I could sing into the night and watch my notes skip upon the clouds. Bouncing off other people’s dreams as I fight off imaging things. A terror wheel I seem to spin when eyes close to this world, the only world I have ever known. Terrors from somewhere, not my past. Surely not the history of a man coming to grip his ankles as he tries to stride forward one step at a time. It can’t be a grave because I missed that bullet of effort. No it must be another nature that halts my forward progress. Hands as steady as rain, I have never known. I will never know.
Journal Entry 48
… and I will never change. I see the world through tint. The different colors of my shades present the many facets of my personality. What mood am I in today?
The doorman calls me “Mr. Banks” as I leave the building. He is a Category D and would never make the collection. Still… what would it be like to play along his ribcage with my knife? One can wonder… I roll the idea around my tongue.
I stroll amongst them, a shining example no one notices. But they will notice me one day. All shapes, sizes, ages, nationalities, I see them all and shudder trimmers of desire.
Not just any can make the cut. An audition worthy of Broadway is held each day as I allow my sensations to take over and visualize the moment with each… Not a Category B today, no I will indulge myself and will not settle for second class meat.
The decision has been made and my hands start to sweat with the sheer joy from the anticipation. There is no stopping me from having what I want… what I need. It will be quiet in the night once more… soon once again.
Why not right? I have already been called a dumbass and an asshole this week, so I might as well have some fashion bloggers tell me how stupid I am to top it off! Here is my take on current fashion.
I am not fashionable. I was once… when bouncers were letting me skip everyone in line. It doesn’t take much, just move to Knoxville and be the only Asian guy that cares to befriend bouncers. They will remember you (there aren’t a lot of Asians in Knoxville if you didn’t know).
When I was into style and my clothes, back before the shackles of marriage, I would normally wear either Polo, Structure (before they changed their name), and Banana Republic. I am sure you can now label me pretty easily.
I take my family to the mall a lot. The girls like to walk around, I people watch, and my wife will do some shopping. I will normally play that game where you try to avoid any and all human contact… all the while also trying to appear “normal.” I get to observe a lot of fashion trends because of this and of course I have an opinion.
My wife has tried to explain how the whole “certain colors for certain seasons” works. I think I get it. Women wear colors that complement the season as some sort of “ninja vanish” trick so they can get close enough to stab you. At least I think that is what is going on. Also I learned shoes have to match. Just because the shoes are “dirty” doesn’t classify them as brown.
There are many trends I don’t understand. Why do “younger mothers” wear the same clothes as their older daughters? Is there some type of discount at gap if you get the same outfit in two sizes? I think it is awkward if you can’t tell a mother apart from her daughter… but I guess some people think that is “hot?” If you aren’t near the age of Forever 21, should you be shopping there? It does say “forever” though doesn’t it?
Why do women buy clothes just to hang them in their closet? I wonder how many women here have clothes with price tags STILL on them. I do not get this at all. Please, someone explain it to me! Also… women you realize that malls always have a “sale” going on right? Husbands are you still falling for this trick? “Honey there is a SALE going on!!!” I worked retail… there is always a sale. We kind of just moved those stickers around…
Maybe this is a Colorado thing, but I seem to only see two outfits on males here. A Broncos jersey (GO PEYTON!) or this new “BMX Biker” look. I suppose this isn’t really a “new look,” but it is to me! Everywhere I glance there are “X Gamers” walking around and I am half tempted to start asking for autographs.
Asians that wear “really” Asian clothing in public. Just stop! Please!!!
I am from the South and the topic of choice for the longest time was sagging jeans. I personally like my comfort and my jeans are definitely not up to my neck… but if I can see your ass then that is just wrong. Pull that shit up. You aren’t running from any dogs, cops, or women with knives with your jeans like that you know.
At a certain point “parents” have to retire those college T-shirts we love soooo much. I enjoy seeing a father and a mother walking in the mall with their kids, until I see that their shirts say “I’m with Stupid” and “Freshman Forever!!!” At some point people have to grow up…
I really hate the mall because of those kiosks that now rule the “center aisle.” Those people that man those stations are bulldogs. I almost had an Italian woman chase me down with lotion that I needed to “fix my face.” OUCH! Lmao…
I avoid words I don’t know how to spell and abuse words I don’t know how to use. I conform the meaning of phrases to my meaning and sacrifice the soul of the maker. I write my heart every day and it is black. Like ink as I spray it across fields of white. If only I were painting something of worth. It looks like finger paint. I am one horrible writer.
