sucked. I had a hard time sleeping. Somehow, I got it all taken care of, and got to houston today.

Friday, I'd like to keep things chill before I hit the road on saturday for a good 20+ hours--which I imagine to be the most hellacious driving I will ever have the misery of enduring. Maybe i'll have a fun time taking pictures and sheeeeit.

Looking back at college, I don't know what to think. I don't know how to calculate the sum of good and bad. I don't know what it has made of me, or if I'm who I'd like to be. when I think of it, it's as if every blessing came with a curse. The friends I made through church are incredible people, but I feel like I wasted years attending. The girls I pursued all pretty much stomped me down with high heels. I spend a lot less time sober, YAY!. I spend a lot less time sober, OH GNOES! I have few friends to show for the college experience, but my music was starting to pop off. It's all balanced in some cheesy karmic way.

I don't know why I added this to the post.

West Coast, I see you.

anatomy of a BITCH: a tale of epic win

Sorry it's so long, but it was an EPIC evening.

So, yesterday I went to campus at 11 in the morning and left at 5 in the morning the next day. My group was working on a huge project, something we'd been working on all semester, and we were presenting today. This class, from 11-12:30, also required our attendance from 5-8, since we had to watch all the teams present. We had all busted our asses working on this project, and were going to present to the CEO of a startup.

One of the groups that had presented first started drinking during the night-time presentations, joking around, asking asshole questions, and pretty much just acting like some asses. They were pretty blitzed mid-way through the presentations, and it had become clear they were drinking--even though howard didn't believe me.

I should take a brief moment to introduce the detail of one of the drunkards being a hoe (many of them are, well.. all of them are after this project), and I'd like to use Jay-Z's definition:

"This is not a hoe in the sense of having a pussy
But a pussy having no God damn sense, try and push me"
- 99 problems

This asshole asks the same damn question to every marketing group after they present. "uh... don't you think that you'll dilute the brand by.. [insert presenting teams platform here]?"

seriously, bitch. what do you know about anything? I've forgotten more about marketing than you've ever thought about marketing. I don't even know that much. No one in the class likes you except for the wretched gang of sea creatures you call a group. You've never contributed to class, or even mankind for that matter. Strongly consider other options.

Anyways, I became suspicious when they started laughing at one of my group members present. I wasn't having that at all. Then when they tried to tag-team another group by poking holes in their presentation, that was the last straw. Your half-assed project wasn't fooling anyone. We had also seen them share the same coke bottle, which doesn't make sense when you have four bottles.

So upon the recommendation of my peers, I told the professor that we were suspicious of their sobriety. We found the empty coke bottles they had mixed their rum into, howard said he heard them say rum, adelle said she could smell it, and kelly said she also did when they spilled it on her. I told the professor I took mad disrespect, and what surprised me was that he actually seemed hurt. He had told us earlier that day that he was going to extend some good will to us later that evening at a restaurant. Then it seemed to set in that some chump ass bitches, bitch bitch bitch (WHATTUP JOE!), weren't reciprocating.

He seemed resigned when he asked "what can I do about it?"
I told him I'd take care of it.
As an aside, I'd like to say that houston doesn't fucking play.

I gathered the evidence and headed to the restaurant where I saw the villains sitting at the opposite end of the table. I tossed the empty, rum-scented bottle on the table, and stood up to make a speech. Since the professor already knew I was going to town, he looked at me with support.

"A lot of us put a lot of work into this project, and we don't appreciate you coming to class drunk and disrespecting us while we present. I saw you laugh at one of my group members presenting, and I don't take disrespect like that. I don't get disrespected"

The queen hater stared me down, clearly stunned with disbelief. I suppose it would be the look you might give when realizing that overnight, you had been tattooed with "property of james koo" on your ass." She first denied talking during the presentations, and then denied the drinking. I suppose that's the go-to argument when caught in a lie. Her final response was that I was just bitter for not having won, since the presentations were in competition. I told her I could care less, and that it was the least of my concerns. I really wanted to put on a name tag, because I don't think she remembered who she was talking to.

The girl sitting to the side of queen hater looked like she was going to break down. I savored that moment like fucking sushi. Then again, she may have been drunk. Apparently red-head was getting heated about me. Sorry for stuntin all over you.

