Things always happen fast for me. I suppose it's because I'm the kind of person who takes something when he sees what he wants. I spare little time because I'm an impatient.

I've been living as a kid with child-like views and attitudes. I've been doing a lot of things to please others, and it's that aspect of being child-like that drove me the most crazy and made me the least-happy.

Part of that rose from a harsh insecurity developed when one of my ex-best friends told me that I was selfish--mind you, he was banging my ex at the time. Still, I took it to heart for a very long time, so I made it a point to be as un-selfish as possible and please everyone I could...but in the end, I lost myself, lost my independent nature, lost my individuality, didn't really know how to formulate my own opinions. I relied on others too much.

I've felt the need to grow up recently, and now I'm committed to taking those steps, and the first step was living for myself, and really becoming able to say "fuck anyone else who expects too much out of me, or doesn't like me."

i'm likeable either way, i just won't bend my personality to pander to someone else's needs. Now, I'm allowed to be selfish, as long as it means that I'm preserving my individuality.

Now, I'm taking my life into my own hands and doing things my own way, because I need to, and I want to.

Growing up came fast for me, and I'm glad that it's on my own terms. I'm allowing myself to move myself from under what my parents see as their own ideals, and move into my own. I'm not saying that they're wrong and I'm right, but I'm doing things the way that I intend to do them.

I approach life in a different way, somewhat unconventional. My life is rarely planned, so I'm improvising a lot. Despite that, I'm setting goals for myself that I really want, and that's as much planning I've ever done in my life. But, between point a and point b, it's an elaborate improv performance. It's how I write, it's how I perform, it's how I live, and it's what's worked for me.

Making plans has always been hard for me, at least making elaborate plans. But, with some guidance and a deadline, I make things happen, I make things work.

Some see it as chaotic.

It's my process, and no one else's.

I think that this is how a lot of creative minds work, not all, but many.

Eleanor*
Eleanor, with nothing to prove, and so much to learn
Blow out your candle when you can, then let another one burn
Spread out your wings when you find the strength, right now I know it seems hard
Worry you won't when the time is right, it won't be too far

From him you're flying away
And you'll breathe easy someday
And all your beauty will shine
But it already does in my eyes

Eleanor, you're so young, your life has barely started
But you've seen the storm, been in the eye, and now the sea has parted
You'll take a step into the fold when you find the courage
The world awaits with wide open arms, then you'll see the Sun will flourish

When you lose what you've cherished
You've never known pain like this
But soon your beauty will shine
Like it already does in my eyes

(*Note: I'm going back and forth by using this fictional name, and the real name in this song. It may change. I don't know. That, and using the real name makes me feel kinda creepy for some reason.)

It's funny how things relatively unrelated to you can somehow inspire you. In any case, it had been at least 3 months since I'd finished a song, until today, when I cranked out two songs, both inspired by the same thing.

Superguy
You've been cryin' and I've been there before
It's times like these it feels like nothing could hurt more
When the tears, they burn the sides of your cheek
Of you're trying to be strong, but all you feel is weak

Bridge:
But it took strength to say you're going away
After you couldn't take another excuse to stay
And it takes time to finally say you're fine
But if you want, right now I'll wipe the tears from your eyes

Chorus:
If you need someone to say everything will be alright
Then you can keep me right by your side tonight
And if you need to get away I'll take you for a ride
If you want I can be your SuperGuy

It's not easy, no one said it would be
It's not your fault that he's a mess and he left you stressed
But the tears will dry after they roll of your cheek
You're trying to be strong, but it's okay to feel weak

Repeat bridge
Repeat chorus

I don't wear a cape
I don't fly through the air
But I won't make the mistake
Of making you feel like I don't care

I don't know why these songs make me feel weird. Maybe because I'm really socially distant from the inspiration. Maybe I shouldn't feel weird, they're just songs.

The nitty-gritty:

Love: Call me.
Hate: I'll get back to you.

I'm going to be real. It's been a long, long time since I've been on a date...even longer since I've been on a date with a good looking/quality woman.

Yes, I'm admitting that I've "slummed" it.

I just need...

It's not hard to figure out what I need.