I get a ton of amusement out of the emails I receive from people letting me know that I have offended them and that they are now going to promptly unfollow me. I am still amazed at the time and energy some people put into these emails, almost on par with quitting a job. I thought it might be fun to share some of the more popular reasons I have received.
“You need to stop writing on women’s issues. You don’t have a vagina and until you do you will never have a way of understanding the opposite sex.” How about you keep the vagina, I keep writing my opinions, and you choose to go read other blogs? I suggest Freshly Pressed.
“You post far too much. Quality over quantity buddy!” While it hurts that you basically just told me my articles suck… I will suck it up. It will be hard. I think I’ll just keep doing what I am doing and you can click the unfollow button.
“You never say more than a few words in response to my comments, but I see you respond in length to other bloggers.” Maybe those other bloggers are saying more interesting things than you…. Especially if the only thing that draws you out is to complain that “I am not fair.” Boohoo…
“You have turned into a marketing blogger. I signed up to read a writer.” Ouch… I guess selling two eBooks for a short period, posting about marketing, and helping entrepreneurs out constitutes as being a “marketing blogger.” I will now add this to my LinkedIn skills!
“Your views on abortion are insulting and an infringement against my freedom.” Wait, did someone actually make me President?!? I have been waiting for so long!!! Move over Obama.
“You don’t respect women.” You’re right; I don’t respect a general term. I also don’t respect Asians, blacks, whites, men, or stop lights unless I feel like it. I RESPECT PEOPLE WITH NAMES, not out of obligation. Try it.
“You keep spreading this lie that anyone can reach your popularity. You also keep sharing powerblogging secrets.” I didn’t realize there was a “powerblogger club” I was supposed to join. Did my invite get lost in the mail? You want me to sit in the back??? Yes, I do tell people that they can gain whatever audience they desire. This is not some bullshit attempt at motivational speaking, it is the simple truth. Maybe it is not true for people that have no ambition, motivation, or faith though.
“You say things best left unsaid.” No I say things that should be said. People that think this are normally REALLY pissed off by the fact that people are actually reading my words.
To those bloggers I have offended enough to either want to write or have written one of these emails to me I wish you the best. Don’t send me these dumbass emails though. I really could care less why you decide to unfollow me and the sun will still rise tomorrow.
- I don’t recycle. I just don’t… and I really could care less about the animals in the ocean. In fact it might be safer without them.
- People handing out advertisements or Girl Scout Cookies will sometimes receive what they think is “Korean” back. I actually don’t speak Korean… but it has sounded believable for 20 years.
- Sometimes I pretend to be asleep so people will go away. It is amazing how quickly a person will become bored with you if you are audibly snoring.
- I don’t move over for bikers of any kind and I don’t consider your oversized toy a car. This will probably never change.
- If you ask me my nationality I will many times tell you a random Asian country. It is because I am an asshole.
- I mumble a lot and then play it off by staring into space. When you stare into space people get uncomfortable and generally leave you alone…
- I will purposefully stop traffic to give to a homeless person if I see tons of cars pass them. Yes this is “reactive charity” but it is also the point of being bothered by the coldness of society.
- I don’t speak Spanish and never plan to. I also don’t think a person should have to speak Spanish to live in America. If everyone isn’t required to speak Korean (which wouldn’t make a bad law) then there should be no similar requirement for ANY language other than English in this great nation.
- I never say “Bless You” when someone sneezes. The silence is sometimes audible after such an occurrence… as if god is waiting for me to say it. I will, however, sometimes say “Devil Be Gone” and splash fake holy water on them.
- I don’t do “ice breakers.” To me an ice breaker is a single glass of Macallan 25 and ZERO human contact.
You stand far too close to me. Are you standing this close because you heard rubbing against an Asian is good luck?
You pop your gum constantly… for hours on end. It causes me to want to climb a wall OR to go over and hit you on the back causing you to spit the gum on the floor. I would then jump up and down on that gum with petulant glee screaming “you done popping yet? ARE YOU???”
I hate how you have a new movement each week. One day you are walking around in a whale outfit and the next you are laying down in front of my SUV while I am trying to drive away saying “I am murdering the ozone.” I can’t keep up with you!
I hate how you count how many drinks I have had. I am keeping count just fine myself. I put the tops in my pocket. Let’s see I have five… ten… more than a few here apparently…
I hate how you suck the fun out of things. You don’t even need to wave a wand you seem to just absorb the fun in the room. I bet if you bumped into a clown you would kill him by contact.
I hate that you are from a different country and think that you know how “America is” because you have visited here once. I have lived here for 30 years and I still don’t understand this batshit country.