Anyways, the food arrived--the standard bar fair of onion rings and tater skins, and I must say, never had it tasted so victorious. They say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I'll take reheated.

Later that evening, queen hater pulled me aside (with the girl who had been sitting next to her) and said "I know it was wrong we were drinking, but don't you think it's messed up that you told the fucking professor?"
to which I replied
"No, that was mad disrespect. We busted our asses on the project, and the fact that you came to the meeting just to drink and mess around, I'm not having it." She denied even talking, which is a damn lie, and I called her out for laughing at homie. Then she dug the grave deeper:

"Tell me what YOU would have done. You just finished your presentation in the morning, wouldnt YOU have done the same thing? You present in the morning, like, wouldnt YOU have done the same thing?"

"HELL NO! At least have the discipline to wait! I wanted to get faded too, but at least I was willing to wait till later"

At this point, howard was trying to cut in and queen-hater-valley-girl-re

ject tried to push him out with the "attitude hand" (you know what I mean), and the ever classy "I AINT EVEN TALKIN TO YOU!" He then joined the conversation, and we tagged-team them like fucking the WWF.

Hater number 2 tried pulling Howard aside, reasoning with the same hollow shit. He gave her a verbal smackdown. I jumped in, and the hand came back up with another "I AINT EVEN TALKIN TO YOU." So I turned my side, and gave her the

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQOnDItTsDA (wait for the chorus for a demonstration)

and then I did what I does.

"It doesn't even matter. I'm communicating, and you hear me. At the end of the day, I wake up as James Koo. Unfortunately, you wake up to... yourself.. and bad judgment. You're not even seeing me. you CAN'T see me."

I looked hater 2 straight in the face and said "Disrespect again. I dare you."
After that, it was "fuck this, howard, let's roll." I really DONT hold myself in high regards, but if there's something worse than shit-talking, it's arrogant shit talking.

See, I understand the code that you don't snitch. But the fact of the matter is, some folks came through thinking that they could disrespect without consequence. I don't tolerate that. I don't wake up wondering if somebody is going to make me feel like a bitch that day. It doesn't happen. The way I see it, it's just retribution. You took from all the other people in that class the respect that they deserved for the fucking work they put in (yes I AM the poeple's champ). So I took something back.

I took tonight when you sober up, tossing and turning in your bed, unable to shake the fact that I made you look like the bitch you are. I took tomorrow morning, when you wake up and question if the previous night of bitchdom REALLY took place. That'll probably mean I've taken the rest of your day, the next weekend, and in high probability, your month.

Much love to all the people supporting me.

To the haters, I must be doing something right since you exist. I see why you're mad, son. And that's the reason why tonight I'm going to sleep like a king. My comforter will never have felt so warm, and my head will ALWAYS be on the cold side of the pillow. And tomorrow, when I wake up around mid-afternoon, I'm going to look in the mirror and pick my nose. Why? Because a guy picking his nose first thing after waking up is the same guy who made you a BITCH last night. And when I step out of my apartment, I'm going to feel fresher and flyer than you EVER have, because there aint a SPECK of bitch on me.

this was the most memorable way to finish a class, ever.

Ode to Party Girl

In one of my project teams I have a party girl.
She is loud, she is short, she is a terrible driver.
She shrieks when her favorite songs come on the
radio. She doesn't know the words.
She is positive her opinion is right when it is based on
stupid. stupid. stupid things.
When I told you I had a headache from doing nothing
but reading for HOURS, you adamantly refused to turn
down the volume to that fucking baby bash song.


Constantly in my ear, harping away as if anything you have to say actually matters.
it never has. it never will.
You say the dumbest things and it makes me wonder how you haven't been hit by traffic.
Party girl, only stupid people can appreciate the things you say.
The rest of the world is indifferent to your thoughts, because... well frankly, they're worthless.
In all of your years of existence, you never stopped to understand. You realized from an early age that you exist, and that THAT is the only thing that should matter.

But reality exists around the bubble afforded by daddy's promise of a lexus.
Reality exists for people who understand that sometimes life is hard.
Your inability to work, marred by your shitty. fucking. attiude, your laziness regarding the thought process, your inability to learn ANYTHING... except how to party... these things make you a burden. a walking burden.

The density of thoughts running through your head is much like that of styrofoam. For the space you occupy, you should do better.