You fill in the big blanks.

I feel too much like hell to dwell on it any more than I already have.

I love words.
I hate words.

I'm turning 24 this week, and it's like: whatever.

Still, I'd like to party like it means something. I mean, it's a reason to party.

You know how some people just rub you the wrong way?
I've got a case of that right now.

I'm tired of Orange County. It's the same shit every single day. I guess that's a reason why I'm barely blogging these days. That, and I've no inspiration. So, my songwriting is in the dumps right now.

The things I want right now:
To be inspired.
A second source of income.
To not feel so lost everyday.
To not feel like I'm losing everyday.

When I say losing, I don't mean win-loss losing, I mean I lost some spare change losing. Just to clarify.

I'm wasting my days because I don't know where they're heading. It's quite the double-edged sword.

I'll try the gym tomorrow, if I can get my ass out of bed, seeing how I'm working all night ('til 2).

The coolest things I got for Christmas:

1. Solid friendships.
2. Forgiveness.
3. Nintendo Wii.

I've got to say that those things made my Christmas pretty ballerific like it's all terrific.

Between a crisis averted a few nights before Christmas, crazy conversations at the dinner table on Christmas, and a late night out after Christmas night, it was really rad.

Conversations at the dinner table with family included the following:
-My older uncle making an outright mention of Viagra.
-One of my younger cousins' issue with toe-socks, and me "outing" him in front of the family.
-Condoms as a "coming of age" birthday gift.
-My aunt wondering if I'm ever going to have kids, and me insisting that "I'm sterile. There's nothing going on down there." (I'm not sterile, but there hasn't been anything going on down there for awhile.)

It was fun times.

Afterwards, I met up with an old friend and caught up on old times, before I was a total jerk to her. I was forgiven. The first forgiveness on a long list of people that I've needed/wanted to apologize to for me being an asshole in the past. It's kind of a Broken Flowers/High Fidelity sort of thing.

Also, at Paul's in Orange, the bartender taught me a couple new and easy shots. Pretty rad. They're light and tasty.

I'm still working on re-opening doors to people, and hoping to God that some doors are still open to me.

 I've been doing some songwriting lately, among other things.

I really enjoy the fact that I was able to put the phrase I'm the shit, and you're so cool in a song.

Here are the lyrics to a couple new songs, and the stories behind them.

Love Is Overrated
This stupid feeling in my chest,
So hard to breathe, so hard to rest,
I say I hate it.
You're everything I'm thinking of,
Except of what I think of love,
It's so overrated.

But anything worth having is overstated all the time,
So why should I see falling for you as some misdemeanor crime?
When I'm the shit and you're so cool, and I can't take my eyes off you,
We talk and talk the whole night through, laughing like a couple fools.

I can't stand
How you make me smile.
I can't stand
How you make my heart beat so damn wildly.

I kiss your cheek at every chance
And toast a drink to dear romance,
It's complicated.
When we part, I'm looking back
Like some stupid sorry sack,
Love's so overrated.

But anything worth having is overstated all the time,
So why should I see falling for you as some misdemeanor crime?
When I'm the shit and you're so cool, and I can't take my eyes off you,
We talk and talk the whole night through, laughing like a couple fools.

I can't stand
The softness of your skin.
I can't stand
The way I swear that you were born to do me in.

I wrote that song because I've really been wanting to incorporate the theme of love being some huge overrated thing, but still having it be some inescapable truth that everyone eventually faces. I think that there were some themes that sort of reflect things that have been going on with me, but I'm not in love. Still, I don't see myself being in love anytime soon, but no matter what I think of it, it will always be a possibility. I can curse it all I want, I can say I hate it all I want, but deep down, I really love it. It's a cynical song, it's a sarcastic song, it's a pretty real song that I think a lot of single guys and girls my age can relate to.

Okay, next song.

The World's Beauty
She's got the world all tied up,
Wrapped around her finger.
Throwing caution to the wind,
Paying no mind to danger.
She knows the world is watching
So she puts on a show.
But when the world unravels
Tell me where does she go?

She's passing past all of the little things
That used to make her little pretty heart sing.
She's passing past so fast away from her past,
How long can she last?