I hate that you have a sign that says “Pro-Choice, Abortion Rights” in one hand and in the other you have “Save the Dolphins.” Fuck the dolphins.
I hate people telling me not to say the word “hate.” I love saying hate because everything else is not worth mentioning.
I hate your perfect sentence because I didn’t write it.
I hate people that are famous for being famous. Naming no names here, but it makes me jealous as hell.
1. Play “Eye of the Tiger” while you shower. That is a magical experience. Seriously try it.
2. Convince the spouse to have sex in the morning. Everyone has sex at night… boring! Morning sex really is awesome. Awesome.
3. Tell the woman at Starbucks that your name is Superman/Superwoman. Hearing your name or seeing it written will make you feel crazy good. Crazy good!
4. Eat a burger at Outback Steakhouse in America. If you are from a foreign country… well it must suck not to be American. I got lucky and was drafted from Korea.
5. Drink a morning beer. I don’t know what it is with connecting the image of an alcoholic to morning beverage consumption. On average a fridge presents very few options mostly consisting of either orange or apple juice, milk, and a various selection of beers. It is therefore a rational human response to grab a can of bud lite. Everyone knows it is just like water… plus a few nutritious ingredients. What the hell is the problem here?
6. Buy a number one from McDonalds and don’t you dare use location as an excuse. Everyone knows there is a freaking McDonalds in every country except North Korea.
7. Hear the words “I love you” from anyone, even if you have to give $10 to the crackhead on the corner. An “I love you” is all about feelings.
8. Tell someone at work you are dying. It is amazing how nice people are to you, honestly amazing…
9. Say “OM” in the morning. You might even make a wish and if it comes true I take full credit.
10. Call in sick to work. Honestly is there any better feeling than calling in sick to work?
1. You yell out a complaint about being short at 5’10” and then turn around and run into a midget convention. They are not happy.
2. Instead of your caramel macchiato you get served a mocha nasty latte. That is always a sign of a bad day.
3. You hit every red light on the way to work. Apparently god hates you.
4. You walk out the door to work and run over a Jehovah ’s Witness.
5. Your Ex from five years ago calls you and immediately says “we need to talk.”
6. You read a post about “10 signs of a bad day” and you recognize a few of the signs from your own day!
7. You open it and there is nothing there.
8. You order a camel and it has no humps.
9. A polar bear calls you and informs you that someone has peed on your igloo and there is now a new door. This only happens in Canada.
10. You show up for a blind date and “Cindy” has an Adam’s apple.
Could I chain your heart to my resolve. Living with the knowledge that your action is a reaction to my inaction. It creates a quandary of the mind as we seek a middle and an end to what seems a never ending circle. Could I break your golden crown and tie you to a will. The will of the moment, a desire to have. I ponder many a thought in between breathes. They weigh equally on the scale of morality, but certainly they still all belong to humanity. For at night I am human. As are we all.
Sometimes I come across a blog post with tons of comments and I am baffled. I am baffled not because the post has a lot of interaction, but rather because I have no freaking idea what anyone is talking about! It doesn’t happen often, but it has been known to happen especially in the blog world. The most recent post was a rant on religion and I had never heard of the sect they were speaking of, which is a bit troubling considering I was a religious studies major. I must have sucked as a student because I had never heard of the religion these bloggers were talking about nor the “god” they were referring to. Now don’t be angry “god,” it doesn’t mean you aren’t important somewhere.
I think the most amusing part is the amount of passion some of these posts carry, which is even more baffling to me when I don’t know to what they are referring. Has that ever happened to you? I almost feel like I am missing out on something hugely important… if I didn’t know for a fact that everyone thinks their religion is the shit.
I asked as a daily opinion what time period you would like to live during if you were able to time travel. My answer would be back in the days of knights… but more of a romantic knight. I thought long and hard on the name and I came up with Sir Jason the Opportunist. Has a nice ring of truth to it. If I see a damsel in distress over say… her cat in a tree. I will be there to save her! Lost dog on the manor? Sir Jason to the rescue! Dragon attacking the village…? Isn’t there a town watch or something for that kind of stuff?
Opportunity keeps a man alive! Never was that more true than further back into history when the price of a man was cheaper than dirt. You had to have brains and know when to show your brawn, and when to turn tail and run… for reinforcements because a General doesn’t fight in the front lines. That is just stupid… what kind of chess are you playing?