It will all collapse when you realize that the hands on the clock move, whether or not you do. That the sun does not rise because you want it to. That time has rotted you, both inside and out.
Maybe you will choke through the bitterness, in your old age, telling yourself that nothing is so, because you were a party girl.

study broke

I'm tired of reading about things I don't care about. I realized I retain information for a long time for things I'm interested in, such as the fact that the bear who voiced chewbacca in star wars died in the 90s or something. Or that the world's biggest diamond is floating in space (at 10 billion trillion trillion cts), not that i care much for diamonds or space exploration (whattup bryan), but that is just kinda COOoooool.

In 3 days my college experience will come to an end, as far as testing and projects and general academic BULLSHIT is concerned. The degree to which i'm thrilled is well... moderated by how tired and frustrated I am for even having to go through with all these projects. Within the next couple of days, aisde from a typical test with essay questions, I will be helping to present something like 100 pages in reports and maybe 80 slides worth of powerpoint presentations. does this come off as bitchy? do i sound like a wus?

fuck it.

I think i've out-stayed my welcome in the conservative south. I went to lunch after scott's baptism with some of his students, his pastor's family, and some of our mutual friends. I ended up in a discussion about evolutionism and creationism with the pastor, which pretty much sucked since I'm pretty sure that he'll now consider me one of scott's "bad influence" friends or something. The arguments he used to support his belief in creationism are the same that the church has been re-hashing for generations--gaps in the fossil record, the way everything is just a theory, and the general concession of evolution on a smaller scale. I wanted to go to town, but that wasn't the place nor the time.

I recently heard that agnostics are just atheists who are scared of death. I thought that was pretty accurate.

I said I'd give church a chance in LA, but not in the korean/asian-american context. The bitterness I have begun to harbor after I realized the extent to which I was endoctrin--brainwashed by the church has made it a difficult decision to even give church a second chance. or maybe God's giving me a second chance. but then we must also presuppose He exists in the manner He describes.

At the end of the day, I am terrified of being wrong.
that God DOES exist, and is who He says he is.
that there is a hell.
and that i have licked the stamp affixed to the envelope that will send me there.

I sat next to faith's cousin (think her name was Gina) at the university fashion show (BIG UPS ON THAT WIN, FAITH), and she had started our conversation by mentioning that she had seen me around church in houston. We discussed religion, and I didn't know how to respond to her optimism, her unwavering belief that indeed God will "bring me back to Him." with what confidence can she say such things? Even after 23 years of believing that I wouldn't fall as I have, I did. I tried to explain to her the science that serves as the basis of my agnosticism. I was kind of high at the time, so I don't think I communicated it as articulately as I could have. I'd like to take a brief moment to share the fact that even in my most inebriated of states, my verbal ninjitsu doesn't get any sloppier than the way most people speak sober.

I hate when they attribute my agnosticism to my age. Older people say that they all had this "phase." Assuming that this belief will at one point be terminated at some yet-to-be-determined moment in time. They assume that questioning and self-searching is simply a by-product of the college environment. I don't think it's fair to see things that way. The immediate assumption that my experience is the same as theirs is a bit immature. I know that the questions I'm asking have been asked by millions before me. I'm sure that my thoughts aren't all that original, considering the span of humanity's existence on earth. It's just that if I've learned ONE thing in the past 23 years, it's that I am different. I am markedly different from my peers. Not necessarily in any better way, but i am one eccentric asshole.

We'll see what happens in the summer. I'll stick to my word, for my mama's sake.

hello hello

I have digsby as my aim client and I run the facebook extension on firefox. When I run both, anything that happens on facebook to anyone I know immediately generates an alert for me. It's become unnecessary since I don't care about that many people, but I'm wondering if I should keep the firefox extension. It took me about 4 tries to spell "care" right just now. Digsby I'm gonna stick to for a while, since I like having all my email/chat/social shit on one program.


Now that my Shure E2C's are on their way out (2nd pair, RIP), I'm leaning towards the Etymotic Research ER6i's as a replacement. Honestly, as incredible as the shures sound, I'm very skeptical about the quality of their construction. I've had 2 sets fall apart, I have a friend whose e2cs stopped working in a similar manner, and teh intarnets pretty much says they're prone to falling apart.