Stop! Take a look around,
Everything you're looking for has already been found.
Stop! Take a look and see,
You've been missing out on all of the world's beauty.

He's got the world figured out,
Can't no one tell him different.
If you told him to slow down,
Chances are he won't listen.
"Don't you know father knows best?"
Seems the boy could care less.
"If you keep the pace you go,
You're gonna run out of breath."

He's passing past all of the little things
That used to make his little hardened heart sing.
He's passing past so fast away from his past,
How long can he last?

Stop! Take a look around,
Everything you're looking for has already been found.
Stop! Take a look and see,
You've been missing out on all of the world's beauty.

They're passing past all of the little things
That used to make their little hardened hearts sing.
They're passing past so fast away from their pasts,
How long can they last?
How long can they last?

Stop! Take a look around,
Everything you're looking for has already been found.
Stop! Take a look and see,
You've been missing out on all of the world's beauty.

I debuted that song on guitar the other night, and I think it came out beautifully. The first verse is what I think of a particular girl. A part of me thinks that she wants so much attention, and she gets it a lot, but at what cost. Is it just a vacant audience? Is this attention all that she's got going for her? The second verse is semi-autobiographical, and a little bit about a friend of mine. The whole song is just about slowing down and re-evaluating all the things in the world that we consider "important." Really, at the end of the day, at the end of our lives, what's really important?

Important is not the people we've impressed, or the things we've accomplished. At the risk of becoming super preachy and a little religious, I think that "important" is this God's green Earth with which we have been blessed. "Important" is our loved ones, the people that love us. We, as a people, take and take so much from the world in terms of possessions, however, there are people around the world that don't even have a fraction of what the average American has, and yet they still find happiness and have meaningful lives. So, I decided to explore what's really important in this lifetime.

I've got to say that I've been flying high lately.

It used to be that I'd walk in a room, and people would say 'hey,' and I'd be meek as all hell acknowledging people. Or, I'd just be outrageous.

Neither of those things are healthy, they created a negative frame in which people saw me in. I was either withdrawn, or extremely exuberant. In any case, I was instable.

These days, I walk into a room, and I beam with confidence. People still notice me, but my head is tilted a little higher, and the confidence that I'm brimming with makes me smile. People notice me for the good that's within me, and I'd say that's pretty dope.

I like that confidence.

I think it comes from knowing who my friends are, and knowing that I've got their support, and that they really care about my happiness the same way I care about theirs. There's no selfishness in these relationships, and I really like that things are that way.

That being said, knowing who my friends are, finding a girlfriend has really taken a nose-dive in my priorities. Lord knows it used to be my highest priority...but it just doesn't seem that important. I'm open to having my mind changed and all...but for now, my mind-set is just based on having as much fun as possible.

The weirdest thing is, I think that I've physically changed very little. I'm no slouch, but I'm still like a teapot: short and stout. In spite of my physical diminutiveness, I've felt more attractive these days. It's the confidence.

I'm not confident because I'm attractive.
I'm attractive because I'm confident.

Oh, the sweet secret of my success.

Last week's new skill: Palmistry (Palm reading).
This week's new skill: Perfecting my massage.

Last night, while I was studying how to read palms*, I decided to just expunge some thoughts as to why I'm choosing the career path of journalism/writing.

(*Yes, I'm trying to teach myself palm reading. Don't ask why.)

I watched a lot of SportsCenter this last weekend, and it was a really good week in sports, namely college football. However, in the highlight reels, one piece really captured my attention. I don't remember who the player was, or what team it was (I was watching these highlights at a hookah bar), but the clip was of a baseball player hitting a home run.

A day later, I wrote about it, and how moments like those affect my writing.

-----

Baseball: A Reason Why I'm a Writer

I knew I wanted to be a writer after the songs stopped coming out of me. There were all of these emotions that I hadn't yet explored in music, and they needed to come out.

When I see a baseball player hit a home run, and see that he knows he hit one, I don't see a ball travelling 375 feet, I see the paramount of self-satisfaction in a moment of time. For a few seconds, the batter is able to stand at home plate, with his bat extended past his back-shoulder, and see a small piece of leather disappear in the distance. In that time, he needn't sprint base-to-base 90-feet at a time, he will trot a 360 foot lap dedicated to a momentary victory.