Women there is one bite of the meal that you should never attempt to take. It really doesn’t matter if you are a girlfriend, wife, or the Queen of England the last bite of a meal is off limits! I mean honestly, who takes the last bite of a guy’s meal? Oh right… women do. That just isn’t right! That is in many ways the equivalent to stealing the last breath from someone. You going to use that oxygen? Yes? Well too bad! Let me stab my fork in it!
I have always enjoyed to write, but never considered myself a writer. This blog is still a hobby, no matter how much work it takes or how many hours it consumes. The potential is there, but for now it is not a profession since I still have a day job. I write, but I am not a writer yet.
I suppose when I hear that someone is a writer I automatically assume they are an author. My mother is an author and I really respect the word. This is not to say there aren’t a lot of bad authors out there that honestly should reconsider if what they write should be considered writing. Those exist, but at least they are marketing themselves and selling something. I am not so I really can’t judge, but perhaps one day.
I hope one day I can claim to be an author and it be the truth. Not another Barney Stinson’s stunt… but in all seriousness the music of my soul is the sound of a keyboard. I love it and it almost (I did say almost) doesn’t matter what I am writing, just as long as my fingers are moving and something appears on my screen before me. I love when it is my creation and my thoughts streaming along with the action of my hands. We live in such a busy world now with constant action. My ADHD causes me to need never ending entertainment in multiple forms while I am awake. I get bored easily and boredom sucks. One of the reasons I loved to gamble and I enjoyed going to casinos is because they are always open! Well technically that isn’t true, up until a few years ago the casinos in Blackhawk, CO had to close at 3 am and reopen somewhere around 8. What closing a building for 5 hours when no one actually goes home does… I have no clue. But some lawmaker must have thought it was important and we do like to strike back at those Indian casinos don’t we? I feel alive in a casino and that is why I don’t allow myself to go there much anymore. You may see me make a play at the World Series of Poker one day and if I make the final table you can all cheer for me.
There really was a point to this post, but it got lost around ADHD and the casino. Oh well…
I think one of the largest hurdles for a writer of any sort, regardless of the genre they write in, would be the lack of an imagination. To those of us that played with Mages, Kender, and Hobbits in our backyards this might sound insanely impossible. What would our worlds be like without our imaginary worlds combined that we lived in, journeyed through, and battled within our entire childhood? We were told constantly through school to focus and stay in the present. The problem is that it then becomes a chore and a foreign process to attempt to imagine as adults. Scientifically it has been proven that children have a higher aptitude for learning than adults by a certain age. We lose the glamour for learning, the need to imagine new things, and in turn our writing suffers.
I haven’t been many places in my life. I can name them and to some they may seem like a lot. Others would scoff and say that only having traveled around North America, a few igloos in Canada, and parts of Korea would be a small portion of the world. Not even worth called traveling perhaps? I said once that blogs are great windows into other worlds that we may never see. It is better than television because the pictures, stories, and the actual personalities you present are unique in and of themselves. It is because you are where you are right this moment that people will want to read your words. That shouldn’t take too much imagination to comprehend, but surprisingly people still struggle with the “why would anyone want to read my words” syndrome.
I have never traveled to the Great Pyramids. Still, I can close my eyes and feel the damp air. My shoulders start to weigh down from the rich history and the thought of so much stone above me. My eyes flicker and suddenly I am standing on the Great Wall of China. I have read a lot about this wall and it truly is remarkable. Although after walking the length of it I wonder how anyone could have thought you would see this thing from space. Still, it I feel like I am standing on so many lives… since I recall that they buried the bones of the workers into the wall itself.
I think there are many of us that live in a state of not always being here. My wife laughs and says I zone out a lot. Actually, not to correct her or anything because women are always right, I am not technically zoning out as much as I am zooming in… like a camera. And I can see images around me all the time in my head. Sometimes it causes chaos, but still other times it is simply amusing. I have always needed something to do and I guess my internal entertainment system set me up for life. Maybe this is a mental disease and some doctor has a really long term for it in some book.
You can keep your term and kiss my ass.
I once watched a sparrow die. She fluttered in the wind and fought against the inevitable. It was inspiring to watch the struggle of life. Why is it that it flares so bright right before it is snuffed out before your eyes? Why must we wait for motivation to come from some sort of sacrifice or lose? Still, I accept the moment for the moment. I observed death with a stare and did not blink before his approach.
I am not much for small talk. Anyone that corresponds with me through email knows this about me by now. I will generally avoid most questions about myself and will only answer what needs to be responded to. It isn’t so much that I think I am special or I have some identity to hide… I just don’t talk with humans very well.