I got lunch with the girl from the previous post today. I still felt kinda like a bitch. it was a confusing moment of bitchdom and fun.

Harold and Kumar 2 is coming out. I need to watch that. Before I can, I have to finish up this fucking avalanche of school work I have before me. Projects, Tests, Projects.. it's enough to drive a grown man crazy.

bitch bitch bitch

Today, I realized I'm sad because for months now, I wake up in the morning feeling like a bitch. Who's bitch? It depends. Often, I'm school's bitch. Tuesday, Thursday, and Fridays, I'm work's bitch. I'm a bitch to the relationship game. I've pretty much turned tricks in a back alley to the relationship game.

I've become withdrawn from this girl I liked. Because it dawned on me that she really had a boyfriend. I wasn't sure of this for a while, and he never came up. Not in late-night conversations, lounging at coffee shops, or studying for tests did he come up. Fb gave me no real clues. I had no real reason to believe he existed, until things started showing up here and there, affirming that he did.

And I sit in close proximity to her in class. I don't know what to say. I look at my laptop like an idiot. or a bitch. bitch bitch bitch (whattup, joe!). I am scared of making eye contact. I don't know how to start a conversation so I practically ignore her for most of the period. And in all my years of living, I've grown tired of one thing, which is my inability to express my affection verbally. Not that I would now, or anything. I would never step-in and be that guy. honestly, I'd want to fuck up a dude spending time with my girl like that. It's just that I think of her, and the girls I liked before her, and as unlikely as those relationships were to have succeeded, I never took that chance. I just couldn't. because i'm a bitch.

It sucks, thinking things were going so well. I'm sure I deserve this, in some odd and twisted way. conversation was engaging, she was reciprocating, I wanted to tell her everything and I wanted to hear her tell me everything. Which is pretty much the point I get to when I realize I like a girl. The part that sucks is, in my head, I'm thinking about how lucky some guy is for getting to know her more than I ever will, and how it's fucked up that I don't think he'll appreciate her for it as much as I would. Yes, I would be a better lover than anyone in the world. I know this because I hate so well.

But in reality, I'm just awkward now. Her sarcasm feels more biting, her friendship a degree less sincere. I don't know how to interpret this. That confusion is compounded by the way I don't mind getting my balls busted by my boys, but take it personally when it's from a girl I've been liking. Maybe that's because I don't make them the bruised end of what could be the most ferocious verbal uppercut in the history of sarcasm AND spoken language, and it's weird that somehow they want to check me.

check. me.
The only people I know that can check me never do, and they are few.
think it over. language is MY bitch.

movie madness

Since last wednesday, I have seeeen:
1. thomas crown affair
2. state property
3. boyz n the hood
4. the punisher (the old one with dolph lundgren from rocky 4)
5. clockers
6. kids
7. leaving las vegas
8. across the universe

and countless episodes of frasier in between

Disenchanted

Mindstyle - disenchanted

i jacked the beat from face, but i was feelin it too much to try making my own.

hoo-ey

maybe its because im in that final stretch of projects and meetings,
maybe its the senioritis
maybe its the implosion of many things i believe in

but all i really have is an overwhelming sense of apathy.

WHAT KIND OF FUCKERY IS THIS?!?!!

CLICK FOR FULL SIZE LULZ!

so i checked my xanga and saw a banner ad for asianave, which I assume is the unwanted bastard child of the original asian avenue and myspace. what ignorant-ass shit. I wasn't going to hate until I actually clicked the link and saw what can only amount to a whole lof of "fuckery".

asian people, can we do ourselves a favor and STOP SEARCHING FOR "street racing" and "bruce lee"? that web 2.0 shit that correlates text size to search entries is totally making us look retarded. Its about the same as all of us constantly searching for "SLANTY EYES" and "CALCULUS SKILLZZZ" and "YELLOW NAUTICA SPORT T-SHIRTS"

I got a kick out of killeen being a search term. CONGRATULATIONS KILLEEN, YOUR GLORIOUS COME-UPPANCE HAS NOW BEGUN! The "connect with members in" section (with the exception of Garland, whattup bryan) essentially reads as a Who's Who of "Hoods that don't matter"

The original artist on the home page when I logged in wasnt that ghastly-looking jenny, but rather a guy who ACTUALLY WENT BY "MINDS." needless to say, he wasn't rocking the name right, and his shit sounded about as whack as this:



Man, this is so disappointing. I think im going to squat outside of a tapioca shop and smoke a cigarette while staring hard at anyone passing by through my gelled and dyed bangs.