This is not a victory in the sense of a tally in the win-column. This is a victory against physics.

A round sphere spins and curves forward at breakneck speed and finds contact with a wooden cylinder in the fraction of a millisecond. In the physical world, there should only be a miniscule chance that these two objects collide in a way that the ball flies in a particular desired direction.

The baseball field transcends the physical world in the one fell swoop of a baseball bat.

The crowd roars and heads arch back to follow the trajectory of a flying pile of leather and lace.

A dugout clears to congratulate the hero of the moment.

This is a home run to me.
This is baseball.
This is one reason out of one trillion why I'm a writer.

Drama is everywhere.
Drama is permanent, and it is also fleeting.
Drama, in its purest form, is beauty.

I write to capture these fleeting moments.

You need as much ballast as possible to stop you from floating away; you need people around you, things going on, otherwise life is like some film where the money ran out, and there are no sets, or locations, or supporting actors, and it's just one bloke on his own staring into the camera with nothing to do and nobody to speak to, and who'd believe in this character then?

So, I've begun reading Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, with ardent enthusiasm really. As a result, I've developed a fancy for Hornby's writing style, and the fact that he ends nearly every chapter with some life-long insight that can bite the hell out of you.

Granted, I'm no thirty-something, but I can relate to the character of Rob Fleming (Rob Gordon in the film version, equally as brilliant). There's a certain cynicism, a tone of self-deprication, some past-due awkwardness that speaks to me. It's quite understandable to realize why this novel became an international bestseller.

It's fairly difficult to shut out the movie while reading the book, however, the images and ideas from the movie aren't really a bad thing to draw upon, especially as an American, since the book takes place in London and the movie takes place in Chicago. I know nothing about London. I know more about Chicago than the average Southern Californian.

Adaptations are tricky, I mean book to movie adaptations. You've really got to hope that whoever is handling the film version of a novel (or graphic novel or comic series even) is a real fan of the work.

John Cusack and the crew behind the film version of High Fidelity really loved the book, and stayed true to the spirit and ideas of the novel, only changing the locale of the story, therefore, it was a very good film adaptation.

Same with the Fight Club adaptation. I feel that the film version was a masterful adaptation of the original novel, accentuating all the things that couldn't be seen in the novel (example: the narrator's apartment becoming a 3-d version of an Ikea-esque catalogue, not only genius, but relates the message of the work in an incredible way).

Films can only go so far though. The most common complaint I've heard about book-to-film adaptations is that the film skips parts of a book. Books are brilliant for the fact that they can become as detailed as they'll ever need to be. Good films based on books don't skip vital portions of a story, but they always include the most important parts of a story.

My last little note may explain why I'm so constantly down:
(I believe this passage was in the film)

...What came first--the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all these records turn you into a melancholy person?

People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands--literally thousands--of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss. The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don't know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness, but I do know that they've been listening to the sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives.

Okay, you learn something new everyday. What'd I learn?
Shooting b-roll footage at night, alone, in Downtown Fullerton is not as easy as I'd hoped.

Yeah...I've gotta reschedule that idea soon.

I haven't been feeling all that great these past few days...but you've gotta try and move on.

The idea of being in a relationship was completely soured yesterday. I was in line at Chipotle, during a busy peak...and I'm stuck behind a couple. They were about 18 or 19 years old...but they were so disgustingly lovey-dovey that I got tooth-ache, and I was surprised I was able to hold my appetite.

The idea of being that attached to someone just seems weird to me.

I don't know what's weirder, that idea, or the fact that I feel that way.

These days, I'm not really attracted to anyone at all, not in any way like I used to be attracted to girls left and right. The most I really ever feel for another girl is a quick fleeting crush...typically on a female musician that I'll maybe see at open mic for one or two sessions. Fleeting is the right word.

When I think about it, I might only be interested in one girl...yes, a singer-songwriter...but, "interested" is a stretch...it's a small crush. I see her maybe once a month, seeing that's how often she does shows at Plush. The last time I saw her, I was really under the weather, so it just seemed very inopportune and inappropriate to ask her out for coffee. Despite that, I wasn't crushed...because I'll see her again after she's done touring.

