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!