STFU

As I walked by the Union towards my class at Welch, I saw a bunch of students crowding around a guy. The first thing I noticed were the Atheist Longhorns holding signs that said "hellfire: sounds uncomfortable" and "Athiests: we're quieter". In the center was the guy, sitting on a stool, Bible next to the stool. I put my headphones down for a second.

The first thing I heard the guy talk about was that he hated Islam. Then he quoted a bunch of scripture to "support" his opinions. It was as if the word "arbitrary" never entered his vocabulary. He said that he loved people, but he hated ideas. He said he hated atheism and islam. I just wanted to tell him to

SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.

People would ask him questions, and he would give some almost-reasonable replies. One of them being "how can i enjoy heaven if my best friends are in hell," to which he replied using the story of his wedding, in which his father was absentee. He said I could choose to think about my dad, but all I thought of was my bride.
Look. I rap, i make use of similes and metaphors probably more frequently than most of the people my age. I appreciate that sort of thing. But here you are, mr. reverend, lording over the populace a concept of the afterlife and the only way you can communicate this concept is through a simile. You have no proof, but you incubate fear. And it is at that point, i feel that you are unqualified to hold a discourse with the rest of the unbelieving world. You speak of hate as if your exercising of it is somehow righteous and proper. You don't consider how fucked up the world is because someone hated after "God" told them to.

Then he tried to explain that if you truly loved your friend, you would want them to be saved. he said in 7th grade he told his friend to not smoke pot because he loved him. This is exactly my problem with Christianity. I have found, from experience and my own hypocrisy, that Christians love to talk about what other people should not do when they have no genuine understanding of what they are telling people to abstain or from. I don't need a meth addict to tell me not to try meth. But weed? cmon now. Then again, anyone lumping weed into the same category of drugs as meth is also stupid.

After he started his story, some people yelled out "WHATS WRONG WITH WEED?" because potheads are excellent at alliteration.


I'm just tired of Christians who are loud and pride themselves on the institutionalized hatred they were taught to embrace. At the end of the day, what have you remedied? What has changed?

Maybe i'm just hating extra hard because I'm having a tough week, but I always get a little pissed when school is used as a forum to insult that which, intellectually speaking, cant fucking be proved wrong or right.

think about it

Some friends and I would go to Cork & Co. on lamar for wine because there's only so much 151 I can drink before i want something that tastes good. In any case, they have these stacks of question-cards on the table, i'm sure to promote conversation. I thought it was
interesting.

I had originally written a shitload, but firefox crashed and blogspot didn't save the entry. Please let me interject a moment of frustration as i attempt to recreate what I had originally written.

FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU AUTOSAVE ONCE A MINUTE FOR A 2-LINE POST, YET WAIT FOR A FUCKING SOLAR ECLIPSE WHEN THE POST IS LONGER?

okay. let me continue.

I think I would be scared straight if I knew that hell absolutely existed. But not only would hell have to be objectively, scientifically proven, but ALSO that my actions could cause me to somehow cross dimensions into one of eternal torment.

you'll have to pardon the disjointed nature of the entry. the sun should be coming up any moment.

school has been consuming me. I hate how my grades don't reflect the work I put into studying. I feel like this system of recitation and memorization is bullshit and ignores technology and the future. If my kid asks me about the GDP, i'm sending his ass to wikipedia. How much longer will teachers continue to ignore the fact that google exists, and is accessible by nearly EVERYONE in the states? I think all tests from now-on should be open-note and open-google. Anything else is just ignorant. I'm so bitter by the end of the week, i drown myself in music or anything else to not think about school. I want to pull some mafioso-shit on my textbooks. I want to cement them and dump them in the ocean. I want to leave them bound and gagged in the trunk of an abandoned car. I want to hide dismembered pages in the bedsheets of its editors for them to find when they awake.

they said these were supposed to be the best years of my life. It's been pretty incredible, but I'm hard-pressed to believe that my best days are almost behind me.

i think I am interested in people. Particular people. I exercise much prejudice in this area. Stupid people disinterest me, but fortunately, their embarrassment doesn't. That was an aside, let me continue:

Living by myself often finds me doing things just to pass the time, to get to sleep, to start over, to pass the time, etc. It can be harsh. There is an inherent dimension of seclusion, despite knowing the vast majority of my neighbors. Unfortunately, one of the mediums by which I stay connected is facebook. I will take a second to accuse facebook directly for cheapening friendships in an almost criminal manner. It occurred to me that I've accepted or requested 500+ friendships. At the moment, I think 90% of my attention is directed at a total of 10 different people--and that's me rounding up to the nearest 10. I am concerned that people don't invest in others unless there is some incentive for doing so. I'm as guilty as the next person for doing it, but I refuse to believe I'm the only one who, when seeing "friends" facebook profiles, thinks to himself

"damn you are not hot enough to use that as a profile picture, stop PLAYIN"
"why do i talk to you when you are totally un-engaging?"
"I see you in person, but I won't say high because you have a smile I've only seen come from the smuggest and douchebaggeriest of them ALL"

but then there are moments of empathy, maybe even a degree of altruism, when I want the details--I want them all. I think that is my approach to liking a girl. maybe the looks are a part of the equation, but i feel like the past and the present are the x-factors. I can't like a girl just because she's physically attractive. I am far too smart for that sheeeeit.

I want to know her whole story. I want to map out where her and my respective circles of influence intersect. I want to know the little things, the quirks, the habits, the insecurities, the clues. I want to be completely wrapped up in this giant blanket of a story and listen and listen and listen. I'm scared that this scares girls. I don't mean to be creepy, it's just that--for some people--I want to know how they were shaped into who they are, and how they cope with hurting. This system of pretenses and awkward initiations has grown stale, and leaves a "yeap. thats a bit of a saltine cracker. when did i last have that? lunch?" taste in my mouth.

but i don't know if i'm prepared for it to be abolished. I feel like i'm already heavily geared towards the system as it is, even though the flaky shit, at least my own personal details, in that regard, arent so impressive. Sometimes it feels like i have an affinity or disposition to put up a bullshit front and act a certain way when all i really want to say is that I miss my childhood a lot, loneliness sometimes sucks, and i hope i can make you smile.

it could be the game-less, hopeless romantic in me but i'm open to saying this because i'm old school in that regard.


this makes no sense.
sleep time.

crazy crazie

so i met a friend of a friend today. this guy was perhaps the most interesting living caricature i've ever met. He is a master martial arts guy, and exuded an intensity like no one i've ever met. intense. like.. really fucking intense. the guy showed us his set of swords. i believe he spent $10,000 for the three of them. real shark skin, fire-tested blades, the whole bit. He gave this intense-ass speech about the souls living in the blade, and something about requesting their permission to allow the swordsman to add to their count. at least this is what i imagined he was saying. he showed us where blood had stained one of his swords. apparently blood leaves a mark. he said all blades need to feel blood. he really said that. and then he recounted the tail of a deer he beheaded (after it was shot) with his fucking. ninja. sword.

i think the guy pisses testosterone and shit machismo. i imagine him to go to a drive-through like mcdonalds and have a dialog like this:

intensemofo: Hey! I WANT A NUMBER FIVE.
mcdonalds employee: okay, a number five? what kind of drink do you want with that?
intensemofo: FUCK YOU! I WANT A NUMBER FIVE!
mcdonalds employee: ....

I would bet that his blood pressure is in the neighborhood of 500/7. this guy was THAT FUCKING INTENSE. he was so intense that i feel like i'm on 24 right now and that macguyver is guest-starring with me and is making a lockpick out of a popped balloon and a yo-yo.

the guy took us out to some places in the area and talked about how there were so many girls. he didnt say it so much in a chester way as it was in a kind of lonely, "bullshit women exist. where do they live? in the north pole with santa claus? no such thing as a woman...HOLY SHIT ITS A WOMAN" sort of way. this what i mean by caricature.

he drank a bunch by himself. i'm sure he's not going to sleep tonight. rather, he will sit in a room with paper walls and hold his sword. like a ninja.

man i think im going to shit a ninja star.

in other news, this was on wired (i cant find the article). roaming bands of rockabillies and hardcore fans are going around jumping emo kids. i find this kind of funny. they call them emosexuals. apparently emo kids are responding and protesting their right to.. literally be "emo". seriously. shut the fuck up. we all feel sad here and there, but the day i let a fucking dashboard confessional cd determine my lifestyle is the same day i get "soulja boy is god" tattooed on my face.