It wasn't until recent that I realized that I realized "Hey, she's cute, and I'd like to see her before her next show at Plush."

Still...this crush is only minutely less fleeting than others...however, it has stuck to me a little longer.

I noticed that she tinted her hair the last time I saw her. It looked good on her.

It's a stretch. We're both busy people.

She goes to school. She does shows a lot. She tours.

I go to school. I work. I'm trying to see if this music thing is going anywhere.

Maybe next time.

If not, I'm not crushed. It's not the end of the world...but it's a nice thought to ponder the possibility of coffee.

You know, last night, I stood up for myself.
I also played Nintendo Wii for the first time...which was just as rad, I will add.

Instead of feeling forced to be something I no longer want to be, I forged my own path.

I stayed fairly sober.
I had fun.
I stayed drug-free.
I pwned Wii bowling, tennis, and a mini-round of golf.
I sang.

I did not play the role of the party jack-ass.
I did not get set on fire.
I did not pop any pills.

...and I still had a lot of fun.

On a random note...John Travolta looks really, really creepy in drag.

I'm only me...
...and that's a lot to take on.

I'm working on this Elliott Smith-esque song right now. It's darker than most of my songs...here's the chorus:

Your love is a cold barrel pressed against the back of my neck;
Die for you, you know I will, but I will not live for you yet.

I write a lot of happy songs, or love songs, which isn't bad...but it's kinda fun letting the demons out for a change. I might end up singing it tomorrow night...maybe...possibly, we'll see.

On that same note, the whole singer-songwriter thing...I've really been working on my vocal style. I've been listening to different kinds of soulful music lately...ranging from traditional soul (Al Green, James Brown), to modern soul (John Legend, Amy Winehouse), to rock music with a lot of soul (Elliott Smith, Ben Folds)...and I've realized that there are different ways to be soulful...but there's also just one way at the same time: singing like because you feel it.

I was going over Honestly (The Glasses and T-Shirt Song) yesterday afternoon, as well as I Need You, two songs that differ as far as style, but I remembered exactly why I wrote those songs, and I sang them because I meant the words...and it felt great.

It's hard, after you've written a song, and performed it over and over again, not to get into the habit of only going through the motions...sometimes you have to remind yourself exactly what you're singing and why you wrote those words...or what the song means to you.

Find the way, then pave it. Pave away my friends.
When you're digging your path, remember why you're digging it.
When you keep that in mind, the paving process will never be monotonous.

"Nothing in this world that's worth having comes easy." --Dr. Kelso

I pounded out two large buckets at the driving range in Orange...and here's what I've got to show for it:

- A massive farmer's tan.
- A better understanding of my swing...which still has a massive, massive fade off the long clubs.
- A much better understanding of my ideal swing rhythm.

It's nice to know that I can drill a golf ball about 200 yards...but it's not about distance, the game is about accuracy. If the game was about distance, John Daly and Tiger Woods would win every tournament...at least I've found a more consistent swing in the last week.

Eh...enough about the golf talk...the main thing is that I really feel that I've worked for what I've got. There was a time when a lot of things just came natural to me, when I could figure things out without really thinking about them or trying...then, I got to a point where things didn't come naturally anymore, and I had to learn how to try, and life got hard. Now, the things that I succeed at, I put an honest effort in, and I'm proud of the things that I succeed in, and the things that I work on, because it's not about success, it's really about the process.

I guess I just don't believe in an easy way out anymore, or shortcuts. There are no quick fixes, there are no magical solutions, if you really want something, you'll really work for it, take in all the other things and jump through all the hoops that you have to jump through in order to get it...you'll do all the tasks that seem so damn menial so that you can get there...that way, by the time that you reach your goal, you've also succeeded so much more, more than what you thought you could or would become.

This kind of thought, acceptance, and appreciation of "the process" is probably a manifestation from actually busting my ass last semester and this current semester and passing all of my classes for the first time in two years.