I used “with” on purpose there. I can talk “to” people just fine… but I grow easily bored and distracted if I must actually interact. I will often times stare into space until they give up… Maybe that is rude. I hate being around large groups of “new people” and will generally find a way to excuse myself from such a gathering. You know sorting your sock drawer is important… right ladies?
There is very little value in small talk unless you seriously like someone, are going to date them, or are about to go to court against them. Then small talk can be useful… perhaps that is the cynic in me. Regardless, I often wonder if my lack of “communication” back is a hindrance to any real “social bond” that might be had over social media. It would be a shame if that were so, but it would also not surprise me.
I have always made friends easily, networked easily, and been able to pull social attention to myself. Like my blog, I get tired of that limelight quickly and will generally find ways to deflect that focus elsewhere. Look an abortion post…
We do what we must to survive on a day to day basis. I am just glad I don’t have more quirks or I might never function in a normal society. Maybe society is the one that is abnormal and I am simply human.
1. You had an Obama sticker on your bumper.
2. You had a Patriots or Tom Brady sticker on your car.
3. You are taking too long to order at McDonalds (the damn menu doesn’t change people!!!) and my hunger drove me to an extreme.
4. I have always been curious how durable those Smart Cars are…
5. Mr. T said I could. A-Team.
6. I am Asian and obviously think I am in Fast and the Furious. Don’t you see the extremely large muffler I put on my civic?
7. I was trying to drift in my mom’s minivan.
8. My beat up truck likes to eat a Mercedes-Benz every day.
9. You sped up to get around me and then slowed down 5 mph for no reason. I HATE THAT SHIT!
10. “They said that a manual was going to be easy to learn.”
I have a wish list for 2014. I will number them.
- I wish for 2014 to be the year no one writes about me. Either positive or negative. That would be awesome.
- I wish for more sleep. I ask for this yearly and fail yearly to have it granted.
- I really want a BMW. It doesn’t have to be new, just “newish.”
- I hope this is the year THEY come finally.
- I would like for my kids not to get sick as much this year.
- I want to write more, get better at writing, and work on dialogue.
- I wish less people would actually touch me this year. Today a guy randomly patted me on the back after a brief conversation at a store. That is cool and all… but I almost melted from human contact.
- I wish less people would have abortions.
- I just want a Super Bowl win! Who do I have to pray to for that? I am not above sabotaging a team bus…
- I wish more people would consider the stupid shit they say in public that everyone else is forced to listen to. You have every right to be as dumb as you like, but please don’t torture my ears and sanity with your drivel.
- I wish everyone in America had to retake the drivers test and actually pass this time… I want to see the test scores too. There is no way some of you actually took a legitimate test. Maybe a go-kart test or something.
- I wish the news would be less bias. All channels.
- I wish reporters would get their facts straight before reporting stories. News stations and reporters DESERVE every dollar they are sued for when they falsely report shit. Do your job right, stop cutting corners, and stop ruining random people’s lives assholes!
- I wish you were all real people. Granted, you are very talkative machines…
You wish upon a truth for a lie and cloth me in black even though I hate it. Placing capes of fantasy around my neck, you clasp it closed with a chain of obligation. Obligation to respond, to retort, to even care… when does the bad man sleep? And even as he dreams he sees their images before his eyes. They gleefully taunt because they have less to lose. Want me to be the bad guy? Ok then, I am the bad man now.
They say that you are more likely to get in an auto accident within ten minutes of your home due to complacency. The most dangerous place in America is the four-way stop. It is the only time you can observe utter confusion in every direction. The idea is fascinating, almost like a pinwheel of chance.
To the left we have Nancy who is an elderly woman on her way to a tea date. She is still on chapter one of the “how to drive manual” because she was basically given her licence by the “interested” instructor oh so many years ago. She normally just turns right.
You have straight ahead Tom who is hopped up on meth he just scored. He is on chapter 5,219 which is centered on aggressive driving. It was a chapter never meant to be written and somehow was missed in editing. Tom loves this chapter and always thinks it is his turn.
And on our right is Mary a mother of four with three children in the back. Two are arguing and one is asleep in a car seat facing the rear. Mary is trying to listen to her daily show on the radio. Mary has a good “idea” of when her turn is, but she sometimes just lets everyone go first because she is such a kind hearted woman.
The fourth “car” is a man on a bicycle, but oddly he is in the center of the lane as if he is a car. This confuses two of the three drivers, Tom really doesn’t give a shit about the guy in tights.
God above calls the others around the viewing pool. Bets are placed and harps are silenced. The wheel of chance is spun and a breath is stilled. Which one.