QUESTION!!

does true love come with age?

I'm not that old, but i have friends getting engaged. to them all, i wish the best marriage they can possibly have, and I hope that it is all and more than what they expected it to be, but maaaaan i feel like... im nowhere near what it takes to commit on that level.

then again, maybe i've never experienced it.

the other night, i was going to a friends house party. In order to cover up the smell of [redacted], i spritzed a bit too much of my cologne. I'm scared that i came off as "that guy," you know, the crazy foreigner you sit next to on the plane that's doused on drakkar (i dont rock the drakkar). That was a weird feeling. It occurred to me AFTER i had applied the scent that it was too much. i tried to rub some off, but maaan, it was pungent. i must have been on some sex panther shit. you know what they say? 60% of the time it works... every time.

stuffy noses suck

its why my voice is all jacked and nasal

oh well

mindstyle - a superstar in flashing lights

the audio quality sucks since i ripped my instrumentals off youtube.

Tum Tum - Haterz - Mindstyle Remix

Tum Tum - haterz mindstyle remix

young'ns

i was on the dillo today and there was what i assumed to be a chinese family. I assume because of how disjointedly they say, with the father on the side bench facing the left of the car, wife and toddler on one row facing the front, with grandma a bench or two back. The kid was pretty cute, and was missing a shoe for some reason. He was fobbed out in pastel yellow sweatpants and a shirt with a big cartoon animal on it and stripes on the sleeve. It occurred to me that if the animal were removed and the shirt was about 4590683x bigger, it would look like this shirt i got from fcuk.

all i think about is stupid shit.

but this kid was staring at me, now and then, in the way that toddlers do. They don't understand the discomfort of constant eye contact, which is something I'd like to enjoy. Maybe its true what they say about the eyes being windows into the soul. I felt like I should have something to hide. I wanted to tell him that it was indeed a cold, cold world, but the beauty is there if you look for it.

i'm going to have the most messed up kids ever.

What do advertisers think of the demographic that watches tv at 2.a.m?

we are clearly unsaved, balding, have bad complexion, love amateur porn, love to cook and are constantly in need of cutlery and blenders, and/or have or colons completely weighed down by years of buildup.

I have one of those mashimaru dolls hanging from my rearview. I got it back in 02 in Korea. It's been through 2 cars and has often kept me company between san antonio and houston and austin and houston. Should I keep it? What does a stuffed doll hanging from the mirror say about someone? or more specifically, me?

If I ever had a stupid amount of disposable income, I'm pretty sure I'd want to breed fireflies. I think they're my new favorite animal. bioluminescence is pretty badass. They make anything ordinary seem like it's in a fairy tale. I think they are the only bugs I could learn to love. Roaches and umm... every other invertebrate (not usually meant for American consumption) I will always hate.

word.

Easter Sunday

I woke up today a little earlier to go check out First Evangelical-Free Church, aka ev-free. I thought that things were going to be contemporary, but we ended up at the traditional service. The weather was nice and it definitely felt like a .. typical church experience. They sang hymnals and passed around woodgrain offering plates. Pretty quickly, the weekend caught up and i was knocked out.

maybe i dont find these services important anymore... that the direction of my life doesn't hinge on anyone's lips, except either God's or my own. I guess there's no urgency in my attendance. Maybe it was the old-school feeling i got from the service. who knows...

I don't know if i ever really articulated my beliefs. I seem to have this specific conversation a lot, so I might just put it out there in the hopes that I don't have to constantly explain myself.

I am currently unable to reconcile science and religion. Try as I might to believe in religion, the picking and choosing of which aspects of natural law to accept to substantiate one's theory of "how life began" is a bit annoying. I have a hard time believing that ethnicity was a by-product of a spiteful God who didn't like how tall a building was getting.