I no longer chose to think of myself as a failure or "not good enough," I chose to consider the possibility that I could succeed, that I might be up to whatever task I put myself up to, and it worked out for me.

All those little GE classes that didn't seem so neccessary made me a more well-rounded person, and I know more about the world because of them. All those pre-requisite classes prepared me for the next higher rung on the ladder.

The learning process never ends.

Think of it this way: You will never get to listen to every song ever written in the world, but you can still try to listen to as much music as you possibly can.

Maybe that's why I keep busy a lot of the time, because it's all a process to make myself a better, stronger person, and because I want to use all of the time that I have to make myself the best person that I can become.

Shit, maybe I'm a freak because of that. Whatever. It floats my boat.

I'm working hard to reach a personal ideal, and I know that there is no easy route...

...I've got a right to be a little bit snobbish. --Kanye West, "Better Than I've Ever Been"

Baby Britain feels the best floating over a sea of vodka.

I must admit, I've a problem with people who use bad addictions as a means of escape. Granted, as if I am one to really talk...

The recurring thing is the people in my life who use drugs or alcohol as an escape...on an almost daily basis.

Addiction is tough.

The way I see it...
First, you don't acknowledge that you're getting addicted to something.
Second, when it's brought up, you'll deny and deny and deny.
Thirdly, you'll come to terms with the fact that you're addicted.
Fourth, you'll come to a point where you wonder whether or not this addiction is worth all that you're losing.
Fifth, you'll either justify your addiction, or you'll do what you need to cut it off.

Yeah, I've got my own addictions to deal with, for sure. However, I'd hardly call myself an alcoholic. There are people addicted to weed, alcohol, sex...and I've got to wonder how you get to that point. Where you kinda don't want to be around that person because, although you yourself may not be addicted to said intoxicant, their addiction still manages to bring you down somehow.

I'm reading Chuck Palahniuk's Choke, and the idea of addictions has been on my mind. I can't help but apply the outlandish addictions illustrated in the book to myself and the people around me. The ridiculous treatments we give ourselves, the ridiculous ways we try to cope...how do you get to that point?

These past few months, well, my whole life, I've always kept in my mind the ideal woman. Admittedly, I can't see myself with a woman who has a really bad addiction...namely to pot or alcohol. I've been attracted to different women, however the caveat more often than not was the fact that a particular woman smoked weed...and it's a major turn-off...maybe because I've seen how that addiction can really control someone. Maybe it's because I can barely stand drunk people when I'm sober, and that I can barely stand high people when I'm sober...I just find it to be an un-due annoyance more than anything.

Still, I can't help but observe my own hypocrisies, when I fall off the wagon every now and again. When I get smashed. When my judgement isn't as keen as it ought to be...still, it bugs me to be honest.

I can say that behave in moderation. I don't engage in self-destructive behavior every day, or all that often. I do it in moderation...rarely if ever. I still let loose every now and then, but it's not a perpetual party either.

I've seen myself when I'm stupid. I don't like it. I feel like I've been raised to be better than I am when I lose my better judgement.

If I'm lucky, when I lose my judgement I'll be able to laugh about it and turn it into some passing anecdote.
When I'm not so lucky, when I lose my better judgement, it leaves a lasting impression on others, myself, and who knows what else.

I'd like to cut off my addictions. The right thing is rarely the easy thing.

Partying is cool.
Partying all the time, every day? It's not really a party then, is it?

I'd like to see my friends with bad addictions to get better.
I'd like to see myself get better.

I'd like to be satisfied...but when I become satisfied with everything, I don't think that I'll be doing something right. There's always something that can be improved. There's no such thing as finished work.

-----

And I know it's not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there's glamour and candleabra when you're drinking by candlelight.

I learned a few lessons within the past few days and nights.

1. Saying "I want to be on you" sounds a lot like "I want to pee on you."
2. Given the aforementioned, it is never a good idea to whisper the phrase into a girl's ear.
3. The past is past, and you'll never be able to re-live it.
4. Making yourself available to be a doormat is not a good idea either.

Between the weird dreams and the "little d" depressive states, I've taken a few things from it all.

I habitually check my ex's MySpace, despite the fact that it's private. Everyone does it. My profile is private too. I can't help but wonder if she checks on mine too. Maybe. Maybe not. What does it really matter though?

As of reading the perks of being a wallflower, I've become enamored with the quote "I will die for you, but I will not live for you." I'd like to know where it's from originally, but the quote still has a lot of impact on me. It's fairly applicable to me right now pertaining to a handful of my relationships with people.

I've been listening to a lot of Elliott Smith lately, namely the acoustic version of Half Right, Baby Britain, and Waltz #2 (XO). The line I'm never gonna know you now, but I'm gonna love you anyhow sticks out particularly. Also, the line I'm here to day and expected to stay on and on and on, but I'm tired speaks to me loudly.

I guess it's okay to miss Anne, but it's not okay to expect another relationship like that, or hope that the same relationship will come around, because 5 years time will change people.

I guess it's okay to love someone and hope that that person will be in love with you somehow, and it's okay that they don't fall in love you, because you still love eachother, and that's invaluable. That goes for a lot of relationships in different ways. It goes back to the idea of dying for someone, but not living for them. You've gotta let go a little to let grow.

Lesson #5: The next time that I'm actually interested in a girl, maybe I should actually ask her out too.

I found out that the guy who beat me to the last punch didn't actually ask the girl out. He got someone else to ask her out for him. It's not exactly so much a Cyrano de Bergerac move moreso than it is an "awkward kid with a junior high mentality" sort of move. Totally lame, but still beat me to the punch and ruined my chances. I just can't give myself the opportunity to get punk'd again. I can't really be too sad about it, because what kind of girl would agree to a date not asked by the guy himself? What does that say about her? I don't really know, and I don't have a lot of room to criticize since I never really made the move. Go figure.

It's a hard lesson. Pick up. Move on.

All the blogs written everywhere else (MySpace, Facebook), all tell me this simple fact: I'm just looking for stability.

Not just with relationships with other people, but mainly in my relationship with myself.

I'm busy pining over this dream that no longer exists, trying to find something like the only stable relationship I had (and subsequently threw away). It's old, it's a stale memory that I can't have back, so why am I chasing it?

Still, there was a time when things were more stable, and I didn't complicate everything, and when I was less complicated.

If things just became stable for me, I think I could be happy, but I really don't know for sure...but stability would be a step.

With but a year to go until I'm wearing a gown and funny hat, I can't help but wonder where I'm going to end up in the distant future.

I've finally found something to believe in, other than music. I believe in the truth. Cliche, but, it suits me considering that I'm an aspiring Journalist, a practitioner of the truth...or as accurate as you can report it.

Still...despite my issues with the modern journalism industry, my aspirations to be the next Edward Murrow, Walter Cronkite, with a little Jon Stewart mixed in...aside from that all, I can't help but wonder where it's all going to take me.

I know my target. I'd really like to work for NBC News. Keith Olbermann, Brian Williams, and Chris Matthews all inspire me. I'd love to be a correspondant, or even a news anchor.

I see friends of mine graduating.

I'm 23.
A lot of these graduates are younger than me.

I could feel bad or weird about it all, but, it just took me awhile to find my way, to find a calling.

Hopefully, I'll be graduating at 24.

I've always seen myself living in Southern California...but maybe my life will take me elsewhere. I might end up in Bristol working for ESPN (which would also be awesome), or in New York working at 1313 Rockefeller Plaza, or stationed in some undisclosed location doing correspondance overseas.

The fact is, as nervous as it makes me, it's also pretty exciting.

A lot of the time I bitch and complain about being surrounded by liars and phonies, and every now and then, I see the three fingers that point back at me.

Perhaps it's my turn to be honest, to let people know what I think that they're doing that's putting them in the wrong. I'll be tactful, but I'll be honest at the same time. I don't think I've been as good a friend as I can be if I'm holding back my feelings, where I feel that someone has been fake, or extremely arrogant, or incredibly naive...

Perhaps it's my turn to be honest.

As a student of the media industry, I've been watching the news more often and diving deep into the stories that interest me. After the Virginia Tech massacre on April 16th, I have been moved by this story. As geographically disconnected I may be from the event, I've still felt some sort of personal community as a result of the event, and an emotional connection from the images and words that have come from this event.