I also have a hard time relating to Christianity in this asian-american context anymore. It's been a similar experience for anyone involved, but I feel like it's just becoming ignorant. people aren't real about their business anymore--at least that's the vibe I get. And I'm embittered at the way I was indoctrinated into this faith from such an early age. I think i'm messed up psychologically from having been told that i committed the most grievous or wrongs by the time i was 5. I'm pretty sure by 7, I must have considered myself the most evil person in the world. I hate that feeling. Isn't it dangerous to so irresponsibly wield guilt in context of children? To lord over fiery eternities and gnashing of teeth to kids who didn't share their fruit snacks? it sucks that that's what happened.

God feels like an imaginary friend to me. An imaginary friend that everyone i seem to know knows about, but not someone I know personally--at least not anymore. People say that He talks to them, but "talking" just seems to be a synonym for "arbitrary assignment of outcomes to vague suspected causes." God's use of dreams and inner monologues, things that are ridiculously subjective, ambiguous, or inconsistent, makes it difficult for me to think that divine communication exists-- as much I want it to.

If you could erase all the times you heard that "God is love" or that God is the arbiter of love and all things good, and evaluated Him simply as a character from literature, would you see him as loving as you've been told to? Or would He come off as one torn between moments of incredible compassion and moments of unprejudiced destruction? It seems the more I think about things, the less perfect they are.

With that out of the way, let's continue our lives.

So Lonely

Mindstyle - so lonely

Serenade the streets of LA

Here's the song

Mindstyle - Serenade the Streets of LA
yeah i made the beat, too

LA

So I spent the bulk of Spring break in LA. I don't know if it was the contrast from leaving a cold, dark, foggy DFW and arriving in 70-degree, sunny LA, or the way 2pac sounds better when played in California, but it's my goal to move out to the west once I graduate.

I graduate in mid-May.

I was talking to a friend that I hadn't spoken with in several months last night. She had mentioned that she was in San Jose (completely unexpected) working on her rotations. Having spent some time in California before, I guess she wasn't as impressed this time around. Then again, she always knew that Houston was home. I told her that I was determined to get to LA, and then she asked how it was so easy to make such a decision--how I could leave behind my support network.

How's that for an interesting idea.. "support network"?

I have incredible friends here in Texas, the few that I have... but the vast majority of my friends are getting to a point in life where they feel like it's time to settle down. I, on the other hand, don't feel like I've given enough of a shot towards doing what I want to do--making music and living like a devo. Vain? yes. Self-serving? UN-ABASHED-LY! But in all seriousness, I do want to confront the hungry beast that is the entertainment industry and I want to do something for Asian-Americans specifically in that regard.

I'm a city boy by heart, and coming from Houston... I can only go up. I'm going to get sodomized on rent no matter what coast I live on, so I might as well pick the one with better weather. and In-n-out. and Kush. and food.

I will admit that I don't have much of a game plan. There's an advertising firm I am somewhat interested in working for, and I think the position is pretty close to "in the bag" for me. The only thing that's concrete was the urgent feeling of me needing to be there. I felt that by being there, I was doing something I should have been doing. That, and my determination in finding a job that I will love.

We'll see what happens.

Hello, Hello, They Know, Ya-Yo

I'll cut to the chase. I miss blogging, but I hate what xanga has become and I hate facebook notes. Rather, I dislike how impersonally notes are displayed. Rarely do I ever feel like fully addressing every one of my facebook "associates." Nothing is that important, really.

I was originally going to title this blog "before the onset," as I've found that living by myself and dropping out of church has almost entirely made me a hermit. Then I realized that that title is pretty goth, and--despite my moments of self-loathing--I am far too incredible for that. I did want to chronicle my daily exploits and monitor my abilities in staying a step ahead of depression, something I timidly admit that I feel I am on the cusp of falling into.

Music, my few friends, and weed are pretty much the only vices I have.

With that said, I was trying to nab "the benchwarmers" as my blog name, and then "los benchwarmers" since "the" was taken. The Benchwarmers was originally going to be the name that my music would be released under, but I soon came to realize that I was the only benchwarmer and that my label was indeed a label of one. The idea was that my music was unsupported and a bit unexpected, in the same vein as "independent" music (no, not webbie and not in an avril lavigne-sort of way), and that the benchwarmer was the kid that played the hardest since no one expected him to. So with "the benchwarmer" taken, I am going with "el benchwarmer." The tex-mex flare added to my definitive article doesn't hurt either.

It's been a while, but I'm glad to be blogging once again. My fifteen minutes begins... NOW!