I've watch the news non-stop, downloaded innumerable podcasts of news reports that have almost exclusively covered the tragedy, because I am a student of the media, because I am an Asian-American, and because I am a college student.

I've checked in on Virginia Tech's student newspaper, and every issue that I've seen has evoked deep sympathy. Today was especially moving.

The graphic headline featured this:
"If we don't meet again, your final assignment from me is perhaps the most important lesson you will learn in life. Go to your mother, father, brothers and sisters and tell them all with all your heart how much you love them. And tell them that you know how much they love you too. Go out of your way to make good memories...At some point these memories may be all you have left. May God bless you all, Bryan"

This was an e-mail sent by Bryan Cloyd, a professor at Virginia Tech, to his students. His daughter Austin, who was a freshman at VT, died on Monday.

This is just one example of how this event has tugged at my heart-strings like it has to many other Americans. Seeing the clips of people re-telling their experience during the tragic event, or seeing how they struggle to retrieve those memories, or seeing how the families and friends of those affected in the tragedy cope with their losses all have been so emotionally compelling.

The most beautiful thing that I've seen this past week was the candlelight vigil at Virginia Tech, seeing the VT community united and standing strong in the face of tragedy.

I've also seen the clips of Cho Seung-Hui's multimedia manifesto, but I choose not to focus on those for this entry, rather I focus on the victims and the community of Blacksberg, because they have been an inspiration to me this week.

I've been coming to accept the changes in my life...
the change of focus...
the change of relationships and alliances...
the change of pace...

It all really hit me last night. It was nothing more than a small run-in, a small moment, a small text message...it all hit me big. I'm not the same anymore, and I've been the catalyst for this change because I wanted this.

I've been asking more of myself these days, and have been asking more for myself as well. I've been more productive, surrounded myself with people that are more productive with myself, and have been doing more things to make myself a stronger person that will get myself where I want and need to be today, tomorrow, and the several many days to come.

Needless to say, I've been tipping the scales somewhat, and where I've decided to place the weight of importance, I've also compromised other things, other relationships, other things that I no longer focus on.

It weird to see karma rear its head toward me and stare me in the face...like when you'd passed up a prime opportunity to see a friend who doesn't live near you, and then you see that the lack of favor has been returned. Or when you're able to quantify all the times you've hid behind your busy life, and the curtain has been pulled out to expose that you've been hiding from a good friend of several years.

The thing is, I can't feel completely bad about it because ultimately, for me, all this change has been about me, and I've felt a need to be more selfish these days. It's all going to bite me in the ass, or knock me down every now and then, but I know that I'm striving for something more in my life, and that I'm on track for getting there.

I've come to accept the fact that I made a choice to be a selfish individual, despite the fact that I'd been accused in high school of being a too-selfish individual...however, considering the source (a best friend who slept with my, then, last ex-girlfriend and bragged about it everyday), maybe the accusation shouldn't hold as much weight.

All I know is that I'm doing the best that I can.
I am busy everyday. My life, right now, is my work.
My night life is my escape, my wind-down, my solace.

I haven't had a lot of positive influences throughout my life. I've had the tendacy to surround myself with negative people who would ultimately bring me down, and I've had the same tendacy to push away the better influences in my life. I think I've been able to turn that all around.

Still, it's a little shocking to see the consequences of positive change.

There's a balance to it all. The positive gain is earned with the negative consequences of another. My friendships are changing...but I'm changing them. My friendships aren't changing me, but they're helping me grow.

I've been more able to face the truth lately than I have been in the past.

Perhaps the consequential alienation has, and will, hurt people...but it's an opportunity for us to grow and find out things for ourselves, find out where we really stand in the world, and what we want from the world. Perhaps.

Man, my life has been busy. It's a non-stop bullet-train ride--a blur, if you will.

I've been making new friends, and distancing myself from old ones because of geography and time.

Eh, I browse through photo-albums via facebook...and I lead myself to wonder: are we still friends?

I ask this question in my head when I browse profiles.

I really don't know anymore.

I've changed. My life has changed.